Brave As Yourself

Prologue

   Deep inside the planet, past the great dwarven halls, deeper then the mob spawning caves, within the bedrock cube was the Nether. Further still within the fiery lava pits, was the Vault Of Souls. It was true the Nether was a hellish realm that could be reached only with a Nether portal, but it was still part of the physical world and served as a security system. Within the Vault Of Souls were the souls of the cruel, dark, and twisted mortals as well as immortal souls damned there forever. The vault was under the deepest parts of the lava, the Ghasts acting as alarms for the Whither skeletons and zombie pigmen if anyone were to get to close, or a soul were to somehow slip out of the doors, but it had never happened. The Nether portals were only possible one way, for no water could remain in liquid form there. This prevented lava from cooling therefore forming obsidian. Meaning if the the souls would have to search aimlessly for days if not months to find one that was opened, or one to be created. There were of course ways to skip the Nether entirely, but only by the most powerful of ways, from making a deal with the Vaults keeper Herobrine, using other souls as pure energy to break through and being summoned by the darkest and bloody ways.

   Inside the vault it was a dark endless void, the air was thick with the smell of something dead and unforgiving, there was no wind, yet one could hear someone screaming from miles away. It was so dark, after twenty blocks, all one would see was the dark void that made up the world. It was filled with souls either shackled to the ground, trapped in aimless floating orbs of pain, being hung from the ceiling by the neck, wrist or ankles. But there was one of the worst punishments reserved for the cruelest. They were locked inside a tower where they could hear all the screams, feel a furnace under them and with every movement scraped their bodies against thorns, barbed wire and even legos all over the floor and walls. One such soul, a powerful immortal killed by a pure hearted dwarf and his friends now rested there. Israphel the Mad.

   Israphel almost resembled a creeper if only in his skins pattern and face, only his skin was albino with grey instead of darker green, his body thin, cold and stretched. His eyes were a bloody red, only fading to a satanic orange to show his pupils, his mouth gaping into a frowning hiss with sharp looking teeth inside. He was average in height, wearing a long black trench coat with golden buckles down the front and deep brown pants with no shoes, being forced to feel the shards, pointy edges, and lego corners stab into him. He had been stuck there for years, decades even.  And he was going mad from just hearing the pathetic souls droning on about their pain, wishing they were silenced for good if only so he could think in peace. He did of course deserve this after forming a cult of monsters and conquering entire cities for the sake of the blood bath and sheer madness of it all. He had been cut off from the Overworld for Notch knew how long, and it was impossible to do anything with a sword alone, it wasn't until he sensed his blood being injected into another, that he felt joy again and immediately began to try and connect himself to them.

   The blood flowing through the veins of mortals was his link as the blood was spread, and strengthened him with every person added into his cult. Soon he felt that there was enough to make a psychic connection and to his alarm and confusion, it was the blond scientist. The one that was always with those two heroes, clever and scientific. At first he was hesitant, wondering if this were a trick, or some sick game the scientist was playing with him, but he could tell he was indeed truly infected. However, he kept his distance as he soon saw he too was a prisoner. What surprised him most, was the Spaceman becoming infected from the blood on the sword, the best friend to the same dwarf that had slayed him. He originally planned to stay as far away as he could from him, however he soon learned that it was a clone that had his DNA and the sword currently working at Yoglabs, the same place the original scientist was held. Yet he still kept his distance, unwilling to risk anything and settled for watching the two closely for the time being seeing them actually grow a deep rooted hatred for one another. This puzzled him greatly and as time passed he felt another presence join his cult, surprisingly a female Minecraftian of all things! Then upon inspection of her, he discovered she was just another clone of the imprisoned scientist made accidentally by the Spaceman during one of his infamous all-nighters. He began to watch all three a little closer as time passed. Since he had fused himself with the old gods of blood and chaos he was able to keep this connection and used it to fuel himself.

He witnessed the blond ones escape and their lives playing out, ignoring the more boring bits, tuning in like a radio to the more interesting parts of their little adventures. It made him sick seeing how clumsy and ridiculous they both were, messing with other clones, one embracing the madness, taking it like a fish to water the other denying and fighting it. Not long after there was one small woman that had madness, but something else, something inky that blocked him off making him give up trying to speak with her. Soon enough, he was able to talk to the Spaceman, he had almost forgotten about his blood on the sword that he held. He was more then satisfied when he did make the contact, immediately sensing his desire to bring the other two back to the lab. His first attempt at the link proved as difficult as he suspected, with the Spaceman ignoring him and telling him to go back to the Nether. But being the smarter man that he was, he came up with a way to get his attention, and support. He told him he knew where the blonds were and promised to tell him where if he helped him with a few things. Soon he had the Spaceman following his instructions closely, building the summoning circle, sacrificing testificates for their blood, and cloning himself with Israphels blood in the mix. Progress was slower then the Spaceman wanted, he was so impatient and even went as far as to hiring the Hat trio for assistance in pillaging villages for their priests to pass time quicker.

   Although the plan to get Israphel out of the Nether didn't call for them until further on, the Spaceman insisted to do it sooner and keep them for later use. It occurred to him that another problem was still around, the kindhearted dwarf that was never to far from the Spaceman. He questioned him about his dwarven companion. But to his surprise he shrugged it off as if it were he were no concern, apparently he was still in the Holodeck. This clone was more ambitious then the original spaceman. They were at a point in the plan even if the dwarf had realized what was going on he would be powerless to stop things from spiraling out of control. Israphel continued his manipulation and contaminating of the Spaceman until his corruption was greater then the blood soaked blond one. It filled him with immense satisfaction to see his work nearly complete, and now with his new form came the new name, Xephriel! The name pleased him so to know he was a few steps away from achieving his goals, all that was left to require was the further corruption of two other minecraftians, and Xephriel to use as sacrifices.

He'd better not mess this up, I've had more then my fill of this damned prison. He paced across the floor wincing in pain at ever move. His fatal wound that caused his death was a gaping sword wound right through his abdomen hitting his right lung, but also his intestines, his stomach and kidney since it had been in an odd angle from below. Luckily it didn't bleed, but it hurt all the same. He stopped and leaned on the wall looking out the small cell window with caged bars over it, with only distant fire light showing below, everything else just the empty black void. He closed his eyes thinking hard on what he'd do when he escaped.

"Lord Israphel?" The voice of Xephriel seemed to echo through the room, but he knew it came from his connection.

"What is it Xephrel? Have you retrieved the others?"

"No sir, I was about to leave. I'm double checking they are in that direction, what if there is anyone else?"

"If there is anyone else with them either kill them or use them as leverage, I trust you have the fore power for such an event?"

"Of course sir, I will let you know when I've retrieved them and make sure they ingest the special brew."

"See to it you do." He cut off the connection quickly, and began to relax, his plans were being taken into affect.