Black Diamonds

ru:Чёрные алмазы
This story actually happened...
==Part One - Black Diamonds==
Once, a boy lived in a big city, and his older brother and his friends played Minecraft on the network. They had their own server, which they called "HELL". The boy wanted to play with them, but his brother did not allow him, because he was too young, and even put a password on the computer so that the boy could not enter.
Once, when their parents were not at home, his brother's friends came to visit him, and one of them told how on their server, in the depths of one mine, right above the bedrock, he found black diamonds... But he could not get them because even a diamond pickaxe broke with one blow. No one believed him, because there are no black diamonds, but this friend spoke very convincingly, so they decided to go and see if he was lying on the Internet. The boy quietly entered his brother's room and also began to look at the monitor, and the others did not notice him.
They drove a query into Google, and did not find anything because there are no black diamonds. But this friend did not give up until on the thirteenth search page there was a link to the Minecraft Wikipedia page... Cursed black diamonds...
This page could be accessed only by this link and it was impossible to go from other Wikipedia pages, it said that black diamonds can only be obtained with a pickaxe from ordinary diamonds, enchanted with the "Death" spell. This enchantment was opened only if you put six enchantment tables with six books each with special pentagrams. It was necessary to enchant the pickaxe in the central table, exactly at midnight server time. The boy heard this, got scared and screamed, and his brother's friends kicked him out of the room.
He could not overhear anything else, but the next day, when his parents called his brother, he was able to look at his computer, found this article in the bookmarks and began to read on. It turns out that in the ordinary world, black diamonds are like other diamonds, only they have a special icon that is not found anywhere else. And nothing can be assembled from them, no tools. But if you take these diamonds with you to nether, then in your inventory they turn into blocks, from which you can build. If you build a portal of thirteen such blocks in the nether, you can be transported to a special hidden world of Minecraft - Real Hell...
Something else was written there, but the boy did not have time to read further, because his brother came back and kicked him out from behind the computer. The boy asked him to tell more about black diamonds, but his brother got angry and said that he didn't need to know about it anyway, because diamonds can accidentally appear on every 666 server of the game, and this happens no more than once a year, so the boy he won't see them anyway. And they found these diamonds, and tonight they will go to dig and build a portal to real hell. And the brother even changed the password on the computer so that the boy would not interfere with him and his friends.
The next time, the boy saw his brother in the morning when he left the room. He didn’t look at all sleepy and didn’t even say hello to anyone and didn’t say good morning. From that day on, brother always behaved strangely... He did not speak either with the boy or with his parents. Their parents were almost always at work and did not notice it. He no longer watched TV, did not go out with friends, and did not even call anyone. All his free time he sat in his room, closing the door with a key.
This went on for about a week, and then the boy accidentally overheard his mother talking on the phone. Her friend called her and said that something terrible had happened to the son of their mutual friend. She said that lately he has completely stopped going out and played with his stupid computer all the time. When his mother, somehow secretly, quietly approached him from the back to see what he was doing there, it turned out that he was just looking at a black screen, where nothing was even happening. And so he could spend the whole day, and she also said that this boy was taken to the hospital, and his mother told her that they should definitely visit him, because he was a friend of her son. And the boy knew that this was the same friend who first found black diamonds...
Then the boy decided that he should find out what was going on with his brother, so when the whole family went to the hospital, he said that he was not feeling well, so he stayed at home. And when they all left, he immediately went to his brother's room. For a long time he could not turn on the computer until he found a piece of paper under the keyboard, on which a new password was written in red paste - Lucifer. Then he launched Minecraft, and went to the server...
He immediately found himself in complete darkness, and immediately wanted to light the torch, but it turned out that he had no inventory... Then he ran somewhere blind, and it seemed to him that he was running along one of the walls, and he ran for so long, but he was nowhere saw the lights, and it seems that he was turning somewhere, there was always darkness around him, so he was not sure that he was moving somewhere, and not standing still... He was scared, but he decided to run until then, until his whole family gets home. They didn’t seem to be there for a very long time, probably until the very night, because the room was so dark that even the monitor lamps didn’t glow... And then he bumped into someone ...
This someone quietly, drawn out and hopelessly howled, as if the boy's touch had hurt him. The boy brought his face very close to this creature, and was surprised how close he could get closer, as if he had passed through the monitor on the table. It was, of course, very dark, but it seemed to him that he saw his brother, turning green and wandering towards him slowly with a leisurely zombie gait...
