Withering World [MCSM Fanfiction]

INFLAMMATION: Chapter 17

Petra

As soon as we all let go of the ladder for the fourth time today, I sprint ahead, forming the point of the arrowhead shape.

A herd of them can be seen in the distance, more spawning by a cluster of roses. I put my trust in the two disembodied archers behind me. "Hey, boneheads!" I yell, making the skeletons turn squiffily in my direction. "Guess who's back for more."

Lukas rolls his eyes at me, his enthusiasm rapidly sifting out with each session. My friends get into position, placing in their Eagle lenses and skillfully focusing their aim.

With my remarks being a skeleton magnet, all in sight storm towards me, their numbers fortunately yet unfortunately too low to count as an army. Without delay, I put my body and sword to work, executing a variety of swift uppercut and horizontal slices to put an end to the coal-touched monsters.

They outnumber me, but my wits refuse to have my entity surrounded.

More overexertion jams into my shoulders as I smash the skull of one with Miss Butter's hilt. This time, my power and stamina don't measure up to the previous three times we've done this today. While my body's energy is emptying, my mind's filling up.

Eight point five percent chance. That's the probability of the precious skull dropping with my enchantment. I must've slain about a hundred already, yet my inventory only consists of countless bones, coal, and a few swords. Where's the eight point five percent portion of luck when I need it?

I'm aware my mind is relinquishing itself to the memories of back when I daily visited the nether years ago. It took me ages to get to that fortress, let alone the skull Ivor scammed me with before he unleashed the dumb Witherstorm. Now to think, I technically started it.

And what about this Wither apocalypse? The overpopulation in Beacontown caused the beacon to wither and the last person to step foot through Beacontown's gates before the fallout incident was-

Oh my gosh. This is my fault. Again.

Caught between two skeletons, I slip my way out, only realizing they've trapped me in the middle as more come marching towards me; I'm no longer the snare but the bait instead.

There's less and less of the sky in my vision, every second.

"Jesse!"

The tallest one throws a punch at my helmet, one I cannot dodge because of my imprisonment. I scream in hurt as its jagged nail scrapes against the right side of my forehead, barely missing my eye. Though there's no room for me able to hold the injured area, I know it's bleeding. I feel it dripping.

Infection is made easier with an open wound.

Very few know the task, trying to bite me with their razor fangs I never took notice of. They invade my personal bubble of space and end up grazing all parts of my armor.

I shout again, this time screaming for Lukas and as I do, the swarm encompassing me starts to thin. The cage of mobs are breaking and I gather enough strength to plunge my sword into the chest of the one that attacked me, my arms throbbing.

They return, the dismal clouds and sky as I come back to my senses, shoving my weapon into the faces of the rest of the creatures, killing them and their menacingly chomping jaws. Thank goodness for the archers.

"Petra, run back!" Jesse says, changing it up. "Invert the formation. We're gonna trap them in!"

Genius.

Obediently, I fall back, soaring on adrenaline to carry me towards the treehouse, where Jesse and Lukas are now in front of me.

I'm suddenly blinded in my right eye. Chances are, the blood on my forehead has found its way into it, irritating my line of sight, blurring everything around me.