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RECAP

          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

END RECAP

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          The being huffed as he tapped his sharp teeth with the bloodied, razor edge of his pick absentmindedly. Before him lay the body of a young woman, facedown, in a red puddle. He had forced her to drown in her own blood. This hunt hadn't been as satisfying as others he'd conducted, as his thoughts had wandered constantly back to the prisoner awaiting questioning within that mountain.

          Well, at least now he could get rid of those nagging worries. The sun was just beginning to crest the dark mountains, bathing the dreadful scene with a gentle gold. Night had ended, along with the lives of every human in his territory. Now, he could return to that mortal weakling without worrying about any humans escaping his 'homeland'.

          Despite being out all night, running, chasing, killing mortals, he was barely fazed, and still had plenty of energy. He'd even managed to heal himself from that annoying wound the fighting human had given him. He'd needed to be focused on healing, not distracted from the pain, to heal it, so he'd waited a bit while stalking the group of five humans.

          Focusing on his destination, the demon warped into the tunnel leading to the captive's tiny prison. It was a small cave with a path branching from it that lead farther into the mountain, down into an even larger cavern. The immortal had appeared purposefully behind a curve in the tunnel leading to the surface, suppressing his energy output, listening to see if the man was still alive.

          The sounds of deep breathing met him, and the dull pounding of a heartbeat. A low moan and a slight shuffling noise caused the immortal to grin, he was definitely still awake, and from the sounds of it, had been unable to sleep all night. Perfect.

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          Steve moaned, shifting a little. He was dead tired, his head ached, the cuts all over his body stung immensely. His arm had never ceased its endless throbbing, and would often flare up, sending tingles of pain down into his very fingertips. He dimly wondered why he wasn't dead yet. Perhaps the immortal was gathering undead, then he'd throw Steve to them. The young soldier shuddered, biting back another groan as his arm sent sharp pangs through him. That would be a horrible way to die, being torn apart, able to feel muscle sheared by blunt teeth, torn away from bone...stomach ripped open...

          Steve gagged and tried not to think about it.

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          De-summoning his pick, the immortal let the pressure of his power fill the small chamber as he rounded the corner, brightening his eyes and baring his teeth for effect.

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          The temperature suddenly dropped, causing Steve to gasp reflexively, his breath misting before him, though he could barely see it. The young man caught movement and light in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head slowly, startling when he caught sight of the demon. The being looked...dangerously amused and full of anticipation. Fresh blood flecked his clothing and hands, the smell of iron causing Steve to flinch, wondering if his own was going to join it. Steve shivered as the immortal halted in front of him, folding his powerful arms and lighting up the small space with his blazing eyes.

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          The being merely stood and watched the young man. The mortal soon looked away, swallowing, his heartbeat increasing. Good, this was a perfect time to interrogate him. The human was tired and weak from lack of food, water, and sleep. He could unintentionally let information slip, and lying would be harder, as he would forget vital pieces of his made-up story.

          However, this was not the place to question him. The mortal was trapped, yes, but he had a solid wall at his back, and rock between him and his fears. No, the man needed to be out in the open, in the darkness, unable to defend himself as he was knocked about, while the dark voice of his captor rang evilly in his ears.

          Herobrine grinned, unfolding his arms and reaching out a bloody hand. There was a cavern beneath them.

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          The deafening silence was getting on the man's nerves, suffocating him. Steve dropped his gaze from the taller immortal's eyes, his neck too tired for the weight. Flashing images of possible ways he could die flickered before him. He could be strangled, or thrown to the undead, or flung off a cliff, or stabbed, or...or...

          The young soldier grimaced, fighting the fear welling up within him, trying not to shake so much. Movement came again from the immortal, and Steve flinched but could do nothing to get away from it. The bloody hand reaching towards him halted about halfway raised, palm down and steady as a mountain. Steve stared at it, then glanced up to the stony face, and back down again.

           And then, again, the ground rumbled and shuddered. Steve inhaled sharply as the ground cracked with a sharp report and began to crumble beneath him, causing his shoulder and stomach to spike with pain, "Gah! Wha-what's happ-happen-ing!?"

          The demon only answered with a smirk and closed his hand into a fist. The trembling grew even stronger, and the rough spikes started to retract into the ground. Steve staggered from the loss of support, grimacing and laying a hand on the wall behind him to retain his balance.

          And then the floor crumbled beneath him and he dropped like a stone, heart nearly stopping, "Aaaaahhhhhh!!"

          The soldier's body twisted about in midair, air rushing up passed his face, driving itself into his lungs. It was still pitch-black all around him, he squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn't see a thing. He suddenly recoiled as something smacked him, hard, in the side, driving the breath from him. The young man continued to free-fall, striking invisible spikes of black rock jutting out in the darkness-

          WHAM!

