Reader vs. Herobrine

                                     .:Monster in My Bed:.

The night was cold and black as soot as the clouds covered any remaining light of the bright moon. Slow flakes gently swayed down to the ground, coating the dirt in a white clean blanket. The cabin was well-built, for it kept you and your husband very warm through the fiercest of storms. Steve had out-done himself with its sturdy structure with whole logs of spruce trees tightly nailed together. The cabin itself was far away from any village and nestled comfortably at the bottom of two mountains to avoid the powerful winds of frequent blizzards that often swept through the region. A fireplace was at the side of the bed closest to you; Steve had always thought of you and wanted you to stay as warm as possible in the night. However, you felt a shiver run down your spine, causing you to stir awake slowly. The bed comforter had slipped off your shoulder, leaving half of your body exposed to the chilly air. As your eyes opened just barely, the light of the fire could be seen as very dim to where there were only smoldering ashes left. That was odd, the fire was always piled on and would last throughout the entire night.

You were much too groggy to notice the significance of it. So you simply rolled over to face your husband while pulling the thick wool comforter over your icy shoulder. You shivered and looked at Steve; he was rolled over as well, facing away from you so you could only see his scarred, muscular and tightly-toned back and shoulders. Years of combat with zombies and skeletons and arrows had certainly left their mark on his flesh, which you always admired and often found yourself running your fingers over the scars.

Steve had always put you first, he was truly a loving and caring husband who valued and treasured your company. For most of his life, like you, he was alone, surviving on his own with no one to fall back on. You treasured him more than diamonds, and you both got along better than anyone ever could've thought. You were inseparable, invulnerable together, and fearless when you both wielded your iron swords. You were safe with him, you knew you were safe.

As you rolled over, your moved yourself closer to him until his back was against your chest, then you slipped one of your legs between his legs, cuddling him closely to steal some of his warmth. But as you your palm slid over his shoulder, something felt wrong, terribly wrong.

He was cold as ice.

Your eyes opened up a little, allowing you to notice that he wasn't moving. He was lying there as still as a corpse. You waited a few moments, not registering what your own senses were detecting and noticed that his chest wasn't moving to take in air for breaths. You sat up slightly and observed him closer, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to see better.

"Steve?" you called his name softly as you gently shook his shoulder. You were very concerned, you could feel your heart pick up the pace. Yet you prayed to Notch that he was simply cold from the dim fire like you were, and that your eyes were deceiving you. You waited a few seconds for him to respond.

Silence.

"Steve? Babe, wake up." you shook him again harder this time. He remained still, and you sat up completely. Now you were beginning to panic. You pulled your hair from your face and gripped his shoulder, forcefully rolling him onto his back so you could see his face. When you rolled Steve over, the room quickly became illuminated by two bright white lights. The light...came from his eyes. The bright white glow lit up every handsome feature of his face. His stubble was a bit on the longer side and his thick, dark brown hair was loose and long over his forehead. Even with his pupils completely missing, you could tell that they were peering deep into your very soul. The shock of it startled you and you quickly pushed yourself away from him. You fell harshly off the bed and landed on your back and felt the bitter cold floor press against your warm exposed flesh. You were only wearing a worn night gown and panties, causing goosebumps to quickly spread all over your body. Your eyes were wide with fear as you screamed and backed away. The man was not your husband, you could feel it deep inside that this was surely not Steve even though he looked exactly like him.

He rose from the bed and pulled off the wool blankets while staring nonstop at you with an ominous grin painted across his face. He ran his hand through his thick hair and chuckled as he watched you crawl on the ground to back away from him. You felt the brick wall of the fireplace touch your back, and you used it as support when you began to stand up.

"Whats wrong, my love? Did I scare you?" he asked in somewhat of a taunting tone and sat on the edge of the bed. You couldn't find the words to ask him who he was or what had happened to your husband. Instead, you were struck with fear and confusion, and you questioned your sanity at that point. Was this a nightmare? Were you still asleep? Were you sleep-walking? You shivered violently in cold and fear, and you began to pant heavily when you watched him stand up slowly. He was a bit taller than Steve, around 6 foot, 5 inches. He towered over you, and his body was built and seemed layered with thick muscle and scars. His eyes beamed through you, lighting up the room and his own grin.

