Taken || Book 2 of 2 in the Sam's Back series

1

A total of two months, three weeks and five days had passed since Mumbo had killed Sam. It had surprised Scar how easily he, Mumbo and Grian had fallen back into normal life. He was proud of Grian for going through so much and being relatively alright afterwards. After only a week he'd told them in more detail who Sam was, and they supported him as much as they could. Honestly, with the knowledge that Sam was dead and gone for good, Grian was happier than he'd ever been.

It was a lovely morning, and Scar smiled cheerily as he searched through his ever growing chest monster for his netherite sword. He'd discarded it half way through his most recent super-fast-build-mode project to make room for more materials, but needed it back. He had a meeting with Bdubs concerning mayor-related things, and while he probably wouldn't need it, it was good habit to always carry a weapon in case of mobs.

He wasn't even sure if it was in any of the many chests and shulker boxes that had built up over the last year or so, and it was probably more realistically in his ender chest. When he realised that, he closed the current double chest full of leaves, blue concrete powder, melons, some dirt, sticks and other clutter and looked around for the black chest. Where had he put it?

Realising it was in his inventory, he pulled it out and set it on the ground. Just as he opened it, someone tapped his shoulder.

"Oh, Bdubs, just a minute." He said, leaning into the dark magical box. "I thought we were meeting at town hall?" Nope, the sword wasn't there. Oh well, back to the chest monster.

It was a bit odd that Bdubs hadn't replied.

He turned to check the other hermit was okay and-

.... oh.

"What?! How did you-" he started backing away but bumped into his ender chest, and before he could finish the sentence Sam grinned and hit him over the head with a rock. He fell to the ground.

***

As Scar woke in a cold, dark room, he put his hand to his head and winced. There was a small amount of what felt like dried blood in his hair, and it felt painful to the touch.

He looked around. It was dark, near pitch black, and the walls were grey. Stone, he realised. The floor was wood, although it was damp, and there was a metal door. Not the usual type of iron door they made on the server though; it had no window and looked about three times as thick. He knew it was locked without needing to test it.

Needless to say, he had mining fatigue and his inventory was gone.

He thought back to what happened, the memory was a little blurry, but he remembered Sam. He swallowed back a sob as he pulled himself to the corner of the room, leaning back against the cold wall.

He didn't know a lot about Sam, but what he did know gave him all the reason in the world to be absolutely terrified. Maybe he'd be tortured like Grian was, maybe he'd be left to starve, maybe he'd be put in a death loop, or maybe he'd die permanently. His jaw felt heavy, like it always did when he was trying not to cry.

He stared at the door, waiting for it to open, for Sam to come in. For death to enter.

He just wanted to leave, was this really happening? It felt real, scarily real. Why was Sam here, how had he survived? Would he survive? He whimpered helplessly as he was forced to wait, making up all the possibilities of what could happen in his mind.

***

Mumbo sighed contentedly as he placed the last piece of redstone dust in it's correct position. It was quite a simple piston door, but it was one of the finishing touches of a larger project that was finally coming to an end.

It was getting quite late, so he picked up all the things he'd left lying around and made his way back to his base.

After dropping off everything in his storage system, he went to bed. It was a simple routine that was repeated most nights.

Just as he was drifting off a hand came out of nowhere and covered his mouth. He kicked about, trying to escape the cold touch, but it was strong and firm. It was dark, and the only thing he could make out about the mystery attacker before a needle slipped effortlessly into his neck was the outline of bunny ears on top of their head.

Sam.

***

Scar looked up suddenly as the metal door swung open with a loud clanging sound as it slammed mercilessly against the wall next to it. Sam didn't seem to even look at him as he dropped a body onto the ground and closed the door again. He heard three loud clicks of three locks.

Once the footsteps faded away, he crawled over to the body. It was Mumbo.

He pulled him to sit him up against the wall and checked for breathing. When he felt the warm breath, he sighed with short-live relief.

***

Mumbo shuffled a bit as he woke up with his back against cold stone. He glanced around and jumped at the outline of a person a few inches shorter than him.

"Don't worry, it's just me." A voice he recognised to be Scar's said. Mumbo nodded vaguely before taking in his surroundings.

"Is Sam back?" He asked, his throat a little sore.

"Yes." Scar said, not being able to get any more words past his mouth. His throat was also sore; he hadn't had a drink in at least half a day if he had an accurate estimation of time.

"How? I thought... I- I thought I killed him." Mumbo said, not liking the memory.

"I don't know." Scar said quietly. "He hasn't come in here since bringing you." Mumbo nodded.

They sat in silence. Sam could come in at any moment and do anything to them. There were almost no limits. Mumbo sat still, staring into the darkness while Scar fiddled with his sleeve anxiously.