          Steve's body slammed into solid ground, a low crunch sounding from his already-broken shoulder. Pain exploded from his shoulder and seared through every joint in his body. His eyes shot open, the wind driven completely from him. Oh Notch, that had hurt...

          The soldier struggled to fill his lungs with air, feeling as if a heavy blanket were descending on him. He gagged, tasting iron. His right arm was bent awkwardly under him. It had been rebroken, and his other limbs were splayed out against smooth rock.

           Steve finally gasped in a shallow lungful of air, but it wasn't enough. His heartbeat thudded, slowly, in his ears. The urge to sleep drifted over him, and he fought it, focusing on the horrid pain thrumming through his shaking body, the cold stone underneath his face and stomach. It was a losing battle, and Steve succumbed to the pull just as two small, white lights entered his line of sight.

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           The immortal frowned as he leaped the last ten blocks down. The mortal's heartbeat had slowed, and he was lying too still. The being made his way leisurely over to the prone form, nudging him onto his back with the toe of a boot. The demon noticed that the soldier's arm had been rebroken. Hm, a shame really, but nothing he couldn't fix.

          After all, would it not be better to have a prisoner, sharp in health, to toy with, rather than one that just cowered away immediately? The demon grinned, it would be amusing to see how many injuries he could give the man before he passed out.

            As he stretched a hand over the ugly, swollen bruise, the immortal focused his energy, channeling it into the human's healing cells, feeling the bone begin to knit itself back together. Small cracking sounds came from the man's shoulder as it moved, but he remained unconscious. The small cuts and the larger gash over his stomach even began to heal, skin and muscle tissue slithering over the oozing red and slowly repairing the damage.

          The immortal's face remained impassive, even breaking out into a twisted grin as the human's breathing picked up. The being finished and stood, surveying the soldier's reaired body, then backed away and vanished as the man's eyes shot open.

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          The darkness hurt.

          It wrapped around him tightly, crushing him in its cold embrace. Tendrils whisked about his neck, going for his throbbing shoulder, and Steve flinched, trying to bat it away with his good arm.

          The blackness thickened, grabbing his uninjured arm and pulling it out, then slammed into his broken collarbone.

          Steve arched and screamed as the darkness pulled at the bone, drilling into it and trying to tear it from his body. He kicked out at the endless black, but nothing met his flailing limbs. He twisted and cried out again, begging to Notch for it to stop-

          He shot awake, gasping, and clawing at his shoulder as he launched himself upright. The young soldier sat there, panting, as he grasped at his shoulder, feeling no answering twinge of pain. He tried to look down at it, but could see nothing, and had to settle for gingerly feeling it instead.

          His mouth dropped open. The bone felt like it had never been broken, not even a swollen mark gave away its previous condition. Suddenly realizing his stomach or the cuts on his arms weren't burning anymore, he rapidly ran his hands across his arms and torso, still unable to see in the thick darkness. However, his hearing and sense of smell were still there.

          The faint roaring of an underground stream was slightly louder here, as were the plops of drops of water. The sudden screech of a bat made him jump, and he looked about wildly, despite his momentary blindness. The shuffling sounds he made echoed back to him hollowly, indicating he was in a larger space, a cavern. Steve shuddered, he hated caverns, but thankfully, he could not smell or hear any undead. He returned his attention to his now-healed body.

          Blinking from the shock of his discovery, breath still coming in short gasps, Steve let a small, disbelieving laugh force itself out, "W-what...? How?" He pressed his hands to the cool ground, and stood, wobbling a bit as the blood righted itself in his head. His knee didn't ache anymore, and his ankle was pain-free.

          A powerful hand suddenly gripped the back of his neck.

          Steve stiffened, heartbeat accelerating with alarming speed. Now what?

          Hot breath hit the back of his right ear and he yelped and jerked, then stood still as the grip tightened.

           A deep, echoing voice, dark and rumbling, met his ears, and Steve locked up, staring straight ahead with wide eyes, "Hello, mortal."

          Sweat broke out all over Steve's body as he shook. The immortal's pressure of power was now noticeable, as the temperature had dropped. The being must have been holding it back, waiting to surprise him. A cold, sharp point pressed into his back, making the soldier gasp. Steve clenched his jaw, he didn't want his teeth to start chattering, though the demon probably already knew just how downright terrified he was.

          The voice continued, "So nice to see you can stand once again...makes my job that much more fun." At the word 'fun', the sharp point jabbed a little harder into Steve's spine, and he let out a muffled yelp, feeling blood begin to trickle down. The immortal chuckled, "Such a jumpy one, aren't you? Good, good, that will help me get my answers."

