Writing Championships #3

Orange Ornaments

Fire lakes and red dirt. As long as he could remember, this had been the scenery surrounding him in his Nether home. He was used to it, it was fine.

Anyways, the demon knew that he would have to deal with it, even when the blistering heat woke him up at night and the shrieking Ghasts wouldn't let him fall back asleep. He knew that there was nothing he could do about it.

It was one of those nights. He woke and couldn't relax, even when his internal clock told him it was morning. Grumbling, he got up and stretched the tiredness from his muscles, heading out of his house to practice sparring. It was a routine. Wake up, spar, eat something (which usually ends up being mushroom soup, gross), take a walk or go for a run, sleep, repeat

Today, Hels decided to take a different route on his walk.

The dark red of the nether was calm and serene, the soft flames flickering at his face. Hels stumbled across a lava lake, balancing across the blocks that separated him from the other side. He jumped down, treading on familiar ground.

Huh. He had never seen this place before.

Hels walked against soul sand, placing blocks beneath him to speed up. He climbed atop the red blocks that held him from a small clearing that felt so familiar, like a memory that he had never recalled until now. Yet he didn't remember anything about this place.

Before him was a strange structure. He recognized the obsidian, around fourteen of the black blocks formed to make some kind of loop. In the middle was a strange purple haze, like some kind of hypnosis.

Was this some kind of portal?

For around a few hours he walked away to prepare, grabbing a sword or two and mining more blocks, until he felt like he was ready to enter the portal.

Whatever it was, he hoped it wasn't dangerous.

Hels took a few steps.

The portal was really quite pretty.

Two more steps.

Nothing bad could come out of something so pretty, right?

He stepped into the portal.

And it whisked him away.

---

He fell on his face, shaking visibly. Why was it so cold-

...and what was this... clear, uncomfortable liquid coming from the space above him?

It was just-

-appearing.

Falling down onto his head, making him cold.

He'd never been cold before. It had always been so comfortable in the Nether, the fire warming his being. He'd been at home there, snuggling with his pet strider. Watching the ghasts float by, not even glancing at him.

Where was he?

He glanced around him, seeing buildings stretching up to the sky, the gloom and haze of his home suddenly vanished.

He was happy being alone with the piglins and hoglins. Warm and safe.

Not here. He saw the nearest building; a dark-colored floating thing, white and clear blocks allowing him to see a man inside, his red sweater standing out from a pile of shulkers.

While it was dry inside, he didn't want to talk to anyone.

Not that the Universe cared what he wanted. The man had seen him, waving through the opaque wall. Well frick.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted his arm, waving back, a forced smile on his face. He walked, back straight, to the door and entered.

"Hello Wels! What brings you by-" The man's eyes widened in shock, seeing that dark, iron armor, the flaming feather stuck in his helmet. He drew his sword, pointing it at Hels, forcing him back out into the rain. "You monster, what have you done with Wels?!" The enchantments on the weapon shone brightly in his face.

Red, hot tears started streaming down his face.

"I-I-I just w-wanna go ho-home-"

"Get out!"

One more word from breaking down, Helsknight ran out of the barge, pulling off his helmet and dropping it behind him, leaving it for whoever stumbled across it.

Rain blared in his head, making the screams of outrage louder and louder. Hels covered his ears, trying to make them stop, but they kept on going like high-pitched whistles.

He thought that the whines of the ghasts were the most terrifying thing, but this was so much worse, it was so much worse.

He stumbled, boots weighing him down, back to the cursed swirling purple that had started this whole thing.

Rain sizzled onto his skin, pain jolting through his body with every drop. His throat hurt as he tried to scream, finally collapsing onto the rough obsidian, waves washing over his body as it whisked him away, away from the horrible screams of people that he didn't know, of people that called him a freak.

He was pushed out onto the soft, red mycelium, fire warming his body again. But he still felt so cold, so cold, as rain slowly evaporated from his skin, disappearing into the fiery air.

Panicked, quick and shallow breaths escaped from his mouths as he dragged himself to a familiar viney tree, trying to take in what had happened, trying to believe what had happened.

They had screamed at him.

They had hated him.

They didn't even know him.

And they hated him.

What was wrong with him?

What's wrong with me?

More tears shook down his face, red and hot again, and he burst into sobs. He had never seen people so full of hate before, so in shock, so terrified.

"Hels?"

He didn't lift his head, the waves of embarrassment and shock overcoming him.

"Oh no... you went through the nether portal, didn't you?"

He didn't know what Ex was talking about, the words foreign to his ears, which were burning. He continued to sob into his arms, trying to cover his face. What if Ex was scared of him too, like the people on the other side?

"It's ok, buddy. It's ok. I'm here now."

Ex's metal covered arms wrapped around him, patting his back comfortingly. Hels sobbed into his chest, unable to stop the fiery orange streaming from his eyes.

"E-ex?" Ex's metal armor warmed with the lava simmering on it from Hels' tears, but he didn't mind.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Am I a monster?"