Withering World [MCSM Fanfiction]

INFLAMMATION: Chapter 19

Jesse

Things are getting out of hand, deaths multiplying by the hour because of those who tested positive after we moved into QZ. Back then, all I could do was sit around and watch in torment as the number of gravestones increased.

I'm redeeming myself, I swear. Maybe searching the mineshafts and caves (both tight and lush) for spiders a hundred feet below ground isn't what I had in mind. But Ivor and the team need to make potions of harming to keep the Wither parasites they're testing alive. Additionally, the research squad in the watchtowers concluded that all other mobs, zombies, normal skeletons, spiders or creepers didn't conquer the survival of the fittest against the wither skeletons. There are no hostiles left up there. Apart from those infected monsters.

That's why I'm down here, not too far from Jack and his band of warriors, scavenging for loot from the undead that haven't gone extinct yet. Spider eyes are the ingredients on my target list.

My first victim crawls swiftly with its eight spindly legs and ruby eyes but stops only a few feet away from me. It's gonna jump. I have to time this just right. "Alright, let's see whatcha got, webhead."

The spider crouches, its abdomen raised high in the air like a flagpole, and I brace for its spring. As it attempts to hypnotize me with its redstone gaze, it hurls itself up and up before I bring my sword to its head, dislodging it in an instant.

On my first try, a spider eye drops. Though I rejoice and collect it, it makes me contemplate one thing. How many does the research team need? Just one or a lifetime supply?

I go with the safe (but not safe) option, following the cobwebs that filth the caves. Thicker and thicker the layers of silk get until I stumble upon a rare block I know I've seen before. It's one of those spawner things, encapsulated in a bed of cobwebs. Two cave spiders immediately emerge and my reflex pulls out spare wooden planks to hurriedly block it off, leaving a small hole at the bottom of the wall. I'll be automatically directing them, instant loot in my power.

All that's left is for me to block myself in and let the cycle repeat. Spawn, slaughter, collect. Nothing can stop me.

----

My right arm's asleep. And even though I have the glorious gift of being ambidextrous, I know it's far from intelligent to switch to my left hand with the energy I have remaining. That's no matter. Enough has surely been slain for me to have a stack and a half of the crucial ingredient.

One more cave spider sneaks past as I switch my sword for an axe and I plow it through its back. Then I demolish the wooden walls around me and take off before any more arachnids spawn.

The webs sparse out, telling me I'm headed in the right direction. My friends should all be waiting for me to return in the substitute Order Hall because of some repair Olivia wishes to make. For their sake, I speed up, refusing to dally with the Set Two warriors even if one of them halts me.

Run, run, run. It doesn't matter if I'm lugging my sore right arm.

Just as I toss the axe in my left hand, the unexpected jumps at me.

A wither skeleton, armed and poised pops out of a giant crack in the wall its breaths thrumming under its bones.

I clench my jaw, charging at the skeleton hoping I don't get hit. Our weapons clash and sparks fly as we stand off. It doesn't last long as I kick down its ankle and take advantage of its unbalanced swerve, quickly finishing it.

The surprises don't cease, and soon I fear that I'm hallucinating the tens of cracks I run past plus the skeletons pouring out of them. I'm not. "What the-"

There's a band of them chasing me now, a ragtag bunch after a helpless prey. How are there so many of them?

Once I turn the familiar corner, I stumble, having to turn back with more blocking the way in front of me. "Crud."

Surrounded.

My pulse thunders, wracking my shuddering body that lacks armor. Never have I faced such a dizzying number of monsters all once. The first sweat breaks on my face, down my cheek. Every second, I feel smaller and smaller.

I should shout. But as soon as I do, they'll attack me. With how closely they stand bundled together, it's suicide attempting to crawl under. There's neither any time to dig my way out if I had a pickaxe on me.

That leaves me with one option.

I'll have to do it the warrior way.

It doesn't matter that the skeletons don't have emotional intelligence. I shake off my apprehension and pull on a courageous face as they growl ferociously.

There's no time to think about the odds of survival as the struggle commences. I aim to keep my head up because if I miss a step, it's all over.

A squeal unleashes from my mouth as a blade's tip gets caught in one of my overall straps.

Don't get hit, don't get hit.

My fingers frantically unlatch the clip that attaches the shoulder strap to the body of denim. On its release, I cut down the skeleton that pounced at me, my clothing feeling hazardously looser than before.

One gets a hold of my hair, jerking it back in an attempt to snap my neck and I shove the blade of my axe into its head with a distraught cry. I can't give up. They may be stronger, but I'm certainly more smart.

After I recover, two pin me in place, grabbing either of my arms and constricting my wrists. Like a fly in a web, I'm caught. My weapon clatters to the stone floor and I scream.

"Get off, get off!"

Vulnerable and disarmed, I clench my jaw. The gritty scent of coal strengthens, causing my eyes to water.

Before I get to execute an escape, a new pain sears through my lower arm, my elbow spasming like crazy in reaction. I scream again.

Something's broken through my flesh.

It's agony.

Affliction clouds around me as I tense my body, my weak mind beginning to accept defeat. My legs wobble though I thrash and writhe with all I have left - it's still not enough for their tenacious grip to give out.

Now I'm in a great deal of trouble, a skeleton raising its sword high to bash down my skull. "No... no..."

It pauses as if to determine which part of my brain they want to destroy first.

No... no...

My life flashes before my eyes; the sword plunges down and the hit occurs, but not on me.

"Jesse!" A deep, shaky voice pierces the air, the geared figure standing in the smoke of the one he killed.

"Jack!"

He lowers himself to pick up my axe, sending me out of the skeleton ambush. "Get to the others! Go! Go!"

"But what about you?"

"I've got my armor, you've got nothing. Go!"

I don't even get to thank him. All I can do is venerate the adventurer by giving a grateful nod before chickening away, feet hammering the ground like a piston as I dash to Central.

More focused than ever, I keep my damaged, scorching arm close, glancing at it with aghast eyes. With the bottom of my palm, I wipe off the pooling blood that conceals the wound and notice the dotted convex shape underneath, bound to my skin.

The shape of teeth marks.

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