The boy was so scared that he could not even move. And when the brother approached him, he pushed him back against the wall of the corridor, the boy raised his clumsy green hands, but the zombies are very slow, so he could not lean and hit the wall. Long, slow howl of pain...
The boy was taken to the hospital, where he is now, along with his brother and his friends. Their computers were burned, but they say that the HELL server is still on the network...
And if you download a special client using a special link, you can go to it... But that's a completely different story...
==Part Two - The Guardian==
A week ago I received a letter from a friend. Text file and some screenshots. He asked to shoot a video by text and post it on the Internet as quickly as possible.
All this time I tried to contact him. I wanted to make sure the story was just a figment of his imagination. It didn't work out for me. He did not answer calls, none of his family or acquaintances knows how to find him.
In any case, I comply with his request. I will read the letter in full...
===Letter===
Max do you remember your idea, Minecraft creepypasta wiki? You've probably read hundreds of these little creepy stories that seem to have actually happened. Dozens of identical sites with a black background with light letters and obscure muddy pictures instead of illustrations. You said that most of them are boring, monotonous, like the sites themselves. Predictable, poorly written, with profuse grammatical errors. Then you wondered why no one has come up with something original yet.
Minecraft is an incredibly popular game. And such stories, horrors are exactly what her audience lacks. But no one even thought to develop this topic. You said that you need one single person, with minimal talent and a drop of unusual ideas, to create content that is not in Russian or English. Then you did nothing to develop your idea, you were always busy with your channel, but, but the idea seemed interesting to me.
No, I don’t think that you are to blame for what has happened in the last months, but if it hadn’t been for this idea... Okay, I hope you will be glad that you were right. The idea turned out to be good. I found guys from my old Internet friends, and together we launched the site. Black background, white letters, muddy pictures. Everything is according to the rules.
At first, we only had translations of English-language stories, and then, our readers began to send stories. The first good one turned out to be about black diamonds from a guy with the nickname Guardian. He even made a video on it, and later wanted to turn it into a whole series based on the work of this guy. But the Guardian did not send anything else.
That's what I told you. I was lying.
A few months after his first story, the Guardian left us another message. This time it was not creepypasta. After the story about diamonds became popular, a section appeared on our forum where we supported the version that everything in this story is true, and we believe in it so much that we even try to somehow find the server "HELL", which according to legend is still in networks. Of course, none of us even allowed such thoughts, we just supported the popular topic as best we could, hoping to attract new visitors to the site and somehow keep the old ones.
But interest in black diamonds was dying out, and communication slowly subsided. Honestly, I completely threw this story out of my head, and would not have remembered it if, having entered the forum one of the late autumn evenings, I had not found a new topic in the "Black Diamonds" section, the only content of which was a link to a free file sharing service...
Of course, I would have thought that it was spam, and some Trojan or SMS blocker was sent out. But the author was the same Guardian. In addition, only moderators were allowed to create topics in this section, and only me or my friends, with whom we created this site, could pin(and this topic was pin).
Now there were two options. First, we could be hacked, gain access to administrator accounts, and there is still a virus in the archive or something like that. The second option is that someone decided to play a joke, revive the old story, and something interesting is waiting for us following the link.
I checked the forum, similar topics or messages did not appear anymore, changed the password to my account and the mail to which it is linked, and then followed the link. The file turned out to be an archive. I downloaded it and opened it with all possible precautions. The archive was packed with a Minecraft client, without viruses and homemade launchers. But with one peculiarity - the single player mode was blocked.
When I chose to play online, a sign appeared - less than four players online. I could do nothing more with the client, and nothing else was required. I decided that this was still a pleasant surprise from our author, apparently someone from the administration helped present it in such a mysterious and unusual way.
It took me only an hour to get all the admins together. There were four of us, a coincidence, right? Here you need to tell about my friends, I could have called them that before, maybe I will continue to call them that, but they have nothing to do with my friends.
We did not share common tastes, except for Iskra, we easily found a common language with her. Didn't spend time playing games together, didn't call up just to chat. We were united by a strange desire to make a collection of scary stories. Is it madness? Then it seemed enough to close our eyes to the shortcomings of everyone. But we were not friends, and what happened to us afterwards did not help us to become them. I reread the last sentences, they sound like I forced myself to communicate with them as if they are disgusting to me.
