The Sunless World

This was in 2013, back when Id only played Minecraft for a year. I started  up a new world and spawned in the middle of a water block in a biome I couldn’t really describe. I assumed it was the typical plains biome, but it felt off. The dirt was the generic grass block colour (the same colour as it appears in your inventory when mined with silk touch). There were no flowers or shrubs, just the blocks, and of course the oak trees, which I began to mine. The first thing I noticed really being off was the render distance. It was extremely short, blocks ten blocks away were becoming foggy and everything further than 20 blocks away was downright invisible.
“The render distance could be adjusted this close?” I asked myself. I checked the settings, and set it at a higher value. This did not affect the render at all and blocks still became foggy beyond a close distance. I promptly ignored it and began to work on the typical survival world advancements. By the time night fell, I had constructed a small fortress with a crafting table and a few tools. Unfortunately, I couldn’t venture far yet since I’d lose the place quickly, and I hadn’t turned on my coordinates.
After breaking a few leaf blocks, I was lucky enough to find seeds. I lured a few chickens, and barricaded them in a makeshift enclosure square where I subsequently bred them. During the first few nights, no hostile mobs would spawn, and I took advantage of it, creating a mine within the fortress. Despite what amounted to hours of searching, the only thing I’d mined was cobblestone. No ores, no lava beds, no caves, just stone. I considered generating a new world, but I was curious to find anything else up with this world. A few Minecraft days later, I resurfaced after failing to find any resources. I went to the enclosure to slaughter one chicken but then I realised it. Before I descended the mine, I had bred about ten chickens in the coop. There wasn’t a single one left. They had not despawned however, as every single one of them had been killed. This was proven by the feather and raw chicken drops. As I collected the remains I noticed another item pop up in my hotbar. It was a signed book. Out of curiously, I scrolled until the book was in my hand, and when I opened it there was only one sentence.
“I spared them a worse fate.”
Obviously, being a 10-year old kid, I was deeply unnerved by the statement, and felt the best idea was to get out of this place as soon as possible. My inquisitiveness was persistent however, and I still was curious enough to not delete the world. I left the house, collecting the resources I deemed important. After that, I ran away from the fortress, sprinting into the forest of oak trees. I ran for thousands of blocks, however I couldn’t escape the absurdity. The first thing that grabbed my attention was the water, or the lack thereof. Ever since I spawned in this world, the only source of water was the single block-wide puddle I spawned in. Other than that, I have never seen a single drop of water. Not a sea, not a river, not even those annoying ponds that get in the way of your buildings. I later realised there were no biomes either, it was always the plain grass and oak trees, there was nothing else whatsoever. What perplexed me the most was the mob behaviour. The chickens were normal, however the cows, sheep and pig had a very unnerving demeanour. I had used the small puddle to grow some wheat which I carried with me in case I ran into the larger animals, however, I was not expecting what happened.
The cows, sheep, and pigs resumed their normal business, but I soon began to realise two things. There was an unnaturally high amount of them, as I’d see at least ten every render distance, and more disturbingly, they all faced away from me. I was never able to see their faces, no matter what I did. As I moved sideways, the animals, almost automatically, would turn away from me, as if I was a centre and they always pointed the opposite direction. This begun to confuse me, as to why they behaved like that. If I killed them, they died normally with normal drops however, but when I held wheat in my hand, the cows and sheep wouldn’t even react like they usually should. 
When night fell this time, the first mobs began to spawn. I noticed a zombie, who had been prowling behind the trees. They appeared to be far more intelligent than in normal worlds. Typically, they’d begin a brazen charge at you, mostly unaware of obstacles and other creatures. However this world presented something else. As I observed the zombie from the corner of my screen, it made moves very slowly, hiding behind trees and making its manoeuvre from behind. After a moment of observation, I made my attack. The zombie looked normal, however behaved differently. I ran towards it with my stone sword, yet it made the first move. It was unusually devastated, as I was thrown back about five blocks. I flinched, and when I looked at my health bar, I realised I had three hearts left.
