Herobrine's Revenge (The Wielder Chronicles Book Two)

--- A MINERAFT CHRISTMAS CAROL ---

Hello to all my wonderful readers!

And no, this chapter isn't just a simple, "Merry Christmas And A Happy New Year" - I've also written a chapter (more like short story) with Christmas Themes! It's from Herobrine's "POV" (its in third person) and to be honest, adds a lot to the storyline.

PLEASE READ!! (also it took a while)

So please, sit back and relax, watch the snow/sunshine outside your windows, and enjoy:

Herobrine & The Three Ghosts of Christmas

(A five-part mini-story by outkookdrive)

And have a very Merry Christmas!

- Jazz

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HEROBRINE & THE THREE GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS

PART I: SIN

The thought of Christmas disgusted him. The cookies, and the decorations, the gift-giving and all the family time. To Herobrine, Christmas was simply a yearly excuse to be showered with presents and eat like a pig. It held no special meaning.

He could barely remember Christmases he used to have, way back, when his family was still alive. He could faintly recall a lot of joyful screaming from his sister, and the sounds of bells and carols. He had long since banished these old memories from his mind, but every year in December, they came rushing back, cold and raw and cruel. That was another reason why he hated this particular holiday.

Today, as always, he was sitting by himself, on the throne of his Nether Palace, with his feet up and head back. This was how he would usually spend his days now; in silence, only occasionally visiting the Overworld to inspect on a few certain individuals.

He knew that he was due to go up there again, but he couldn't bare the thought of the streets filled with bright, colourful lights or the anxious footsteps of late-night shoppers. But he did so anyway; this was a routine he didn't plan to break because of a petty holiday.

The Overworld of Minecraftia, as always, seemed dreadfully too perky for Herobrine, who preferred darkly lit corridors and the feeling of loneliness - or as he called it - peace. Hundreds of humans, their money level lowering by the hour and their minds rethinking over any ideas for gifts for their loved ones, walked through the busy Bloquear streets. The shops were selling anything from hay bales to fireworks, with and they all had civilians rushing through them as fast as light. He despised this type of atmosphere.

His brain subconsciously knew where to find the man he was looking for, and he went straight to an old, worn down building that everyone was rushing past. No one could see him, and he was used stares aimed right where he is, but not at him. Herobrine couldn't be seen unless he wanted to be seen, which was very rarely, especially in this kind of environment. He opened the rickety door, making his movements swift and composed.

The man behind the counter had long, white hair that was in shambles and a beard which looked like it had never been trimmed it's entire existence. Not that the man seemed to mind.

"Greetings, old friend." The elderly man said, smiling so his rotten yellow teeth were visible. "I suspect you would like an update on my progress?"

Herobrine nodded quickly, once. "Indeed."

The man got up from his seat from behind the spruce counter. The shop itself was a dark wood, which would leave normal humans feeling afraid and uncomfortable, but was not the case for Herobrine. He followed the man to a back door, which lead to a room that was so dark, no mortal would be able to see through. But Herobrine was not mortal.