Prologue

401 9 7
                                        

Published: Mar 31, 2019
RE: Sep 25, 2021

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   I sighed, getting an ice cold beer from my fridge, popping off the cap and sat on my chair. You know, the iconic gamer chair that the latest YouTubers these days have.

   I love Minecraft. I mean, who doesn't? There's something just so appealing about being able to build whatever structure you want. In the game, creativity is the limit. New mobs are added, new structures are added, items are added, and so much more. Hell, there's even mods being made out there that make gameplay even more fun or difficult.

   Now I always keep to myself, but lately I've been watching others play. . . I can't help but want to get myself out there. Now one might say I'm doing it for revenue, but I'm not. Sure, I can make money on the side, but I just want to share my passion with the world! Well, to the part that cares at least. I know I'll never reach the big leagues of popularity, but that's fine by me.

   Right now I'm setting everything up. The anticipation is killing me. For me, gaming was always a way to escape the real world and be whoever I wanted to be. I could be a futuristic, badass soldier in a sci-fi world like Master Chief, roleplay as a mage in a world filled with dragons and elves like Skyrim, or just be some guy building to his heart's content. In a way, I feel like I'm more than just me. I feel like I'm everyone. Well, at least the ones I play as. Of course, I'm a bit of a shut in and lack social skills. Social interaction is the death of me. Though I have a job because the world moves on and I need to pay the bills.

   I'm single, still in college, majoring in architecture and all alone as my roommate is out partying. Fine by me, I have the place to myself and my games. Plus, he pays rent so no big deal. So what if he's getting drunk, getting laid while I have my beer, games, and still am a. . .virgin. Maybe I do need to get out more. Ah, my computer's finally on. Time to ignore my insecurities and play some Minecraft!

   My camera's on and my game is ready, not live yet. Playing Minecraft, skin is Steve. I always go for Steve. Some might think that it's nostalgia, but the main reason is my name is Steve. Steve Knowles. Talk about projection, haha. Ah, I'm nervous. What should I say? How do I start off? 

   As I think about what to do before I go live, I hear something in the kitchen. The sound of glass shattering. Feeling cautious, I reach in my drawer to get out my revolver and quietly approach the kitchen. I'm internally a wreck, but I play it cool. When I made it there, I found nothing. The thought of getting the hell out and calling the police comes to the surface, and I ultimately decide that's the best choice. As I cautiously make my way to the front door, I hear something upstairs.

   The intruder was in my room.

   Any idea to play hero is stupid in my mind. It's not like they could steal my computer or anything with the weight and all. I don't have much on me to be honest. With my hand on the doorknob and ready to leave, I freeze. I couldn't move my hand at all. It feels like someone or something is controlling me all of a sudden. I can hear whispering in my head, cold and filled with anguish.

'gO UpStAiRs. . .'

'HE iS waItinG. . .'

   I tried to resist yet it was useless, because I found myself walking upstairs. Slowly approaching my room, the door slightly ajar and I could see shadows dance around through the opening. I push the door open and no one is there, yet my body is still beyond my control. My eyes subconsciously land on my computer screen.

   It was Steve.

   No, not Steve.

   There were no pupils.

   Only milky white eyes.

   I slowly made my way to the chair, sitting down and suddenly I'm live.

   He is staring at me. The whispers in my head get louder.

   'YoU mUsT dO iT. . .'

   'WE aRe WaItInG. . .'

   'Do It. . .'

    Suddenly, there is text on the screen.

[Greetings, Steve.]

[It is I, Herobrine.]

[You have caught my eye.]

[My shadows have been watching you.]

[Congratulations, you have been chosen.]

   I was confused. Chosen for what? My gaze makes its way to my hand. The very hand holding my revolver.

[You must believe I am not real.]

[And, yet, here I am.]

[You're confused, that much is understandable.]

[I know a lot about you.]

[Favorite food, favorite color, favorite show. . .favorite game.]

[You major in architecture.]

[Nice decision.]

[The novel you read. . . The pictorial adaptation is. . .interesting to say nonetheless.]

   My thumb pulls back the hammer, cocking it. The barrel of the gun slowly inched its way to my mouth as I see comments to "don't do it." To actually "go for it," with some "lols." That I'm "a faker." That I'm an "attention seeker." I'm not. This is real. I don't want to die! Not like this! I don't want to commit suicide, especially not live! I don't want to be remembered for this!

[I'm here to offer you a gift.]

[Non-returnable.]

[I believe you'll thank me.]

[Your life will end.]

[You will be reborn.]

[Do NOT disappoint me.]

[God is watching.]

[You don't want to fail HIM, do you?]

[I'm God.]

[You are my son.]

[You are Steve.]

[And, you will meet me one day.]

[This is your fate.]

[Accept it.]

[Son.]

   My finger finally pulls the trigger, and everything goes dark.


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Wow, that was. . .something.

Herobrine, huh?

What do you guys think? Was Steve Knowles some schizophrenic guy or seeing some truth? Up to you to decide.

The question is, is the story going anywhere?

Maybe, maybe not.

But while you're here, why not read it? That is if you're still interested that is.

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