Heyy!

So it turns out...I gots to move in like...a week...and I thought I had two months...

So YE! Know that I won't stop writing, but the updates may come slower. I WILL finish though!

BTW, the pic above was drawn in colored pencil...so the quality is...bad...I'll have to redo it digitally, but for now, look upon its wonderous glory XD

Vote, comment, and ENJOY!

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RECAP

          Without a sound, the immortal and the faint light of the being's eyes vanished into the darkness, leaving Steve alone.

          Steve bit back a whimper of fear as the blackness closed around him. He realized he was muttering a prayer to Notch.

          He wondered if the creator could hear him from this cold, desolate place.

          Hanging his head, Steve let his blue eyes drift closed.

          He'd meet his creator soon enough.

          He only hoped it would be swift.

END RECAP

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          The cold night air enveloped a cyan-clad figure as he appeared outside on a mountain. It did not bother him in the slightest, being immune to intense temperatures served him well during his hunts. Cool wind blew against him, whipping his cyan tunic to and fro, and ruffling his brown hair as his eyes lit up the dark rocks surrounding him. Moonlight bathed his strong, intimidating form in calming light, but he ignored it.

          Beneath him, the demon could feel the human prisoner's rapid heartbeat through the rocks. He smirked, the man had been foolish to inform the being of his fears. A few hours in a dark space, unable to move, would do wonders to the mortal's mind, prepping it beautifully for questioning later.

          The being closed his eyes, stretching out his hearing and feeling the rocks beneath him for signs and telltale vibrations. For now, the immortal needed to forget the human and focus on ridding his lands of the remaining human pests. After he was sure none would get away, he would return and get his answers.

          The human would regret ever coming here.

           A slight tremor in the ground, coming from the east, caught the immortal's attention. His glowing eyes shot open, and a slow grin spread across his face. The heartbeat had been thready and weak, the mortal was most likely wounded. Another pulse from the north also caught his attention, making his smile grow. This one was strong, and on the move, that one would be fun to play with.

          He felt the energy to teleport swell within him, and he appeared with a small cyan flash about twenty blocks from the weak, irregular heartbeat. A large spike of rock blocked out the sight of his prey, but that was no matter, the mortal wasn't going anywhere. Ragged breathing met his ears, and the smell of blood was heavy, making being grin again in delight. This one would be a feast of fear.

          Summoning his pickax, the immortal crept silently around the jutting rock, his eyes flashing brightly in eager anticipation. However, as he rounded the corner, there was nothing. Frowning a little, the being looked about and noticed a large fracture in the rocks, the beginning of a ravine. Ah, the human had fallen. Creeping soundlessly to the edge, the demon peered over the lip. There, he could see the unfortunate human. A male with reddish hair lay, panting heavily, on a section of jutting rock about five blocks in width at the base that tapered to a sharp point.

          He appeared to have fallen, as his leg was bent under him at an unnatural angle. A poorly wrapped gash on his head gave away the fact that he'd been previously wounded. The immortal merely watched as the human shifted a bit, then shuddered and cried out from moving his leg. He sat there, groaning, then glanced up longingly from where he'd fallen.

          And locked eyes with the demon.

           His face paled even more at the sight of the blank, glowing eyes and sharp, bared canines, "N-no...oh Notch, please...no..."

          The immortal merely stood there, looking down at the hapless victim, listening gleefully as the man's heartbeat increased. He would need to hurry up with this one, the heartbeat traveling north was getting farther away. The being leaped down into the ravine, boots slamming, hard, onto the ledge near the mortal's head, his landing making the rock shudder. The human flinched and uttered a muffled groan of pain, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back onto the rocks as if he had accepted his fate.

          The demon loomed over the injured man, his shadow blocking out the moonlight. He snarled, making the human jump, annoyed at how his prey so readily accepted death. At least the other victim would prove to be more entertaining. Raising his pickax, he aimed for the insignia on the man's tabard. It was a golden hammer surrounded by a golden halo of the sun.

          The pick sped down.

          Soon, the once-white tabard was stained red, the symbol destroyed. The dark rocks around the still body glittered with blood. The immortal barely glanced at the corpse before he again felt for the other heartbeat.

          Closing his glowing eyes, he felt for a good place to warp to, and appeared on a gravelly beach of sorts, next to a river. To his right were several tall rocks, through which a network of paths led, starting from the beach. The place reminded the demon of where he had overpowered his mortal look-alike. Despite himself, the immortal's thoughts strayed to the man. It could not have been mere coincidence that the man had chosen an outfit that was practically identical to his own. The mortal's face had looked familiar as well as if he'd seen the man before.

          The demon snorted angrily. If Notch was behind this, he'd make sure the human would pay dearly for ever agreeing to help the god. Perhaps Notch had constructed the man and picked the outfit to throw the immortal off, to make sure the man would be kept alive and distract the demon for a bit, keep him entertained.

          The being snapped out of his thoughts. He could hear the pounding of the mortal's feet, hear his breathing, smell the sweat and blood. The human would come out of one of the many branching paths soon.

          Pushing away any thoughts of the prisoner, the demon readied his pick.

          The hunt would be bountiful this night.

