Delta 6 (The Pack)

Chapter 43

Warnings: ?Trigger? Warning (brief mention of suicide)

~Vikk's P.O.V.~

      The air carries an intoxicating atmosphere of loss, and I sigh heavily and with pain as I send most of the mobs in their way to our revolution hideaways. Two deaths in one day... can we really do this? I question inwardly, gently prying the white gem out of Preston's stone cold lifeless hand. My eyes drift from the socket where it was, now seemingly unnaturally empty, to his face, frozen in an endless expression of terror and grief. The sight is unbearable and I look away, cradling the gem in my arms like a newborn child, before wrapping it up in some wool and tucking it safely away in my inventory. I'm not sure how long it will take Preston to respawn. It usually depends on how mortally wounded they were when they died. For example someone dying of hunger would respawn much faster than someone blown to pieces by a creeper. But a lava creature being turned to stone? I haven't the faintest idea of how long that will take.

       I growl out an order to a remaining four endermen. The slender yet strong mobs stalk silently over to my friends, each of them picking up one of their unconscious forms bridal style into their gangly arms. Even though the weather has calmed I still duck my head to the night, in some sort of weird effort to erase the gruesome memories from my mind that I have unwillingly attached to this biome. A curtain of bubbles and a searing pressure in my lungs as suddenly I'm back on land, dropping to the ground in a damp bloody heap. Clawing my way to the dirt hut only to find the mauled body of Silver, her blood still dripping from the gaping hole in her side. Staggering through an endless void of bitter cold darkness, calling out to a phantom to lead me to wherever Preston may be. Coming face to face with a cocky evoker, the limp figure of Preston lying just to the side, his skin only a fraction of its former glow. Everything after that is a hazy blur, though just seeing the aftermath, I'm not sure I even want to know what happened.

      As the endermen stride silently behind me, the only noise being the sound of snow crunching under our feet, I glance guiltily over my shoulder. Back towards the shoreline.

       "Preston would want Silver to have a proper funeral." I mumble, tears pricking my eyes.
      The enderman walking closest to me blinks and shifts Mitch into one arm, resting its other hand gently on my shoulder. "You seemed to have forged a strong connection with that domesticated wolf. However it belonged to the lava mob, and he is not here right now. These recent events attest to our dire situation-Herobrine is becoming frustrated. There is no time for luxuries such as honouring the fallen."

        Swallowing the lump in my throat I nod, accepting the harsh truth. The enderman falls back in step, it's presence leaving my mind, and once again I'm left all alone. The feeling is familiar but undesirable. You'd think after spending years of my life alone, I'd be used to it by now. Sure, I had friends. But at the end of the day I knew they were fake, and I knew that their judgmental attitude set them apart from me. All my life I never really experienced true friendship. Everyday it felt like an indifferent tolerance as I mingled about my community. I never knew my parents. I'm told my mom died giving birth to me. In grief, my dad killed himself, kicking off this endless cycle of loneliness. And now for the first time I've experienced something that finally feels real, and I don't plan to let anything come between that. I will fight to the death to keep my friends, no... my family safe.

       With no moon or stars to fill the sky, replaces by and ugly swirling black cloud, it's impossible to tell how long I've been walking. Exhaustion begins to fog my vision and cloud my thoughts, but I push on, determined to exit this winter wasteland before finding a place to settle for the night. Soon enough my prayers are answered and the snow suddenly gives way to the warm grit of red sand, colourful stripes of clay layering the hills in front of me. I sigh in relief, stumbling past dead bushes and soon the crumbling remains of what once was the gold capital of our nation. Stepping groggily over a trickling stream, I shamble into the gaping mouth of a cave, it's walls stripped of every thing but stone.

        "Set them there." I tell the endermen in a yawn, nodding towards a shallow indent in the ground.

         One by one, the endermen lay my friends down like fallen soldiers, positioning them shoulder to shoulder on their backs. I debate finding a way to construct a small campfire to provide even the tiniest bit of warmth, but the idea is quickly scrapped as I admit to myself I'm must too lazy to gather the materials. Some sensible part of myself also reasons the light would be visible for miles in this darkened land, and attention is that exact opposite of what we need right now. I nod my thanks to the enderman who nod in return before puffing away in clouds of purple sparkles. The endermen who had comforted me earlier pauses for a moment, empathy flashing in its glaring purple eyes as it watches me run my arms in an attempt to generate heat. Then, it teleports away.

       Checking over everyone to make sure they're all stable and no one is dying, a sudden hostile presence makes itself known in the area. The ghastly cry of a flock of phantoms echoes along the empty walls and, despite my tiredness, I instinctively transform into a vaguely natural looking mound of stone, bending stiffly over my defenceless companions. Staying as still as a statue, I watch anxiously as the patrol of white eyes phantoms swoops by, trailing bits of grey smoke behind their rotting wings. One circles past the opening of the cave, peering inside. But seeing nothings, it careens away, joining the others as their eerie wails gradually fade into the distance. I stay totally frozen for a few extra minutes, just to be sure they're gone, even after their unnatural presence leaves. Finally satisfied we're all safe for now, I practically collapse to the ground, huddling in close to whoever is beside me. My eyes snap shut before I can even see who.

         As my senses swiftly shut down, and darkness welcomes me into its lonely embrace, a friendlier, kind, presence pops into the cave.

       There's a quiet gargle of compassion as two thin black hands lay a crudely woven blanket of string over the five of us,  before stalking to the entrance of the cave to keep watch until morn.

~~~
Question of the chapter:

What's your favourite weather and why?

My answer: Thunderstorms because the rain calms me and the thunder reminds me of just how powerful yet beautiful nature can be :)

I also get strangely motivated and happy when it's storming