          Suddenly, Steve was flung, facedown, on the ground. He let out a shout of pain, then a heavy boot slammed on his back, cutting the cry short, and the blue curve of a pickax appeared, hovering near his left eye. The being's voice lowered to barely above a growl, but the soldier heard the threat pound into him with every syllable, "And if you dare even think of lying to me..." The soldier grimaced as the pick traced his face, the razor edge leaving a tiny, stinging cut from above his eye to under his jaw, "You will wish Notch had never brought you into existence." A slight chuckle followed, "I know ways of keeping you alive, even through pain weak humans aren't even meant to bear."

          The demon paused to let a shudder pass through Steve's frame, "You'll feel every bit of agony until I allow your body to shut down, do I make myself clear, pathetic mortal?"

          Steve tried to speak, but his throat locked up. The pick tapped gently against Steve's jugular, and he took a shaky breath and nodded.

          "Good, then let us get started, shall we?"

           The weight was removed from the man's back, but Steve didn't dare move. A hand grasped the back of his shirt and jerked him up, and he staggered a bit before finding his balance. Steve stood, shoulders hunched, crouched defensively, turning to look behind himself.

          "Don't turn around."

          The human froze, his hand drifting up shakily to trace the cut on his face, before being slowly lowered again.

           It was better to interrogate the mortal from behind, it would elicit more fear, a reaction to an unseen threat. The demon huffed; the human looked like some frightened animal ready to bolt. He truly was a coward, "State your name and rank."

           Steve swallowed, hesitating. The pickax slithered next to his neck, the coldness making him jump, chills breaking out on his arms. He stuttered, "S-Steven...Steven Forest. Foot soldier in the 41st division."

           The pick was pulled away.

          "Place and date of birth."

          Steve took a shuddering breath. There was no harm in telling the being this information, as his home had been destroyed by the demon's early tides of retribution, the soldier was merely wanting why the immortal wished to know, "Haerdawn Village...and I d-don't know when I was born."

           "Keeping information from me does not help you, mortal." The being appeared in the corner of Steve's vision, and it took all his strength not to turn his head. The demon slowly circled him, followed by Steve's blue eyes, and disappeared behind the man, tapping his leg casually with his sharp weapon.

            Steve shivered, "I swear, I have no idea when I was born...but I'm told I look about twenty-two years of age."

          "Hm, that would mean you were born in the year 1300. You could have just told me that."

          Steve nodded, "Yes...b-but I would have been lying..."

           The voice chuckled, "Yes, it would have been lying indeed. Were you exposed to any new plans regarding your commander or your armies' movements?"

           Steve shook his head, "No."

          "I find that hard to believe."

             Steve gulped, "Yes, but I was just a common soldier, I knew nothing until we were told to march and given our formations."

          The being scoffed behind him, "Tch! Useless, aren't you?"

          The soldier clenched his teeth, but said nothing, staring straight ahead.

          "Of course, I did not bring you all the way here to try and gain the upper hand with old Notchy's dirty battle tactics." The demon grinned as Steve's jaw tightened further at the blasphemous way he'd talked about the Creator, "I need information regarding...other things."

          Steve stood quietly, at attention, eyes facing straight ahead, feet planted, shoulders back and loose fists at his sides. He'd dropped the crouched stance as the immortal began to question his rank, though his heart still raced in his chest. It was a habit.

           The immortal began to pace behind the man, kicking small pieces of gravel free, making them skitter away from his boots with a hollow, rattling sound, across the cavern. He smirked as the human flinched at every step he made, "Have you had any contact with the Creator."

           Shaking his head, Steve replied, "No, I have not yet had that honor."

           The being sneered, "Psh! Honor, hah! Don't make me laugh..." he drifted off dangerously.

          Steve felt an explosion of pain in his right ribcage, sending him slamming into the ground, rolling until he hit a smooth wall. He gasped sharply and let out a strangled cry, hugging his arms to his chest, feeling tears begin to fall down his cheeks from the horrid pain. He was sure at least a few ribs were broken. Before he'd fully recovered, he felt fingers tighten around his throat before he was hurled face-forward, into another wall. Pain seared through his head as his cheekbone collided with unforgiving rock. Fingers grasped his hair, flinging him to the ground, but before he could hit it, a knee rose up and slammed into his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. Steve hit the ground on his side, and a boot promptly struck his lower back, sending him rolling again.

          He tumbled over the hardened shale until he slowed and skidded to a stop on his stomach, just as his right arm shot over a cliff, hanging limply. Trying to fight the terrible ache pounding through him, Steve dimly wondered what he'd said wrong.

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          The immortal seethed as he stalked towards the man's prone form. It was good he had not gone over the cliff, it would have been a real nuisance to have to catch him.

          The human just had to know something. He had to, there was some reason the being had not been able to kill him, and the demon was going to get it, even if it was whispered with the human's last dying breaths.

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~ScarOfHerobrine