"Come back to bed...Aren't you cold?" he laughed as he reached out for you. Even his voice was strong and ominous, almost demonic. You immediately began feeling around the wall for the fire poker to use as a weapon, and quickly gripped the ice-cold handle to it and held onto it tightly until your knuckles bleached. You waited until he was close enough to strike, and with all your strength, you swung that fire poker and slammed it across his temple. You could hear the horrifying sound of blood splattering across the hardwood floors and his skull crunch as the bone shattered. His scream of rage and agony quickly followed, and his eyes closed, making the room darken once more. You wasted no time in running for your life out the door. The door slammed open and your feet sunk deep into the blanket of snow. The bitter cold hit you like a bullet, filling your oxygen-hungry lungs with painful icy breaths. The bones in your feet ached as the snow slowly began to freeze your skin, but that didn't slow you down. You kept running. You could care less about the zombies or skeletons or even the creepers that may have been hiding ahead of you. All you knew was to get away from the man that was in your home. Whatever was outside was nowhere near as dangerous as the man who was behind you. Your instincts told you so.

"Steve! Steve, help me! Help!" you cried out desperately as you sprinted deeper and deeper into the woods. You still carried the fire poker in your hand as you ran, but then you ran into something. It was too soft to be a tree, but was strong and sturdy enough to knock you back with ease. You fell back and you lost your breath, but you amazingly didn't drop the fire poker. You quickly looked up to see the outline of a humanly figure, a masculine figure. You let out another scream of terror, thinking that it was the man with white eyes. So as you stumbled onto your feet, you swung the fire poker once more. Your swing this time was weak and slow, for you were exhausted from running. The man caught the fire poker and ripped it from your hands before throwing it to the ground. You felt helpless and terrified, but you knew that you couldn't outrun this man. If he could appear in front of you when you had just ran full-sprint, what hope did you have of out-running him now?

So you fought back.

You swung your fists as hard as you could towards the man, feeling your knuckles land a few punches on what felt like his chest and arms. You screamed and shouted as you fought, hoping that somehow it would scare him, though you doubted it.

"Get away from me! I'll fucking kill you!" you screamed in a rage, but you felt warm hands tightly grip your wrists and hold you back, stopping your assault as quickly as it started. The grip was strong and unbreakable, a grip that you knew well.

"Baby! Sweetheart, calm down, its me! Its Steve!" yelled a familiar voice, a voice that soothed you whether you were worried, sad, or angry. You quickly stopped your struggling and froze in your place, questioning if the voice was truly Steve's.

"Steve?" you shivered as you looked hard into the darkness, and you could make out those familiar blue eyes. His eyes were soft and comforting, and you immediately found refuge in them. He let go of your arms as soon as he felt you relax, and as soon as he let go, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him. He quickly embraced you and wrapped his warm strong arms around you, squeezing you in his safe grip. You began to weep on his shoulder and you could feel him kiss your neck.

"Baby, whats wrong? You have me worried sick." he asked calmly, but you struggled to tell him what exactly happened. You stuttered and gasped and swallowed your words, worried that he wouldn't believe you. As you found yourself babbling, he put his finger to your lips and hushed you. He then reached down and picked you up off the ground. You hadn't realized how cold you were, which had Steve very concerned. "You can explain when we get home. I'm sorry I left you alone, I had to go get some more fire wood." he said apologetically as he cradled you in his arms. The sound of chopped wood could be heard in his inventory, and you could feel the leather strap over his chest that held his ax rub against your arm. Though you dreaded going back to the cabin, you knew you would be safe with Steve, even if the man with white eyes were still there waiting for you. You nuzzled his shoulder and began to shiver violently, but even in the coldest of nights, Steve's warmth spread from him to you generously, and you couldn't help but smile.