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           A weak moan forced its way out of Steve's chest. He didn't know how long he'd been in this dark place, but he was more than done with it. He'd tried to sleep, but it was too cold, and if he leaned forward even a little, the rough spikes would dig into his chest.

          His arm was a throbbing mess, and his head ached. He was so hungry, and yet any thought of food had him wanting to gag. He was thirsty, but the thought of water made him panic as if he would drown. He tried to remember happier times, but all he could see was Rand's life fleeing, and a blue spike growing out of Ezan's chest.

          Steve lowered his head and whimpered.

          He just wanted to die.

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           He had to keep running. If he kept moving, the demon could not find him.

          The man wiped the sweat off his brow, keeping his left hand on his sword's hilt as he ran, armored boots pounding into the gravel with his heartbeat.

          He could rest later.

          He had to keep going.

          A spike of pain shot through his left calf and he stumbled, recovered, and continued. He'd been wounded after a fall down a small cliff. The sharp rocks at the bottom had gashed his leg, but nothing vital, thank Notch.

          Keep running.

          The man rounded a corner in the ravine he was in, and the ground before him opened, revealing a river—

          And two glowing eyes.

          The man gasped and skidded to a halt, drawing his iron sword and taking up a stance before he even realized it. The immortal was illuminated in pale moonlight, his pick reflecting the light in a glittering, deadly pattern and his shadow stretched, dark and evil, out before him. Framed by the spray of the rapids behind him, he cut a terrifying figure.

          The wounded man swallowed, his breath still coming in ragged pants. The immortal had found him at last. He had come to terms with this possibility long ago, before he'd even joined the army, and was ready to accept what was coming, "Come to kill me? Only a coward kills a man on uneven grounds!" The man wiped his brow again. Hopefully, that would goad the demon into killing him faster, being toyed with would be far more painful.

          The immortal grinned, not at all affected by the human's meaningless taunts. This human would indeed be more entertaining.

          The man saw the smirk, and he resisted the urge to shudder. Taking a deep breath and readying his blade, he uttered one last shot before he charged, "For lord Notch!"

          The being grimaced at the name, then shot towards the man, swinging his pick in a full circle about his body, gaining momentum for a devastating blow.

          The human ducked with a swiftness that belied his injured form, righting immediately and driving his sword upwards. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw, in a split-second, the impossible swiftness of the pick's return sweep. He stopped himself mid-thrust and threw himself to the ground, on his back. The pick arced over him then swept upwards and down. The human rolled out of harm's way just as the pick drove deep into the ground he'd been lying on.

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          The demon jerked his pick from the stone, causing the rock around it to crack. His smile grew ever wider, this human was definitely making his hunt worthwhile. Growling, the being crouched down and leaped twenty blocks into the air, swinging his pick behind him. He saw the mortal take a few startled steps back. The demon took note of the mortal's limp, then began to fall, spinning to gain momentum, his form blurring, melding with the pick as he descended on his prey.

          The human gave a frightened yell, then hurled his sword at the blurred form, flung his body to the right, dived into a roll, and came up on his feet, grimacing as his leg throbbed. He whirled just in time to see his sword disappear into the spinning mass.

          A roar came from the demon, and he broke form, landing heavily before rolling to his feet. The human gaped, his sword, his simple iron sword, was buried deep in the immortal's right shoulder. Blood, a dark black-red in the moonlight, ran down the sword, dripping to the sharp gravel. The mortal's eyes strayed from the blood pooling on the ground to the now-blazing eyes of the being.

          The demon's breathing became harsh, and he growled lowly, dangerously. The man gulped, fear rising within him. His time was coming soon, he could feel it.

          The being dropped his pick, the resounding clang making the human jump and back up a pace. The immortal kept his eyes locked with the dark brown ones of the now-shaking human. The being reached up slowly, deliberately, took hold of the sword's blade and yanked it out of his shoulder with a snarl.

          Straightening from his crouched stance, the human planted his feet, bowing his head and closing his eyes, "Notch, give me strength..."

           The last thing he knew was another roar, immense pain in the dead center of his chest, and darkness.

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          The immortal stood, huffing, over the collapsed body of his second kill. The soldier's own sword was buried up to the hilt in the man's chest. The demon stood proud and straight, despite the blood flowing from his shoulder, never one to show weakness like a feeble human from a mere shoulder wound. The immortal was angry with himself; he should have been more alert rather than striving to show off his power and superiority over the wounded human. It mattered not, however. The pain was nothing to him.

          Uttering another low growl, the being felt the ground for vibrations again, stretching his senses to the maximum, not caring if the cursed creator felt his outburst of silent power. He scowled, feeling many slight poundings through the stone. There was a large group of five to the southwest, three together to the east, three separate to the north, and seven to the southeast. The seven were not together and appeared to have been lost in a place he'd named the 'Paths of Death'. It was a massive gathering of ravines, resulting in a huge maze full of pitfalls, cave-ins, and even lava.

          The being felt his eagerness for the hunt return to him, despite his injury.

          He decided to strike the five first.

          A flash of cyan, and all that was left on the small battlefield was a broken body and a few puddles of blood, glaring in the moonlight.

          This night was a night of death.

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;D

Now this was short, but a longer one be on its way!

Vote and comment if you enjoyed it :D