Hermitcraft Ship Oneshots

Bunny Boy - Part 1

Mumbo was unaware of the new world that he was stuck in. It didn't feel real, if that made sense. He could smell the scent of flowers that was carried on the wind, he was able to feel the cool drops of rain against his face. Yet this place...it felt rather odd.

It was a neighborhood of sorts, right next to a large school building. Both the streets and the homes were abandoned, with no sign of another living person. Color was very dull and lackluster, as if someone had drained any joy and light from this realm. The redstoner thought he had seen students walking past the windows of the school, though when he ran to meet them, no one was there.

The first few days he had spent wandering, in search of some kind of explanation as to what was going on. It seemed as though time was frozen, as the sun was always stuck in the exact same position with each passing moment. He had tried to keep track of time, marking the hours, until the Brit realized that he had no way to tell when an hour had actually passed.

He had no memory of arriving here. One moment he was on hermitcraft, the next he was in some kind of lifeless world. Mumbo knew that the others would notice his absence, so it wouldn't be long until the hermits find him. So he took the opportunity to claim one of the houses in the neighborhood, which he thoroughly checked before determining that it was completely empty. After all, the mustached hermit needed a place to rest after what seemed to be a couple days of no contact from the others.

So, he waited there. It was a bed positioned right by the window that looked right out on the street, exactly where he had appeared. He watched from the bed for a while, Mumbo's eyes glued to the window, waiting for something. But after a while, his eyelids grew a little too heavy, and the bed felt a little too comfortable. He didn't remember falling asleep, so at some point the redstoner must have slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The days went like that for a while. Mumbo would explore the school or the neighborhood for most of the day, then he would head back to the house he claimed to wait for someone to come and rescue him. Every morning when he would wake up, the Brit would take a pen and make a tally on the wall to signify another 'day' that had passed. But truthfully, he could have been out for only a few hours, or maybe even a few days! Who knows how long he had wandered for, or how long he had slept for!

But Mumbo tried not to let it bother him. Maybe time was slower back in the real world. Maybe only a day had passed since he went missing. Maybe the others were currently working on a way to bring him back. Maybe it had only been a couple of hours! In reality, weeks had gone by already. As more time passed, the hermit would sink deeper into a pit of denial and anxiety. He was certain that the others would find him soon. They wouldn't just leave him here, wherever 'here' was.

He didn't need to eat or drink here, which was rather odd. Maybe he was in some kind of hell, someplace that he would never be able to escape from. Maybe he had died, or he had been banned? Those were just a couple of conspiracies Mumbo had come up with, since he had nothing but an endless amount of time to think. His mind obviously wandered, thinking about what had brought him here or what he had done to get trapped here.

By the time his wall had become covered in tally marks, the ink from his marker had run out. Mumbo had to resort to carving a line as each day passed, just to have some sense of time. He had to remain sane and calm, just until he was rescued. The redstoner continued to hold onto the last sliver of hope that he had, though he knew that it would quickly fade.

It was a morning, or maybe a night, just like any other. Mumbo dragged his hand across the wall, feeling the cracks where his knife had carved into the wall. He lifted the small dagger, scraping yet another mark into the wall before letting the blade slip from his hands. It tumbled to the floor, as the Brit felt his eyes begin to water. Three months had passed. Three whole months. Hell, it could have been so much longer!