In fact, my memory plays with me, of course, each of them had a lot of good things, but he doesn't want to remember such things so as not to torment me.
It is not by chance that I speak of my friends in the past tense, they are all dead, and I am absolutely sure of this, I say I killed them. Myself.
We called each other by nicknames, we met on the Internet, and I don't remember their names. Maybe they didn't name them for me, maybe I forgot because they were unnecessary. First came Ìskra, she insisted that we pronounce it, nickname like this, with an emphasis on "I". Like me, she's about 25 and she was busy editing articles from mistakes and typos. She worked from home, kept a small online store of cute things of her own making. I talked to her, and I knew more about her than the others.
Then Gill, he was about eighteen, he did not work, which gave him a lot of free time. He searched for stories and translated them, or wrote them himself. There were bad ones, there were good ones, but they left behind a feeling of some kind of dirt. Children love stories like this.
And Mantaskimal - he was about thirty years old, I think. Disgusting and nasal voice. Like a mosquito squealing at night. Can't bite you, but hums and whines. He was responsible for the server, site engine, and more.
The guys took turns joining my Skype conference. They suspected that I was the author of the prank, and I suspected one of them. We all started that evening in a great mood, maybe my sense of mystery and unknown was passed on to them. Maybe all Minecraft players discover a new and unknown world with this feeling. Maybe they are always overly curious. Maybe that's why this.. This creation originated in Minecraft.
After the four of us got together, we were able to go online, and one single server was opened for us. Of course it was called "HELL".
Max, with you, when ever happened that you cannot explain in any way? What is fashionable to believe only at night, in the dark, when everyone else is asleep? A lot of what happened to me can be checked further, the site to which I link really exists, like the VKontakte community. The people about whom I am writing lived and died, in fact, leaving behind dozens of photos and entries on social media accounts. You can find them if you want.
And if someone from the audience is stupid and lazy enough to consider me insane, not seeing obvious evidence to the contrary, that is his right. Just tell your story...
We went to the server and found ourselves in a desert biome...
==Part Three - Memorium==
We logged into the server and found ourselves in a desert biome. Usually I play at maximum settings, but in this client the range was minimal, so all I saw was fog and sand around. I wanted to go and look around, but it turned out that I could not move a step, moreover, even turn my head. The computer did not respond to mouse movements, the ESC button did not work, and the third person view did not turn on.
I asked the others. The same. And after a second, I lost control of the character. He slowly turned somewhere to the side as if something attracted him there.
Oh, I remember this moment very well. I can see him clearly, as if this is happening right now. The contours of a huge, irregularly shaped building appear very close to us. Stretching in height and width much further than the piece of the world we see. Blocks appear slowly and smoothly, as if they are floating out of the fog.
The bulk is built of obsidian and numerous holes shine in it, as if it were unfinished, or vice versa, already destroyed. It seems to me that I have never seen anything more majestic, and more strange. It seems that this building attracts my eyes like a huge black magnet. It seems that the day is darker next to her, it seems that she is drawing in the sun's rays. It seems that each hole is a corridor going into darkness, absolute blackness...
It seems that I am going inside. Maybe I even wander there in the dark until I find something important. Something special. But I don't have time to focus on this feeling. Some of us stirred, took a few steps towards the structure. This dispelled the dark illusion. Only after that it dawned on me that it was possible to move.
We got closer, and I noticed an NPC standing very close to the wall. He was wearing dark armor that merged with the obsidian background, so I hadn't seen him before. This NPC did not move, did not turn in my direction. Above his head was written the name... "Guardian"...
When I tried to speak to him, a text sign appeared inviting us all to do something like a quest. The Guardian did not speak to anyone but me. Therefore, I had to read the text out loud. The phrases were composed in a strange way, as if poorly translated from a foreign language.
Somewhere there were not enough prepositions, somewhere on the contrary, a poorly delivered ending. Some sentences did not end, or vice versa, began in the middle.
"Welcome to HELL, Serve Memorium. Serving by completing the assignment. Rewarding, they choose themselves. The punishment leaves the Memorium. 5 2 4 ministers."
Below I saw the "accept" button, at that moment no one even thought that perhaps they should not press it. We were possessed by a feeling of absolute admiration, now we were at the center of a new scary story. Of course, everyone agreed to carry out the Guardian's mission.
