Missing (Third in An Old Friend Series) //Hermitcraft & Yhs Crossover\\

2

        "So who else could have done this?" Ren eavesdropped on the conversation happening inside the Sahara meeting room, listening to the concern laced voices of his friends through the door. The question had been asked by Iskall, but Mumbo quickly answered before Grian could even think about an answer. 

        "Why do you assume a person did this?" He asked, and Grian sighed.

        "You heard what everyone was saying in there. There was no way a mob could have done that much damage. It has to be Sam. Maybe you missed Mumbo, I mean, I thought I killed him too but I didn't. It was a stressful moment, your brain can make things look different from how they are." Grian suggested, and Ren's got very nervous. They killed someone? He kept listening, and even though he knew it couldn't be true, something deep inside of him told him to be suspicious of them. 

        "I didn't miss, nor did I hallucinate! He was physically tied down and I sliced him directly in the face. Sam is dead. It's not him." Mumbo shouted suddenly, and the other Architechs quieted in response. Before he could stop himself, Ren gasped, but quickly put a hand over his mouth to silence himself. 

        "Did you guys hear that?" Grian asked, and Ren heard their chairs move as they all began to walk towards the door. He stepped away from the door and as quickly as possible ran around the corner. He heard the meeting door open, stood as quietly as possible before finally the door was shut again. Ren relaxed a moment, but let the information he had just learned set in. They had killed a tied-up person named Sam. Maybe he didn't know his friends as much as he thought he did. He waited for another moment before he slowly walked out of the building and back onto the main streets. He flew back to his base thinking of how to approach telling the rest of the hermits what he had heard without letting the Sahara boys know what they knew. 

Impulse could feel his head pounding. One thing he instantly noticed about his surroundings, was the overwhelming silence. All he could hear was his own labored breaths, along with the breath of a few other people. His eyes opened slowly and were met with a wooden floor he didn't recognize, and now that he was fully conscious, the pain in his head was much more noticeable. It was dark where he was, but as his eyes opened, he could see the shapes of figures sitting on the floor next to him. He moved away from them as fast as he could, unaware of whether they were friendlies, until he heard a voice he recognized.

        "Hey, hey, hey, calm down. It's me, Cub." He soothed, and Impulse calmed down a bit.

        "Cub?"

        "Yeah, it's me. Also Keralis and TFC." 

        "Where are we?" Impulse looked at what he could see of his friend's faces in the low light, but they all looked clueless. 

         "We don't know. We just woke up here, same as you. And he won't give us any information." Keralis added, but Impulse was more confused. 

        "He?" He asked.

        "The guy that brought us here," TFC said tersely, and Impulse was suddenly brought back to the night he was taken. 

He had just finished refilling a chest of mending books when he saw him. Standing just outside the key-card necessary door stood a figure all in black, a mask over his face with a hood draped over it, and lurking. The sun had just begun to set, and because the thought of danger in the quaint "Hermitcraft" was unknown to him, he opened the door slightly to poke his head out with a smile on his face. 

        "A customer! We just restocked mending if you need some! As long as you have a membership, of course! Nice costume by the way, but who are you?" He asked, but the figure suddenly lunged toward him. Impulse pulled his head out of the door out of shock, but not before the figure stuck their foot into the doorway to hold open the door. They slipped into the store, and a very shocked Impulse stood over by the chests. "Very funny, scaring me like that. But seriously, who are you?" He asked, trying to sound like he wasn't getting a bit nervous. The figure continued standing quiet, swaying slightly in a way that unnerved Impulse. He started to nervously back away from the figure and put a hand on his sword. "No, but really, who is that under there?" Once again, the figure didn't respond and took another step toward him. Impulse hadn't even realized he was backing away from the figure until he felt his back press against the chests behind him. "Ok look, I'm warning you. This was a very funny prank, but if you don't stop, I will-" He was cut off by the figuring once again lunging at him. Now, though, he could see that the person had something in their hand. A small, pristine syringe. Impulse jumped out of the way, causing the figure to crash into the stack of chests. It all tumbled down as Impulse made a break for the door. 

He only got halfway there before he felt a hand wrap around the back of his head, grab a fistful of hair, and throw his head backward. His head collided with the floor first and felt a puddle of a viscous liquid pool around him, but the fear of his own blood beneath him was nothing compared to the fear he felt as his consciousness drained, watching the figure walk toward him. His eyes felt almost too heavy to keep open, but before they closed the last time, he felt something pierce into his neck, and his drift to sleep was aided. 

Jesus, finally. Sorry for how long this one took, I just suck at writing action things and if you saw my announcements, I was in a bit of a productivity rut. But, here this is. Also, I see a lot of people theorizing that it's Sam doing all of this, and I promise you again, it is not Sam. He is absolutely dead this time. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this mess of a chapter. Thank you for reading, I hope you have a good day/night, and you are lovely.