Grian-based one-shots

Bird in a cage (Side-chapter)

This chapter isn't about Grian, this is a side chapter that I did a few days ago from a prompt.

Prompt: Phil is half bird so he can't see glass, and as a prank, someone puts him in a glass maze. (this was an idea from the user  @fishy_girl from a headconnon book)

TW: insanity, mild swearing, blood, death, self harm (sort of?)

________________________________________________________________________________

It started off as a prank. A small, little, harmless prank. At first, it seemed to be an amazing idea to put Philza Minecraft into a glass maze. But oh boi, things are about to go downhill.

Phil woke up in an open-wide field, surrounded by nothing but grass blades that tickled his hands slightly and trees in the distance. The sky above was a beautiful navy-blue with little-to-no clouds in the sky. 

"What the..." Phil mumbled to himself as he got up, noticing that he had no items on him except for...a note? He'll have to read it later, right now, he has to get out of here. He he stretched out his wings only for them to hit the surface of an invisible wall. He jumped up, only to bonk his head on the same invisible wall. "FUCK" Phil rubbed the top on his head. He decided to walk forward, only to immediately bumped into the same. Exact. Wall.

'I guess now is the time to read the note' Phil took out the piece of paper, "welcome to the glass maze..."

Oh no. Oh, god, please no. Not a glass maze.

Phil sighed in frustration (someone is going to be beaten up with a belt once he finds his way out of here).

This is going to be a long day for the crow master.

Naturally, as a responsible adult, Phil decided to take the situation more calmly. He walked in every direction he could think of, only to be hitting walls at every possible turn.

The first 2 hours, Phil was confident he could beat the system. The 3rd and fourth hour, well, not so confident, but he still kept fighting. The fifth hour went pretty much the same; Phil's face started to become a little red from how much he started to bump into things. He hated every second of this and was wondering if he could just brake the glass with his fists.

The sixth hour went by, then the seventh, then the eighth... The sun to start set down and Phil still didn't know where he was. His fists where bleeding a lot from all the broken glass but at least now he knows where he has been and where he wasn't yet. Nausea and claustrophobia stated to wash over Phil, growing stronger every second he sept trying to find the exit (the fact the he can't even see the glass is making everything way worse).

'Stupid' 'how could someone be so stupid?' 'Child. Can't even go though a glass maze' 'even Tommy can pass this and you can't! Pathetic'

By the ending of the first day, Phil had given up. His fists were bleeding and had glass shards in them, the voice inside his head wasn't helping him in the slightest and the hope of finding a way out of here has left his body a long time ago. Phil let tears flow down his cheeks as an unwanted cry for help escaped his throat. He was crying for god knows how long before the feeling of hunger really kicked in.

He was hungry, scared, tired and stuck in this stupid maze! Just great! It's all he ever wanted!

Curled up in a ball, his wings spreading around him, Phil finally finds himself falling into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning came pretty much the same; Phil got up, immediately bonked his head on glass somehow, started to look for an exit, failed and now has even more blooded fists.

And the cycle begins again...

He would wake up, search, fail, sleep.

'Useless' 'can't even get out of this stupid maze' 'if you are so hungry then drink your own blood, or are you a pussy?'

And Phil did so...whenever he got thirsty, he'd get out a a glass shard and drink his blood. Sometimes, when hunger really got to him, he would cut off a bit of his flesh and eat it. Granted, it wasn't the best in taste but it wasn't horrible either.

A few more days go by...

Phil is covered in blood. "Oh Gareth! Nice to finally see you again!" Phil talked into nothingness, a smile spreading on his face. He started to talk to this so called 'Gareth'. He would talk to hours upon hours upon hours to him non-sop. Stopping only to drink some blood or to sit down. Now, random laughter would be heard during the night. Random chatter could be heard. Tears and loud sobs for help would escape sometimes.

But no one ever comes... no one ever helped him.

One week. One long week goes by...

Phil is curled up in a corner, swaying for one side to another. A smile spreading across his face, but body too weak to move. "They're all lying. Nothing is true. Nothing exist. Just walls. Nothing else..." blood was slowly dripping from his mouth, "the only true thing is walls and only walls. They are true. They never lie. Everything else they say is a lie." at this point...he doesn't even remember where he was originally, all he knew was that there were just walls around him. No hope in getting out, no hope in making it out alive.

'We were right the whole time! You see! No one cares about you, if they did, they would've already gotten you out. You're useless. You're a waste of space. You're existence is meaningless'

And then another week goes by...

Phil was clutching to the last this he had, the glass shard which he would cut himself with (at this point just for fun, just to feel something, just to know if he passed away yet or not). No one is going to help him. His vision became blurrier by the second...he would randomly black out, in hopes that it would be death finally coming at his doorstep.

He wished for this joke to end soon. He wished for this joke of a life would soon be over. He didn't want to be here. He never wanted to be here. He just wanted to get out.

He just wanted to see Techno, Wilbur and Tommy again...

Phil smiled to himself, "those names sound familiar..."

But after all, he was just a bird in a cage, waiting to face his destiny. Phil's vision slowly darkened are the edges, inching closer and closer to a full black out. Closer and closer he neared death, almost craving it himself at this point. The ringing in his ear became more overweeningly louder and louder as the voices chanted over and over again. The wounds upon his hands were burning, as though they re-opened once again. Thoughts were rushing past his head; entering and leaving quicker than Eminem ability to rap.

Then silence. The long awaited silence. Nothing was left inside the void of his own hell-hole.

<Ph1LzA passed away>

~elsewhere~

"YOU SAID THIS IS JUST GOING TO BE A SMALL, HARMLESS LITTLE PRANK!" Tears started to flow down the woman's cheeks...

drip...drip...drip

________________________________________________________________________________

Hope u liked it:)