I pressed a key, and at the same time, I heard a dull thud coming from the very depths of the Memorium. This is what we already called this strange structure, the name suited it. A dull sound, similar to the sound of a bell, but without an echo. We went inside...
The Memorial greeted us with a labyrinth of semi-dark corridors. No light sources, just the sun's rays passing through an incredibly complex system of passages and wells. Through and through, through the entire Memorium. Some corridors went down into the ground. Others, on the contrary, steeply climbed up. There were those that went into the distance, but we could not see exactly where they lead. There were those that ended in dead ends, none of them was direct. And not a single wall was even. In the dim gray light, even the corners of the blocks seemed to be curved here.
We walked along a narrow bridge over an abyss going somewhere into the fog. And they climbed a barely noticeable staircase that rose from the wall, until they saw wide quartz steps, whiteness contrasting brightly with obsidian. They led into a room made entirely of quartz. Then we called it The White Room. Inside, it is always empty, except for the marble cubes, strangely, randomly arranged on the walls and ceiling and the field. It seems that they are motionless, but if you look away for a second, or think about something, lose concentration, and the picture seems to be whipped. It seems that one, or several, or maybe all of them are no longer in their place. And the head hurts, splits into pieces when you try to remember how they stood before.
We spent about a minute in it, just stood staring at one point in silence. In this room, there was something special, a strange sensation. When we left, I spoke on purpose, not remembering what and what. Only so as not to be silent. Others seem to have done the same.
While we were in the room, 524 obsidian blocks appeared in everyone's inventory. In case even three of us refused to complete the tasks of the Memorium, the latter could still do everything himself. But of course, no one refused...
We walked along the corridors together, not leaving each other. Sometimes, someone ran ahead, or lagged slightly behind, looking around a particularly interesting room. But no one wanted to stray too far from the others, so that we lost sight of him. I thought I would force everything here, just to quickly complete the quest and see what happens next. But some of the corridors, for all their madness and irregularity, looked complete, and exactly as they should be. Some of the branches took us to huge dark rooms in which I knew I needed to add something here and build something there. I knew exactly which blocks needed to be removed in order to illuminate everything exactly as it should be. As if we ourselves were the architects who made the plan for this insane structure.
When everything was over, we moved on. We always knew where to go, and didn't stop for a second, someone was always talking. Even if it was a strange and uncertain monologue. We talked about the server, and for some reason the absolutely obvious thing that this is someone's joke seemed like a silly and inappropriate joke here. We talked about black obsidian, which causes disgust and mild nausea. About the White Room, in which the air is electrified, they talked about what direction we would not go, and for how long, the Memorium does not end.
We did the job. Some kind of inscription flashed in the chat, too quickly for me to read it. Dully, without an echo, the gong struck. The screen went dark, and the game was closed... Skype crashed, cutting me off in mid-sentence, but I did not notice it.
My head was splitting into pieces, my eyes were burning with unbearable pain, I had to bend forward to the monitor to see something. I screamed from a sharp pain in my lower back.
It turned out that I spent 6 hours in the game, without a single movement. I don't think I even blinked...
File:Memorium.png|Approximate appearance of the Memorium...
==Part Four - The White Room==
I looked at the world through the fog, my head slowly stirred, confused thoughts. More severe than the dull, throbbing pain, the throat was dry and a sour lump of nausea rose up from the stomach. The eyes were scorching, and they were watering so that I could hardly see anything. I had to bend forward to the monitor to see how much time I spent in Memorium.
My back gave off a sharp flash of pain. The clock said that I spent 6 hours in the game, all this time I did not even move, I think I did not even blink.
All I wanted was to get to bed and sleep. Several meters, ten steps. My legs were numb so that I could not feel them. I turned off the monitor, the bright light irritated my eyes, and began to flex my muscles. The first needles of pain began to be soldered into the body.
In the darkness, I felt worse, my head was spinning more, the room swayed, blurred, the walls crawled up. The White Room appeared in flashes before my eyes, rapidly and constantly changing.
I tried to get up, my left leg buckled, and I fell to the floor, hitting the table with my hand. For a second I rejoiced at the unconscious wave that was rolling over me. Then I lost consciousness...
In my dream, I returned to Memorium, the pain did not stop, and the dizziness did not go away. I could walk very slowly, bumping into walls. The obsidian was rough and hot, scorching, and scratching bare feet. The air is stuffy, still, smelling of electricity. He pinched his skin, was terribly thirsty.
