A Star is Born

## Author

Jinx

***A Star is Born*** was a book written by Jinx during Dragonhollow's Fifth Era.

The tale told of the narrator's worst fears playing out during a brutal siege on their cabin in the woods.

Jinx was partially inspired by Terry's own dark story *Through the Eyes of My Enemy*.

# Content

Darkness is something many fear, and many love. I am among those who fear. In a forest with trees higher than my simple wooden cabin, the darkness is always close. In the shadow of an immense oak thrown across my door, in the gaping hole of a cave, beckoning me closer, to my doom. But the night is worst of all.

The sun was setting, and I watched it from my small window. Eventually the trees swallowed it, and the darkness began.

A hand shot out of the ground from beneath a tree, clawing at the earth, trying to get out. It was rotten and bloated. The zombies were coming.

The bones of the trees quivered on the ground, vibrating towards each other like they were magnetized. The skeletons were out to play.

Leaves swirled in the sinister breeze and formed odd shapes. They were human by no means, for they had no arms, miniature legs and black, hollow eyes, which were formed by an absence of leaves. The creepers were everywhere.

The monsters all gathered in an army, scattered ranks gaining on my cabin. I drew away from my window, terror in my eyes. Would this be the night they broke in?

Most nights, the creatures launched an attack on me. I would huddle on my bed, hands clamped over my ears. I know that one day they will make it in. I can only hope it won't be this day.

The pounding on my door indicates the campaign has begun. I backed away from my window, afraid to face the horrible creatures. I tripped over my bed and fell backwards onto it, drawing my knees up tight to my chest. I couldn't sleep like this. The terror of the monsters outside my door, groaning and hissing as they threw themselves at the door, would be too much. Sleep would never arrive to someone with fear running through their veins.

A sharp crack echoed in my ears, and my head snapped around to glance fearfully at the door. A zombie had managed to shove its fingers through a crack. The grey fingers were twisting out in all different directions, the force of getting them through the door snapping the bones into pieces. I nearly screamed out, my heart pounding, but managed to withhold it, letting only a small whimper free. If they heard me scream, it would invigorate them. The victim, a helpless mortal, and they were terrified. It would excite them, cause them to use more force against the door, more speed.

I knew right then that I was dead. The zombie had pulled its broken hand out, and a skeleton shoved its thin fingers in, ripping the wood away chip by chip.

I sat, frozen, hyperventilating, holding myself. I was going to die.

I had no armour to speak of, and only stone tools. I couldn't fight back against as many as were gathered.

A creeper pressed its eye against the hole in the door once the skeleton moved away. It saw me, and moved away, but through the crack I could see its hollow mouth curve into a sadistic grin.

The creeper pressed itself up against the door, covering the crack. I let out another whimper. I knew what was coming next.

The creeper began to hiss and tick, the leaves forming its body pulsating. My shoulders shook, and silent tears rolled down my face.

The creeper exploded, taking most of my door along with it, charring the door frame and sending cracks zig-zagging across my window. The zombies outside instantly began to approach, stepping through my doorway, their earth-encrusted shoes moving slowly, as if made of lead. The skeletons hung back, holding bows with sharp flint arrows, ready to fire on me.

The twang of a bowstring indicated the skeletons had fired. Many hit their zombie companions, but a few slithered between the zombie ranks and embedded themselves in the wall that my back was pressed against. One even hit my ear, and I screamed, knowing it was pointless to stay quiet now.

One late arrow shot through the zombies and hit my leg, and instantly fire raced up my left leg, pain beyond anything I had known prior. A scream tore through my throat, as I grasped the arrow. Blood ran freely from the wound and covered my hands.

The ruby blood seemed like a drug to the zombies, as they quickened their pace, arms outstretched to reach for me. Tears ran down my face as I desperately pushed myself away from the zombies, into the corner of my room.

It was to no avail.

A tall, black creature appeared, with glowing violet eyes. Its mouth was wide, as if to gulp me up, and the sound of static combined with metal-on-metal made me clasp my ears tightly.

The enderman wove its arms around me, and for one foolish moment I thought it was going to save me. Instead, it brought me outside of my cabin. It dumped me on the grass, and instead of struggling, running, I simply lay there, accepting my fate.

I knew I was going to die. I was going to the other side.

I was shocked back to reality as a pain triple the arrow wound shook my body.

A zombie had knelt beside me and had gripped my arm, tearing chunks of flesh away. Another zombie crouched beside me, and with its hands tore open my stomach, ripping out intestines.

I felt myself slipping away. My blood was pouring out onto the grass, staining it with my sorrow. A third zombie was gnawing on my leg, tearing away the material to reach my soft skin.

It didn't matter anymore. I felt none of it.

I felt myself disconnect from my body, my mind float away. It was an odd sensation, like I had become one with the wind. All I could do was look up, and all I saw were stars, glinting brightly.

The sky to the east was dusted with pink, a sign of the sun rising. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. I was dead.

I was no more than a star in the sky.