My Minecraft Story (Mode)

So, since we don't have any idea what to expect from the Story Mode, I figured I'd share my own story. Now, before you write this off as lame fanfic, read the prologue, it lays the groundwork for the untold story, and gives the whole thing a dark, dystopian, background. if you pay attention, you'll also notice many nods to gameplay elements. anyways, enough talk, let me know what you think!

Prologue

When the resources ran out, I, like many others became a New-Age Colonist. By the dozens we piled onto ships, leaving all that we'd ever known behind us. We would leave desperate, and with only trace hints of hope.

When the time came to fight for the planet's remaining ores and minerals it was mostly a battle between corporation and government figureheads. There was a lot of name-calling and finger pointing, but in reality, we all knew who was to blame: it could only be ourselves. It was easy to ignore at first, and for most it was merely a minor inconvenience. New cars became more and more rare, so maintaining your current car became big business. Mass transit stations increasingly became elbow to elbow until the point where subways and bus stations had to have stationed armed guards to prevent a full on riot. For some, this became a new type of reluctant utopia. If you didn't mind staring down the barrel of a fully automatic rifle on your way to work; if you trusted your government to stifle man's inherent animal instincts survival and to always have your best interest at heart, or if you particularly enjoyed the stolen moments of bliss from being pressed against a young woman's ample rack, these were your golden years. But everyone saw it: we were on the brink of a full collapse. A domino effect that only needed one slight nudge to set the whole thing in motion. But we didn't get a nudge, or even an aggravated shove... We got a Freight Train dropkick to the face... We got a complete food and water embargo. Placed on us by our own government.

All the government experts had foreseen the shortage coming for a year leading up to the day that became known as Day Negative One. It began as a Media joke, stating that we had reverted our society to a day before it even began. The government began stockpiling all the food and water it could gather into newly constructed camps. Monolithic fortresses where the government gathered only the people it deemed the most necessary. It was no longer good enough to be good at your craft, you had to be the TOP. And even if you were the top civil engineer, astrophysicist, biologist or whatever your chosen path was, you had to hope that the government hadn't already built a long term plan in your field. You had to pray that they knew enough about you to know they needed you, but not enough to know that they could take what they needed and leave you on the outside of the walls. The government had lost all sense of it's duty, of the people it served. It too became a scared animal fighting desperately with survivalist instincts, bearing it's fully automatic teeth at whoever challenged it. Day Negative Zero. A joke played on the people, a sensationalist headline. A targeted attack to make those outside the walls feel desperate enough to destroy each other, clearing the path for a new future. The Day One Movement.

But what began as a media tagline took on it's own life. People saw it as a challenge. They sought to rebuild and start again. And contrary to what the Movement would have predicted, the people banded together. They sought out these government fortresses, thousands gathered whatever resources they could and began piling dirt, rock, mud, concrete. Whatever could be gathered and buried The Movement under untold tons of earth. Their salvation was to become their Tomb. A comfortable sarcophagus for them to rot in until their resources began to run out. Their fortresses became microcosms of the world it tried to save itself from. And no one outside of the walls felt any pity. No one would answer or hear their screams as they tore each other apart beneath newly formed hills. The mounds were built and left with no celebration, no affair was made. We all just walked off. And no one talked about The Tombs or The Movement. The land around us was dead. Our people thirsty and starving. The "best" of our minds buried for all eternity. But there was a new sense of pride and duty in all of our hearts. This was our time. This was our Day One.