Each step was harder, but I didn’t stop as I climbed the steps to the White Room. I knew that I needed to get into it, and that I could not get out until I found something important. I lost it there, and I can't leave until I find it, until I remember what it was... Something very important to me. What is more important to me now? I just can't remember...
Maybe... No... did I drop the money? Rent, credit, work, unstable and unreliable, from which even less beloved. How much I need to buy, how much I wanted, but now I am looking for it. Why am I so unlucky? They must be around here somewhere. I've never used a wallet, they must be a bundle around here somewhere. Maybe in this corner, maybe I didn't see her there.
There must be many, it would be nice to find many. How much have I lost? No, I don’t see, you need to check again more carefully and slowly, and again, they should definitely be here somewhere, they should be!
I woke up…
After the insanely realistic dream, I did not feel rested. The headache subsided slightly, the nausea and pain in the eyes disappeared, and they were replaced by an unpleasant feeling of high temperature. I got sick, but I definitely could not afford it.
Everything was not as bad as it seemed to me in my dream, but I definitely did not need any problems at work... I got dressed, went out into the street heading for the nearest pharmacy, it was a dirty gray winter around, it was snowing. I had to look under my feet as the slush was kneading the boots. I was afraid that if I started turning my head around, dizziness would return.
I bought antipyretics, pain relievers, and some other pills. And somewhere halfway back, I noticed the stairs going up. I almost stumbled... A neat white staircase led to a rectangular opening without a door...
Never noticed her before, although every day, I walk this road to the metro. I looked around, it was quiet and deserted, snow was falling slowly. Maybe my fever intensified, turning into a ague? The walk had a bad effect on my well-being, but it seemed to me that dry hot air blew on me from above, from there... The air of the desert...
Of course this is stupid, but I wanted to see what was there. And I climbed the steps...
After the stairs, a dilapidated hall, in the middle of renovation or reconstruction. It is dark and gray inside, the light falls only through the doorway, barely snatching out of the darkness. Numerous beams and floors. Some are leaning against the walls, others are upright. Everything is covered with gray, and construction dust...
I squeeze between two inclined beams, bend, crawl through the window frame. And I notice something on the floor.. Something colored, also sprinkled with dust, but because of the grayness around it, it seems bright. I sit down, take a closer look...
Five thousandth bills lie on the floor. I pick them up, fumble with my hands, plunge my fingers into a thick layer of gray mud. I pull out more, more, turn in a circle, a few more under my boots, convulsively, afraid of losing them, I push them into my pockets, leaving dirty stripes on my jeans. I walk, crawl on all fours around the hall, checking every centimeter.
Then again, and again, I don't find anything else. I get up abruptly, and it seems that everything around has shifted, changed its location. For a few seconds I realize that I am still dreaming... I am dreaming of the White Room. Then, this feeling goes away. When I go back out I have to squeeze and bend. The exit path does not block anything. I think that the eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, and the previously unseen path has become easily visible. But I don’t believe it myself.
I woke up in bed with the absolute certainty that I had a dream. My head no longer hurt, but I got up with great difficulty, my body barely obeyed.
The first thing I noticed was a strange smell. The smell of old books in my room. Then, grains of dust flying in the air, and only after that I sleep in my clothes soiled in mud. I left the bedroom and went to the mirror.
I looked terrible, sleet mixed with dust covering me from head to toe. And turned it into dirt, ingrained in skin and hair. Then I had to cut them off. The face was sunken, the cheeks were sunken, covered with stubble. How much time has passed? I rummaged in my pocket, taking out my phone. Several dirty lumps of paper with sole marks fell to the floor. I didn't pay attention. The phone told me that I had slept for more than a day. With a sudden fit of thirst, I rushed to the bathroom, turned on the tap and crouched down to it. After getting drunk, I came to my senses a little. I discovered that I am still clenching one of the wads of paper in my fist. Unfolded it, and washed it under water. I did not dream, there were more than four tens of five thousand pieces of paper in the pockets of my jacket and pants...
File:The White Room.png|This is how the White Room looks like (In Minecraft)
Category:Creepypasta
Category:Servers
Category:KiriLLAdMiN253
Category:Long Pastas
Category:Versions
Category:Supernatural