WARBOUND- A Camp Minecraft Season Three Rewrite/AU

Void's Outcast

CW// Blood, injuries

OW.

The last thing he remembered was the feeling of falling. Green and black clouds whipping past him as he fell into the starry void.

Now his feeling was pain.

It echoed through his brain, his chest, everything.

Biffle slowly opened his eyes, his breathing ragged.

It felt like his chest was torn open.

His hands gripped the dirt in clumps, and he gritted his teeth as reality suddenly hit him.

I fell through the void.

He slowly pushed up on his hands, arms trembling with the effort.

He felt both like he had just woken from a long sleep and fallen off of a cliff.

His right leg was going numb, but along with the familiar prickling was sharp pain going through his ankle.

It was broken.

Biffle coughed, and more pain rippled up and through his chest.

He looked down, and suppressed a gasp at the worry of it hurting.

His shirt was torn open, and gashes went down his skin. They bled, staining his suit and the ground underneath.

Stinging wounds were all over his body, bleeding, but he knew this one was the worst.

It was right over his heart and lungs.

They were three long wounds, and they looked like the massive version of a cat scratch.

The Ender's damage.

Biffle choked back a sob as the memories washed over him in waves.

I must be back on earth. He realized.

Shakily, he stood.

Biffle staggered to the side, unable to put pressure on his broken foot.

I'm lucky that's all I got from the fall.

At least, that's all he could feel from the fall. His head was starting to spin.

It could just be from the shock.

Or the blood loss.

But it might be from a head injury.

Biffle shook off the idea, focusing on the most important task at hand.

Stumbling forwards, he headed through the trees.

I need to find my friends.

...

Biffle was slumped against a tree.

He had torn off his tie, pressing it against the heavily bleeding wounds.

His breathing was ragged and short, making his whole chest shake with the effort of staying upright.

Keep walking. He snarled at himself.

I can't. His own mind said back, weakly. I'm sorry. I can't.

Biffle closed his eyes, fighting the urge to cry out in agony. He tilted his head back, feeling the sun's faint rays hit his face.

Slowly, he started to walk.

His eyes were half open, his steps unbalanced as he limped through the woods.

Then he stepped in something.

Biffle looked down, confusion echoing in his hazy mind.

Blood was on the forest floor.

He looked up, eyes widening.

A man was lying on the grass and leaves, hunched over and breathing heavily.

He was clutching his face.

Biffle staggered forward, clutching the tie he held tightly.

"Hello?" He called cautiously, voice hoarse.

His head was spinning.

The man turned around, but before Biffle could see his face, he fell.

He hit the ground, but couldn't get up.

His vision blurred, pools of red and black wavering in the depths until, with a flash of pain, they took over his vision.