Part 1
Chapter 1: New Lands

"Slow down!" A voice boomed from the front of our boat. Being a miner, I was no nautical expert, but I could tell that we were approaching the land mass ahead of us way too quickly. The sheer cliff faces and golden beaches came barreling at us, we all knew that impact was coming. "SLOW DOWN!" the voice repeated louder, as though the reason for this imminent impact was because we couldn't hear him well enough. I counted to myself... "3... (remember to go limp) 2... (hold your breath) 1... (now JUMP!)." Even beneath the waves I could hear the sickening crack of boat and bone on the rocks. I washed up onto the nearby shore and choked water out of my lungs. Finally managing to get myself to my feet I took in the scene around me. Of our crew of over two dozen, at least half lay dead, and half of the remaining crew lay mortally wounded. That left about 6 of us able-bodied enough to gather the dead and comfort the dying. A small nearby cave provided us a little sense of security in these unknown lands, but night was quickly closing in, and we needed to secure a shelter, at least for the night. Leaving one to tend to the needs of the injured, the remaining five of us headed to the crash site and gathered what wreckage we could, but the damage was substantial and no safety from the night would be offered by these measly scraps. Defeated again. We sat at the wreckage, each of us waiting for the other to offer our salvation. Throwing what wood we did gather into a pile, a piece snagged my damp clothing, hanging on by a sharp edge. Like Newton's Apple, this was my moment of inspiration. I looked at the shape that had fortuitously clung to me. Shaped like the most basic tool of my trade, I was holding a makeshift pickaxe.
"We need to build tools." I commanded. Whether out of respect for my ability to take charge, or just not knowing what else to do, they listened. I took my new pick over to nearby vein of rock and began chipping away. One man began chipping one rock against another, sharpening an edge replace my wooden one. Now more effectively able to break the rocks around me, we soon had a nice pile of rocks in front of us, and with night now here, it was none too soon. We gathered every last rock and built a wall to block off the cave entrance. Leaving only a small hole for moonlight to pour in through, we cautiously gathered together against the back wall, man and woman alike, naked bodies huddled together for warmth and prayed that whatever was out there wasn't going to come knocking on our door. As I fought to keep my eyes open, fatigue eventually won over, and I drifted off to sleep. But somewhere out there, in the depths of this new land, or in the depths of my mind, I could almost swear I heard a moaning from beneath the earth, a vaguely familiar yet altogether inhuman sound. Yeah, that had to be a dream...

Chapter 2: Morning… and Mourning.
After a night of cautious sleep, I awoke to the sound my nightmares had been about: The cobblestone wall, our first and only line of defense was being picked apart, stone by stone. There was only one beam of sunlight shining through the hole, and it shone directly in my face, blinding me to all but the silhouette centered neatly in the hole. My mind raced to put together the thoughts, but my body had already sprung into action. The pick was in my hand and swung blindly at the shadowy figure before I could even guess what or where it was. The pickaxe swung wildly and crashed into the wall as the image disappeared from the light. Did I imagine it? Was I dreaming? The new hole offered our cave more light, and I turned around to look for something to make sense of. The sounds had awaken the remaining crew of entangled bodies, all of them struggling with their confusion at wakening to an unknown panic. All, save for one girl, pressed against the wall in the furthest corner of the cave, wide eyed and shaking with fear.

“I… I j-j-just wa-wanted some f-f-food.” she choked out in short panicked breaths. It struck me then, she was the demon I had fought. A girl, no older than 17, and I nearly killed her in a survivalist fury. I through the axe down and crashed to the floor. What had we become? What had I become? One close call and I’m already reverting to my animalistic state? I wouldn’t let nature reclaim me. We were going to survive this, not as animals, but as men.

That day, we allowed, or even forced, some humanity back into our lives. The night before was wrought with confusion and fear, and we hadn’t even took the time to mourn or even notice the souls we’d lost. But today, sitting in the morning sun, we were offered a moment of peace and reflection. The pile of dead outside our cave were now layed out individually. The girl that I had accosted earlier was kneeling beside the body of an older man, presumably her father. She was surprisingly stoic, perhaps a testament to the shock, or maybe something altogether more spiritual. Regardless, I was impressed with her demeanor, and left her to grieve.

Of the remaining corpses, only one had a mourner nearby, saying his farewells. The corpse was a youngish man, I’d guess in his mid-twenties. The man hovering over the body appeared to be of similar age and was sobbing uncontrollably. Again, I figured this trip through grief was one he’d be better off making alone, though it may just have been me justifying the distance I was keeping. I had no loved ones, no family to speak of. None of these bodies were mine, or anyone else’s apparently. Nobody attended to the remaining four cadavers, and in their tragic aloneness, as their bodies rotted on the sand, I suddenly didn’t feel so alone.

As the girl began digging a grave for her corpse, I decided to do the same. I began to dig one large grave for the four unclaimed, unnamed souls that I had taken on as my post-mortem friends, climbing down the four foot hole I had single handedly managed to clear for them. I continued digging, settling on the standard six foot rule of the world we left behind. Swing after swing, my axe carved away at the dirt beneath me. Suddenly I felt a rush of dirt around my foot, and felt myself sinking in to an unknown void. I swung my axe at the edge of the hole, hoping to catch something, then a loud thud echoed through unseen chasms. I looked down and saw no evidence of the dirt in the dark beneath me and felt my grip slipping.

“Shit.” I thought to myself. I had forgotten an important rule of my craft…

Never Dig Down.

Chapter 3: Never Dig Down
I opened my eyes and fought with the darkness; opened my mouth and fought for air. Beneath my hands I felt cold, soft dirt. The only light was coming from the hole I had dug, which was now, by my guess, around fifteen feet above me. My eyes struggled to focus on the opening, and eventually made out the figures of the rest of the survivors, staring down at me, confused. First at my survival and second at what they should do next.

