Clay, a criminal on the loose, is hunting the critically endangered 'draco finis', or the Ender Dragon. After seeing a wanted poster offering a large reward for his capture, rookie hunters Nick, George and Darryl go on a wild hunt for the man in hop...
Clay felt cold press against his skin. He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket, shielding his face with the hood. He glanced around wearily, attempting to blend in, though a few pairs of suspicious eyes cut through his façade, although they didn't say a word to him.
Dull moonlight illuminated the street, painting the road in specks of soft light. Clay kept his gaze on the ground, walking quickly.
I probably seem sketchy as fuck, he hissed to himself, which is not helping me.
As he stepped over a specific crack in the concrete, one that split the slab in half like a ravine, he made a sharp left turn, flicking the hood off his head and fixing his dirty blonde hair with a quick ruffle. Quickening his pace, he thumped up the stairs, opening the door to the apartment complex.
The walls were faded red brick. It smelt of cigarettes and other unidentified smells, probably coming from the number of rats infesting the place judging by the constant incessant scratching tearing at his ears every night.
It wasn't the nicest place to stay and had virtually no protection, but it was the only place that wouldn't rat him out to the cops, as long as he paid the rent.
"Aye," the man at the desk paused to cough as he greeted Clay. "Dream!" Clay huffed, turning to meet his eyes.
"It's Clay," he said. He hated people calling him that name, 'Dream'. It reminded him of how much of a horrible person he was.
"I'll call you what I want." The man's gaze suddenly hardened before returning to normal. "How are you?"
"Good," Clay replied shortly, heading for the stairs. He heard the guy call after him but his voice was muffled as Clay raced up the stairs. He knew the thumping would annoy people but they didn't care enough to complain. The majority of the people living in these run-down apartments were either drug addicts, poor college students or criminals, like himself.
Clay paced down the dark hallway, counting the rooms.
21, 23, 25, 27, 29, 31, 33.
He fumbled through his keys, trying a couple before getting the right one. The door clicked open after a few wiggles of the key. Clay quickly shut it behind him, breathing heavily.
Finally. Safety.
The familiar filthy white walls and dank atmosphere of his room would repel most, though it brought him great comfort. It was the only place where he felt safe, from the police, from the people with their cold stares, from the world that seemed intent on ruining his life.
Clay collapsed on his bed, the sheets were gritty and covered in suspicious stains. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, browsing through the latest news when a certain article caught his eye
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Clay's eyes lit up. Ender Dragons were notoriously difficult to kill, and now all portals had be shut or dismantled.
A perfect challenge, was Clay's first thought. If I have that egg... I need it. I need it right now.
Clay sat up, feeling for the lamp cord without taking his eyes off his phone. His fingers flicked across the screen like lightning, scribbling down notes as he researched everything about dragons.
By the time he was finished, the sun was peeking through the blinds, light filtering into his room in brilliant golden rays. He hadn't realised how fast the time had gone by, and how many pages he'd filled up.
His notebook was filled with miscellaneous scribbles, the dragon's abilities, it's strengths, weak spots, even basic knowledge like it's habitat and mating habits. Luckily the pages were numbered, so he labelled each 'chapter', or section of the notebook and scrawled down a contents page.
Clay grabbed the largest backpack he owned and stuff a couple of supplies into it. First the notebook in a special pocket, then a couple of snacks and a torch he had laying around in the main section. He swung the bag over his back, approaching the door before noticing a round, white object laying on his beside.
He paused, turning his head slightly to look at it. On his bedside was a mask, a round white mask with a smiley face on it. He walked closer and picked it up to examine it.
The eyes were narrow and made of mesh so they were see-through from one side. The mouth was curved into a slight smile. There was something distinctly... wrong about the expression. Maybe it was the eyes, but it seemed cold and unfeeling. Emotionless, despite the smile.
Clay turned it over. He winced. in bold letters, it said 'DREAM', and he remembered where he got it from. It just... showed up one day. No explanation, it just randomly arrived on the doorstep of his apartment. When he asked the man at the desk about it he said he had no recollection of ever seeing anyone put it there, nor putting it there himself.
I don't want to get caught... Clay thought to himself, studying the mask. Shrugging, he swung his bag off his shoulders and stuffed it in beside the torch. I guess it could come in handy at some point.
Too lazy to get changed, Clay hauled the bag over his shoulders again and cracked open the door. It was quiet. Silently, he slipped out, closing the door behind him and walking down the stairs slowly as to not wake anyone up.
As he came to the front desk he noticed no-one was there, luckily. Leaving the apartments for possibly the last time, he squinted as the bright glow of sunlight hit his eyes. Dawn had only just broken and the sky danced with the beautiful colours sunrise brought.
Clay huffed. Tools. I need tools. He strode out into the street, nearly forgetting to cover his face. His stomach churned with a mix of excitement and pure, raw anxiety. Tools, Clay. Tools. Stop getting distracted.
< - - - - - >
Clay's shoulder's felt as though they could fall off at any moment. Why is iron so damn heavy...
He was approaching the huge walls that surrounded the town, shielding it from the monsters that lurked in the wild. Clay knew that it would be dangerous. But that's why he brought an axe.
He had about six more hours of daylight before monsters came out of their caves. In that time, he had to get as far away as possible from the town in order not to be followed. You're wasting time, he thought to himself.
