Hermitcraft Oneshots

Prey Instincts

It had been a long time since he'd stood alone on the border of a Jungle biome. After everything that had happened last season, Doc had tried his best to avoid them if at all possible. Seeing Scar's "pet" in one such location had only reiterated the importance of staying away.

And yet staying away from an entire biome was a hard thing to do. Sure, other hermits got supplies from the jungles and sold them in shops, so if he should ever need materials, he could get them. He could go on comfortably as a Hermit without ever having to step foot in a jungle again.

But Doc kept going back to the Jungle in his thoughts. Not just the one from last season, though. How Scar and Cub had managed to catch such a creature, he wasn't sure. Vex magic hijinks, he presumed. But the fact of the matter was that when Scar had showed him his "friend", as a sign of trust, Doc had experienced something that Scar seemed to have not. How much of what he remembered from that night was legitimate was something he had to figure out. The answer, he knew, could be crucial in trying to find Etho and Beef. The discussion he had had with Bdubs had helped to rekindle his hopes. But there were too many variables that had to be sorted out first.

So here he was, leaning on a tree just outside the jungle, his claws shaving off dark pieces of bark from the trunk as he tried to convince himself that this was something he was capable of doing. He had to know how badly he'd been affected.

"Just a few minutes," He told himself, "and I'll be in and out.  I'm not staying in there for very long, just long enough to know where I stand." 

Repeating this to himself, he pushed himself off the tree and into the foliage, a couple of wood shavings still stuck between his claws. Doc shook off the scraps and moved forward a bit.

The first thing that hit him was the way the shadows were moving. Of course, with thick leaf coverage overhead, the sun would make weird looking shadows, and logically, Doc knew this. But somewhere in his mind, every sensation was screaming that he wasn't alone in here, that he was being watched, stalked, hunted even.

Maybe it was just the wind that was making those whispering sounds, like many overlapping voices trying to convey a message, but it could also have been the same entities that had been in there for so long with him and the rest of the NHO. 

Or it could all just be in his head. That was also a possibility. But while his logical mind was looking to reason away every single bit of panic he felt, his instinctive mind kept suggesting that that wasn't what was actually happening, reminding him of all the reasons he should be afraid.

A howl pierced the air and Doc rolled back on his heels, ready to fight whatever was in here with him. He wouldn't be the prey of the jungle. He let out a hiss of warning to whoever else was in here. The jungle was a place where predator and prey fought tooth and nail to survive, and he was going to survive.

He felt something grab onto him and start pulling him away, and he lashed out, kicking out with his leg. The hunter fell down with a pained grunt, and Doc whirled around looking for an escape. But by this point, there were too many shadows dancing around in his vision for him to see through the trees. 

"Doc, please, calm down!" A voice said. "You're okay, just focus on me."

The speaker soon made themselves known as a familiar diamond-eyed Swede. His one brown eye glinted with concern, and he looked far from smiling. There was a large bruise on his cheek, and several things started to click together for Doc.

The two sat in silence for a few moments, outside of the jungle biome. The sun was significantly lower in the sky than it was before. The soft grass of the fields outside of the cursed place was a welcome distraction from the thoughts flying through Doc's head.

Eventually, Doc broke the silence. "I'm sorry I kicked you." He muttered.

Iskall shrugged. "I'll heal. Besides, you weren't exactly in a good state of mind."

The creeper hybrid winced at this. No, he hadn't been in a good state of mind. That was the effect that the jungle had on him. It took his conscious logical thought process and replaced them with animalistic instincts. And panic could do the same thing. But which one had triggered it this time?

"Why were you in there anyway?" The Swede continued. Not an accusatory question, but a genuine one.

Doc shook his head. "I needed to be able to tell the difference between in there and up here." He replied, gesturing to the jungle and his head respectably. 

Iskall closed his eyes and leaned back. "Okay, I can understand why you'd have to do that." He relented. "But you've got a team ready to support you if you need it. I don't know what happened in the Jungle, but you shouldn't be expected to go through all of this alone. We've got your back, man."

Doc furrowed his brow, his red eye gleaming. "I can't just avoid it forever. I'm close to a breakthrough on the situation, Iskall. I can't let unreasonable panic keep me from it, not when I'm so close." He said, unrelenting steel in his voice.

Iskall was not dissuaded. "I didn't say to avoid it. And your panic is completely reasonable! I'm saying to let us help you, Doc. Or at least to let us know what you're planning on doing. If I wasn't working on my resort, who knows what could have happened."

The German man groaned. "I still didn't get the information I needed." He bemoaned. "That's going to set me back a bit. I can't afford all of these setbacks. I have to know what happened in there, what happened to them."

"You need closure." Iskall summed up. "And that's understandable. So we're going to help you get it." He held up his hand to silence the protests Doc immediately started spewing.

 "You're not alone anymore, so stop acting like you are." the Swede reprimanded him, a cheeky smile on his face, and Doc finally had to relent. But even though he might reject the idea of having his fellow hermits help him with this, he was glad to have their support. So for the time being, he lay back and closed his eyes, not noticing the vine clumps being pulled back into the treeline like a fisherman's empty hook.