And the Universe Said I Hate You

Gray's body lay dead in a pile of blood and puss, and it did not help that the stench of rot was already beginning to bloom like sweet perfume wafting on the humid air. The flies buzzed around his head, their tiny legs scratching at the open wounds that gaped like hungry mouths. I kneeled over and threw up at the sight.
In the centre of it all, a small, wooden sign stood with its message inscribed on scrawled, black letters: "GRAY’S END." The others and I looked at it briefly before it plopped to the floor. The explosion had hurled down the makeshift outpost and before long, we knew we had to go.
A healing potion dropped from the sky like a gift from the Gods, and Grey was slowly back. The group rushed to help him stand as a chunk of his skull had just been blasted out. There was no trace of it, it was just gone. I was amazed at how he could even stand. “Gray? Gray!” Kyle screamed at him as he desperately searched for his Golden Apple. “Hold- hold him still!”
Like an animal, Gray had begun to croak like a monkey, squeak like a pig, and crawl away like a spider. I looked up at the sky. The player left no footprints in the dirt, no discarded tools, no whispers of their passage, or — considering those commands — no special blocks. “He’s in pain!” yelled David. “He’s in pain, don’t give it to him! You think he wants to live with a hole inside his head?!”
“Well, what do you want me to do?! Leave him to die?!”
“David—”
“You want me to do that?!”
The group fell silent. The only thing making the noises was Gray himself. But then again, he could barely speak now that a chunk of his head was gone. I gulped, knowing that we would need to carry out our tradition again. 
David looked at Gray and cursed under his breath. He got up, spat, and headed back to the remains of the campfire.
Kyle motioned for me to do the "honors." I nodded, aimed with the crossbow and fired. And just like that, Gray was gone. We took his body, buried it, and ran away. I packed all the food I could find and followed them. The silence of the forest pressed down on us like a heavy blanket of guilt. For 100 years, we were killing our own kind. And I was afraid we would be doing it forever.
Forever.
I hated that word.
----
The next morning we woke up to a gnash of teeth and creepers. There was a rupture of bones and coughed up blood streaming from our eyes. I was one of the lucky ones, the ones who couldn’t fight the mobs — the ones who were unqualified. I felt terrible at myself for not being physically well-built, but again, if I was fighting them, I would have probably died.
We skipped breakfast and decided to set camp in the mountains, where we killed a few rabbits. In a way, I was relieved that not many of us remained. It was messed up, but in the olden days, there would usually be riots. It's not like we weren't swarming over the soup-kitchen, but still.
"Two bowls?" yelled the chef. "We'll run out!"
"For my friend!" argued the pillager. "He can't walk! Take a look at him! Think he can run all the way here?! You're lucky all you do is cook!"
The chef shook his head and gave him the food. Another pair of pillagers took his place. I sat down near a rock and wolfed down my food like a dog. Jimmy — one of the most respectable hunters here, still in his late 40s — sat by me and did the same. When he realized I was still hungry, he handed me two spoonfuls of his stew.
I looked at him, confused. "Hey—"
"Eat," he said. "We had a shortage of food today. That was my fault."
"What? No, no!"
"It is." He continued eating like nothing happened. "We'll have to wait for a while before we actually encounter some more animals."
I reluctantly finished my stew and thanked him. "How long do you reckon we'll come across good food? Vegetables, at least?"
"Can't say. Usually Mark would be here to take a guess with his mathematical logistics. Dead." Indeed, Mark was perhaps the smartest out of all of us. Like me, he wasn't well-built for battle, but he was a good strategist. We had urged him to maybe try his hand in a math lecture, but he claimed he wasn't a good teacher.
We got up, shook hands, and went our opposite ways.
----
That night, I was on farming duty. A guard had accompanied me to the fields and I was already plowing. The guard beside me normally whistled and hummed, even eating his leftovers. I plucked the seeds into the soil and wiped my forehead with my hand. "All good?" asked the guard. I nodded.
"Think there's any more work?" I asked.
"All clear."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Not many people to feed anymore."
He turned away solemnly and led me back to my room. "Not many people to feed anymore," I murmured to myself. I sat near the wall of my bed. If you could even call it one, anyway. If anything, it was just a pile of rocks to me. Or just one singular nail waiting to be slept on. Either way, it hurt.
And I promised to myself I wouldn't sleep on it again.
----
The following morning, we finally spotted some other signs of life. Not only were there chickens, but there was an entire village, too. We raided it, stole their items, and bashed their heads against the rocks. I sat by and watched as babies began pleading for their lives and calling out to their parents.
When we were done, we ate like animals. We roasted chickens, apples, and all sorts of meat. We had never thought about living in a village before, but with the current state we were in, we decided it was the best option on the table. All of a sudden, we all jolted up, got back to business, and began rebuilding our new base.
If the player wanted a war, they'd get one. 
----
The next morning, the sun rose like a giant coin the sky as I continued my job. The guard beside me hadn't slept like I did. He was the same one who guarded me the day before. I supposed they were running low.
But it wasn't the sun that caught my eye. It was the water. The river that flowed through the village was now a churning, frothing mass. A wall of water was rising with its crest topped with a swirling vortex of dark, menacing figures.
Drowned. Their faces contorted in a grotesque mockery of life, their skin pale and slimy. The player had created a tsunami.
And then, before we could react, a trident was thrown from the waves and through the guard's skull with a sickening crunch. The force of the impact flung him back, his body crumpling against the earth, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. The trident remained embedded in his head.
I screamed and scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. "The Drowned!" I yelled, my voice hoarse with fear. "They're here! They're above land!"
At this, two of the guards laying dormant outside a house lifted their heads, eyes widening at the sight of the tsunami. They cursed me onwards and took aim. I dared myself not to look as their screams seemed to become engulfed in the water. Before I knew it, all of us were running, trying to find a safe place to hide. People knocked on doors, begging to be let in, while some decided to flee into the forest.
I called for help as I was pulled under.
----
"Keith! Hey! Wake up!"
What?
"Wake up!"
Is someone calling out to me?
I slowly opened my eyes and was amazed to find myself still breathing. I was trapped under some rubble, but it seemed that that problem had already been solved. Standing above me was Jimmy and the chef working at the soup-kitchen. They had gone hunting, they explained, and were far enough to get a head start once they saw the tsunami.
They helped me up and I pounded my fists against the dirt. I punched it again and again until my hands started to become sore and numb. "Why?!" I hollered to the sky. "Why us?! Why not somebody else?!" Despite being one of the bravest people I've ever met in my life, Jimmy backed away at my outburst. "It's not fair!" I cried. "It's not fair!"
I buried my head in the palm of my hands and kneeled down, seeming to have lost it all. "Please. Please, if- if there's a God out there, help us! Help us, please! I don't- I don't want to die! I don't wanna live like this any longer!" I sobbed to myself. What once was a hundred of us had now only become three.
I continued crying as they helped me up.
Again, we were moving.
And again, we walked.
Again, we travelled.
Again, we were hurt.
Again, we were injured.
And forever — until we finally accepted our fate — we were living in a cycle of never-ending pain. Forever, and ever.
----
Hello?
Is anyone there?
I'm not- not sure anymore.
...
I've been talking to myself, haven't I? 
Ha.
...
They died. Jimmy and the chef.
We... We ate each other. 
We were hungry.
I was the only one left.
...
I can hear them. I can hear the player fighting the dragon and winning every single time. They hop into the portal and they listen. They listen to the poems of the universe. Of it saying it loves them. But no. Not for me or for anyone else.
For the player, the universe said I love you. Like a sweet mother rocking their child. For us, it was a completely different story.
And the universe said, "I hate you."