Oneshots and Story ideas, MCYT and Hermitcraft edition!

Canary in a Coal Mine (pt1)

I wrote this whole thing word for word in my head in the car this morning, and then forgot them before I could write it all down. Welp here's the blurred copy!!

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Jimmy was starting to feel dizzy.

Haha. That was bad.

He was trying not to panic, to avoid breathing deeply as much as he could, the same stuff he'd been doing for-....

For.

"For." He mumbled, unable to put a word to his thoughts. A smarter man might've tried to count seconds to keep track of time, but it probably wouldn't do much in terms of research even if he could get out of here.

Well, however long he'd been down here then, walking in circles, begging that the next exit he found wouldn't be blocked with rubble just like the last. (last 1? Or 2? or...)

He couldn't really smell it anymore, and much as that was a slight relief, being able to ignore the horrid scent that had grabbed onto him the second he-

When he-

He didn't really remember how he got here actually.

The while he was here, then. However that was, or had long it had been, he did remember the smell had been bad for a significant amount of time. It was bad- really bad- that the fact that he'd been here so long he could ignore the- well what he assumed was- poison. Dangerous fumes. Whatever you want to call it.

Being here so long that the smell wasn't an issue, and his head hurt, and the room was moving a little too much was really bad for him, wasn't it?

Haha...

Who cared how long he'd been here, because he probably didn't have much time left.

He shook his head, which hurt the headache more, but cleared his thoughts a little more.

Jimmy had to get out of here soon.

Not like he hadn't been trying of course, but with his memory and surroundings getting fuzzier the longer he was here, the more he needed to remind himself of his one current goal. So he wouldn't forget it. If he was around here, walking around mindlessly without any goal, that's when it would be hopeless.

"Have to- get out." He whispered to himself. Like the real sound of it would sink it in more. The scarf over his mouth and nose sorta muffled it, but it still echoed in the dark hallway. It was the only sounds other than his steps and his wings dragging in so long. There weren't even anymore bat peeps, if there had been any before.

There were nails on the ground that were being dragged along a little by his useless wings with dust and rocks too, sometimes clanking enough to drum a pattern in his mind.

Clank. Drag. Clank. Drag. Chip- clank. Drag...

A few of the nails had their flat side dug into the dirt, and now stuck up sharp, would be painful to step on without shoes. They cut into his wings occasionally, but he didn't have the medical supplies or time to do more than wince and move on.

He hated these dumb things.

"Fuck you..."

He wanted to swear the name of the god that cursed him with these. He really did, but other than a blurry face and a shadow of massive wings, he couldn't remember much more about them. They had a name, an evil one- he was sure of it. But nothing in his brain served up the information. He just couldn't remember anything...

Except for the eyes. That circled him, circled the god, watching with such an anticipation that almost resembled a smile of the mouth they didn't have.