Hermitcraft one-shots 2: Electric boogaloo

White Carnations

Today was supposed to be a good day, it was supposed to be a good day.

That was what Grian kept echoing in his head as he looked out of his hiding spot, it was a small hole hidden away in some shop he couldn't remember the name of, and out into the world outside the small safe space. He heard angry growling and snapped remarks, and he pulled himself tighter into his hiding place, knowing the anger was directed at him.

He felt tears silently fall from his eyes and he didn't even try to stop them, knowing they weren't going to stop anytime soon. Today was supposed to be a good day goddamn it, but he fucked it all up.

Actually no, he didn't fuck shit up, shit fucked up itslef and he just happened to be the one nearest and therefore blamed for it. Because he was always the one to be blamed. Sure, some of those times it actually had been him, but not all of them.

Grian hoped he went away soon, he wanted to go back to his base. Back to the jungle and the familiarity and safety it brought, with its dense foliage and impossible navigation unless you knew it well. And he knew it well, almost like the back of his hand.

Nightfall hit before he started to quiet down, but Grian could still hear him walking so he stayed. And stayed. And stayed until he eventually grew so tired he fell asleep without wanting to, waking up the next morning to the sound of bustling streets.

The sounds of so many foots made him freeze up and pull himself deeper into the hole, he couldn't leave now! They'd ask too many questions he couldn't answer, he just couldn't! So pulling himself together against the back wall he waited more. Thank fuck he had food with him, but unfortunately that was all he head. His communicator was being fixed after having been destroyed and his phone was left home to charge whilst he did a quick check up on his shop.

He didn't fall asleep tonight, but there was someone here so he didn't dare leave. Because what if it was him? No he couldn't risk it. Staying in the little hole, feeling his muscles cramping up before losing all feeling be damned, he wasn't leaving.

He was barely keeping his eyes open by the time sunhigh hit the next day, but the bright light of the day was soon blocked out when a block was placed over his hidey-hole. He moved to push against it, to see what type of block it was, but found it hurt to even lift a finger. He tried the other hand, this one being more free and less trapped, but still the same results. Finally tried calling out to someone, anyone, but nothing. Grian could tell, even from just that one call, that no sound would escape his safe-space-turned-prison. He was trapped. He was trapped and he had no way of getting out.

Gritting his teeth Grian pushed a hand forward, whimpering as his arm sparked with pain, but reached out until his fingers grazed the block that blocked his way out. Concrete, of course it was concrete. He didn't push it anymore, knowing he might just pass out from pain if he even tried to twitch a single finger.

That's when he started to cry, and not the quiet one from before, but full on gross sobbing. As sobs racked his body it moved him, making pain flare up all over his arms in an instant, his wings too. Thankfully he was spared the pain from his legs, but the fact that everything else hurt made it so that little bit of peace meant nothing.

Screw it, Grian thought as he balled the fist near the concrete block into a fist, I'm stuck here, I might as well try to get out of here.

So with a mighty swing he slammed his fist against the concrete, and then he did it again, and again, and so on. Sure he was in worse pain then he'd ever been in before, and sure he was probably a swing or two from passing out, but at least he was trying. Because what else could he do?

And, just as expected, after one more swing he was out like a light, the pain having become too much for his body to handle.

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