Did that zombie deal seven hearts of damage? 
In a world as confusing and mysterious as this one, losing a game was something I had to avoid at all costs. Unfortunately I couldn’t craft a bow, as there were no spiders. I landed a critical hit with the stone sword, which bear in mind is about 3 and a half hearts of damage. The zombie however, did not make the normal zombie’s hurt noise. Instead, it sounded like a zombie pigman.
“What is wrong with this game?” I said out loud, rhetorically. I continued to land critical hits, but it was particularly tough. It took eight strikes for it to finally die, and upon going down it dropped an iron ingot. I entered a brief moment of excitement, since the lack of ores meant zombies were the only source of iron, and that I could finally upgrade my tools if I survive and kill enough of them. The next few days were odd, however there was nothing else of significance. Soon, I began to realise the number of animals were decreasing, and the number of zombies increased. So far, they were the only hostile mobs I have encountered. I soon discovered building wooden protected was futile, as the zombies broke planks down as if they were doors. I soon resorted to cobblestone fortresses which did seem to hold them off. After killing enough zombies, I was able to craft a full set of iron tools, at leas the important ones. Hoes were useless as there was no water to keep the land tilled, and well, there were no ores for a pickaxe to mine. 
Though I had known something was deeply wrong with this world, I still kept playing from my curiosity. 
I was inactive for a few weeks as I had a few more weeks of studying, and once they were over I soon remembered the world. On a late summer night, I loaded up the world, and kept playing. Nothing of importance happened until the fifty-ninth day. When I went out, every single mob was slaughtered. There was wool, leather, pork chops, beef, and mutton everywhere. The fog had extended too, meaning I could see blocks up to thirty blocks away. As I ran through the world, I noticed the trees began to form a line. I followed that line for a while, and then I saw it. 
Amidst the massacred remains of the elusive animals in this world, I saw a single torch. Behind it was a hill, and when I crossed it. There was a trail of them. I shuddered, but again, my inquisitive nature were the ropes that dragged me. The trail seemed endless. It took about thirty Minecraft days to get there, and nearly dying on multiple occasions. I was disturb by how primitive the world was, it was only grass and oak trees, no weather nor biomes to explore. The zombies began to spawn extremely frequently, and all passive mobs stopped spawning altogether. Not having a source of food, I relied on the remains that still floated in various parts of the world to replenish my depleting bar. Eventually, it led to a generic wooden plank house, looking like a build made by someone who’d played the game for the first time. I had made it. There was a single door, and when I opened it I was welcomed with an extremely dark room. 
Luckily, I could still build furnaces and as a result, smelted the oak wood to make charcoal. Since I used it to craft torches, I had a few on me. I placed it down, and very soon, the room was illuminated. The entirety of it was made of wooden planks, a huge room which was probably a 15x15x10 square. In the middle stood was an item appeared to be an enchanted golden helmet. I say “appears to be” intentionally because when I picked up the item, it was called “the Cap of Redemption.” This was the actual name of the object. When you rename an object, say on an anvil, you get the object’s name in and italic font. This was not the case here, as it was in the exact sam Ed ont as your typical Minecraft item that hasn’t been renamed. It also had a single enchantment on it. 
Smite VI 
I sat for a while looking at the item. I subsequently left the building, and when I walked out to see it was nighttime. By that time zombies were spawning at an unnaturally high rate, basically forcing me to build fortresses as I’d be overwhelmed otherwise. However, what I realised is that the item was extremely effective. It took two strikes to kill a zombie or one critical hit. I tried to wear the item, which surprisingly worked. This caused all of the fog to disappear. It was middays as I saw from the brightness, but when I looked up at the sky, the sun wasn’t there. 
I haven’t played on this computer for years, and thus there wasn’t any significant progress after that.
Category:Creepypasta
Category:Worlds