Heh...
I remember it like it was yesterday. Waking up one day to a fully downloaded Minecraft. I was ecstatic. I didn’t know that would be the only time I played it for what must be a year now. I’m still spooked.
The ecstasy was still there as I logged in. Created a new world. Waited for the terrain to load.
It had been replaced by fear by the time I realised what I was seeing.
Staring at it, confirming my worst fears, I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed.
My character, my skin, was lying on the cobblestone in front of me. Dead. Its arms were twisted back at odd angles and the ground was COVERED in what I now realise was redstone.
Standing next to my corpse was an Enderman. Or rather, an Endergirl. She stared at me with her emerald eyes and screeched, before teleporting directly in front of my face.
The keyboard wouldn’t work fast enough as I immediately quit the game. I was so freaked out. I was only fifteen!
I haven’t played Minecraft since. And Endergirl still stands there, awaiting my return.
But I don’t want there to be TWO dead bodies lying on the ground.