Delta 6 (The Pack)

Chapter 28

Warnings: None

~Preston's P.O.V.~

      "ROB-"

     Rob, being the stubborn idiot that he is, dives right towards Vikk and presses his palm flat against his chest. Even though I know it's way too late, I still try to grab Rob and pull him away, in some feeble attempt to stop his essential suicide mission. However the instant his hand touched Vikk there's a blinding white flash, illuminating the entire room in a brilliant white flame. I reel back, instinctively shielding my eyes, and tumbling to the ground. And then, just as soon as it had started, it was all over. There are two dull thumps, the light disappears, and a couple potions teeter and fall of a nearby shelf, shattering on the floor.

       "Oh Notch, ow my eyes..." I groan, palms wandering up to rub the tears pooling there.

     I blink rapidly to clear the remaining blurriness, and then the nature of the current situation sends a jolt of panic through my heart. Rob! Vikk! Both Vikk and Rob are our cold, slumped lifelessly on the ground. Scrambling to my feet, I rush over to Vikk, who happens to be the closest. He's not a zombie anymore, thankfully. But... he's not fully 'Vikk' either.

Half of his skin is completely healed, back to it's fresh mocha colour. The other half, however, is still a deep sickly green, and it's still hanging loosely and has several tears, exposing rotten dirty blood and bone. His face is a perfect split of this contrast, however the rest of his arms and presumably body is just patches of rotten flesh among his normal youthful skin. Tentatively peeling back an eye lid, I see that one is normal, and upon opening the zombie side it is totally black with a red iris. Rob, his magic having been previously exhausted, was only able to complete half the spell and as a result he's effectively turned Vikk into a half zombie. The final difference is that his gem, one fully white, now has veins of black running through one half. Vikk is quivering slightly, but other than that his breathing is deep and even and he seems at peace.

Shifting over to Rob, who thank Notch is more than just a gem on the floor amongst a pile of items. So at the very least, he's not dead. I knock on the wooden floor anyways. The next thing I examine is his gem, which is fully intact and not cracked in the slightest. What isn't very encouraging though is how pale his skin is, and the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and off his face which displays pure discomfort. His chest rises and falls quickly, and in general he just looks like an absolute mess.

"Rob...?" I whisper, poking his cheek. No response.

Frowning, I press my palm against his forehead, gasping silently as the hotness indicates a serious fever. Pursing my lips, I stand up, splitting into two smaller me's and working together with myself so scavenge the room for healing and regeneration positions, as well as a strength potion for good luck. Setting the potions on the floor, I morph back into a single entity. And so, one by one, I pour the liquids of various reds and pinks down his throat. Almost immediately his face relaxes a bit, but when I touch my hand to his forehead again, it's still burning. A bit of colour had returned to his face, but he is most definitely still sick.

"Frick, now what? I know diddly squat about brewing potions, and even if he has an instruction book or something around here I don't think potions are going to do much else..." I ponder aloud, slumping down on a chair in defeat. "I could go out and try to find help from a mage, or go to his stronghold and try to find something but... I don't want to lead him here with Vikk. He could still be dangerous..."

Even saying this, the prospect is still tempting to leave and try to do something, anything to better the situation. But just then, a low rumble of thunder growls outside, and there's the soft pitter-patter of rain beginning to drum on the roof. Within a few seconds, the thunder is booming, the wind is roaring, and the rain is pelting against Robs home in steady sheet. I frown, gazing at my glowing hot skin with disgust. There goes that idea...

At this time, Silver comes trotting down the stairs, seemingly unconcerned with the two bodies collapsed on the floor. She whines, curling up close to my side and nudging her head under my hand. I scratch her head slowly, knowing well that she does not do the best with storms. Out of pure boredom, I glance at the white lines still constantly shining from my gem. The two that would be connecting Vikk, Rob and I are gone now. The other three are decently bright, but they are shattered into small fragments with purple dust filling the gaps. I assume this means that the other three people are in the Nether, and judging by their similar states of brightness, they are all together. Well... that's good at least. They must be using the Nether to find us faster. Maybe we won't have to leave after all... it is pretty cozy here... Yawning, my eyes begin to droop, and soon enough my world is disappearing to the steady beat of the rain.

~~~

The wind is howling, and dark angry clouds fill the sky. Rain pours down like a waterfall, held off only by a thin forcefield, which seems to flicker in and out, on the verge of breaking. I am suspended in air, held by some unseen force that squeezes around my neck, preventing any cry for help. I claw desperately at my throat but to no avail. Below me, an abyss of infinite black gapes, evil and death resonating from its core.

There are six unidentifiable figures in the area, which happens to be a snow biome. And there are mobs, mobs absolutely everywhere, creating a circle around us but not moving an inch. Five of the figures have white hearts glowing at the centre of their otherwise black shadowy forms. Even though I know none of their features, I still feel a strange connection to them. Three of them are sprawled on the ground. One is on its knees, hunched over and arms braced against the ground, just barely kneeling. The fifth is behind me, standing tall and still, with black veins running through its white heart. The sixth has no heart, and is directly beside me, one arm outstretched in a fist yet not actually touching me.

The sixth figure speaks to the one on its knees, and yet I cannot distinguish any words. The shadow on its knees seem to beg, and then suddenly, the grip on my throat is released. A silent scream passes my lips as I spiral into the endless abyss, wind tearing my voice away. And then... it's black.

And then a seventh figure appears out of the darkness. He has blue jeans, an aqua shirt, hair as brown as chocolate, and two piercing white eyes. There's a certain vibe resonating from him... something evil. Something dark. He does not introduce himself, but somehow, I know his name. Herobrine.

"Why are you doing this?" I squeak, frozen on the spot.

The tyrant does not respond, instead drawing an enchanted diamond pickaxe. And then he speaks in a low, smooth voice.

"I know but three of your locations. However finding you three shall not be difficult. You may have the power of Notch on your side... but I promise..."

He lunges forward, the diamond tool whirling towards my skull in a fatal arc.

"You will not win."

~~~
Questions of the chapter:

What are your thoughts on that last part?