My axe laid next to me, apparently having broke free of the loose dirt shortly after I'd fallen. I picked it up and called out weakly "Someone wanna help me out?" I stood in the lone beam of light, staring up at them, too terrified about what may lie in the darkness. Any step could prove to be another drop in nothingness.

There was some inaudible murmur between the surface group members, and I stood helplessly in the light, neck arched back just to see the group I could no longer hear. After some time one of them called back down to me.
"We're gonna try to build a ladder. We'll need a few hours though."

The words felt more like a death sentence than a promise of help. For all I knew this hole stretched for miles in every direction, but I was imprisoned in a cell of light and fear. Hoping to gain some sense of my surroundings, I swung my pickaxe blindly into the darkness. Inching closer to the edge of the light I held my axe out and walked the perimeter. I touched nothing on all sides. Defeated, I sat back on dirt pile and kicked a rock at my feet. In a moment that felt more like embarrassment than discovery, I realized what I should've done all along.

I dug through the dirt pile that broke my fall and pulled out any rock bigger than a golf ball. Gathering at least a dozen or so, I threw one in each direction, spinning clockwise after each toss. Wherever the closest one hit, I'd walk that to that wall and finally break free of the light. I located the nearest wall and slowly walked forward into the darkness, arm outstretched and heart racing. Every step felt like I was cheating death, every heartbeat pounding with the knowledge that it could be the last.

My fingers finally touched soft dirt and I knew I was safe. I turned and looked at the light that had been my home for the past hour or so. Less than five feet away. Not knowing whether to feel triumphant or cowardly, I decided that the two aren't mutually exclusive, and I should be proud of that five feet, and in an almost simultaneous decision, I figured that nobody up top would have to know of my five foot trek through hell.

While I waited for the ladder, I decided to gather some more tool worthy stones, and blindly dug my way through dirt in front of me. Handful after handful of dirt proved to be useless, turning up nothing by hard dirt chunks that cracked under even the smallest amount of pressure. But the dirt was getting warmer. Not hot, just.... warm. My nails cut through the dirt until they stopped on solid stone. My palm pressed against the rock, and I could feel the warmth emanating from it.

Intrigued, I dug with a new passion, eager to discover what lay behind all that dirt. I felt no more dirt, but couldn't see the mysterious stone in front of me. It would be easier to look at in the daylight, so I grabbed my axe and attempted to break a piece off, but my axe chipped apart with every swing. Still, I had to know, so I continued until just a small piece finally snapped off the rock and lit the room with a faint red tone. It wasn't bright, but just bright enough that I could make out the room before me, the red pouring out around the bright white center in the way I'd imagine the Devil's eye to look. At my feet was something that I hadn't seen before, a dozen or so mushrooms. A welcome sight since we hadn't had the opportunity to look for food yet. I picked up as many as I could carry in my arms, and was soon after rewarded with the light thump of a makeshift ladder sliding down the hole onto the dirt pile. Digging the ends in deep into the dirt, and then surrounding them with the gathered stones, I began my triumphant march up the ladder, armful of mushrooms in tow. Evening was approaching, but we had enough time to sit around, talk to each other for the first time and eat a meal less disgusting than it sounds. By the end of dinner, we were actually laughing and joking, mostly at the expense of me and the sound I made as I fell.

It was a much needed break in the tension, and for once it seemed like we might be getting the upper hand here. We walled the cave back up and laid down for the night. Everyone else had fallen asleep as I stared out the lone hole, gazing at the stars. Laying my head down for the final time that night, things finally felt all right, and I'd entirely forgotten about that moan from the night before.

Comments

  • edited March 2015

    The story seems good for the most part the only problem is it does not really have the minecraft vibe to it

  • yeah, i sorta avoided the happy-go-lucky vibe of the game and instead focused on what is obviously a darker story being told. a land of zombies, skeletons, monsters and buried cities... there's something unspokenly (new word!) sinister about the game that we just take for granted because of the playful aesthetic. glad you read it, i wasn't about to do a TL;DR for a short story haha.

    Lehfeels posted: »

    The story seems good for the most part the only problem is it does not really have the minecraft vibe to it

  • i have not read it yet but im gonna start reading it now i have only read a tiny piece of the start so ill get into it right now and give u my full opinion on it

    yeah, i sorta avoided the happy-go-lucky vibe of the game and instead focused on what is obviously a darker story being told. a land of zomb

  • good story bud!

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