I hauled myself to my feet once more. Three times, three times since I’d been here had I fallen into that suffocating darkness only to find myself cast back to the same shore time and time again. Had I died? Was this some hellish afterlife I must endure as punishment for my misdeeds? (Is injecting your semen into your housemate’s canned goods even really a sin? Still I had no choice but to continue with my quest to build some kind of shelter. I must return to that cliff-face where I had found coal and longbow wielding skeletons in equal measure. Girding my rectangular loins I set out once more. Only to be set upon almost immediately by a hideous quadruped cactus man. My attempts at communication were met with a high pitched hissing as he lunged towards me.
I dodged to one side and then found myself hurled forward as the cactus man exploded behind me. Luckily I sustained only minor injuries. Though the pig who had been wandering by wasn’t quite so lucky. Feeding on his delicious porky cubes I made my way back to the cliff face. At least that bastard skeleton had left my work bench intact. I spent the morning manufacturing blade and pick and the evening hewing my way into the cliff face. As night fell my pants were replete with coal and stone and I had left my mark upon the face of this stinking world.
Combining some coal with a nearby tree branch I was able to fashion a rudimentary torch. At least now I would be able to see the night terrors as they butchered me.
Setting torches in place I continued to carve my way into the face of the cliff. Working my way slowly around the outskirts of the bay. The night was filled with the bone chilling screams of giant arachnids as they crawled just beyond the range of my torches light. As I laboured on into the night I came across a seam of coal. But my strip mining was rudely interrupted as another of those strange cactus men dropped from a ledge above and exploded in my face. Running away in terror I spun around only to see another of them lurking beyond the torches light. His four spongy legs letting him sneak up soundlessly.
I’d had enough! Enough of this fucking world, of fucking blocks, of fucking cactus men and mining and dying and maybe falling in love with a giant fucking duck! ENOUGH! I armed myself with one of the crude stone swords I’d fashioned earlier and charged into battle…
…whereupon the fucker exploded!
Fuck. Fuck fucking cactus men!
As morning came I let myself relax. Evidently prematurely, as a hissing sound followed by a large, and lethal, explosion, was my only warning that one of those cactus bastards had found me. FUCK FUCKING CACTUS MEN!
Back on this fucking beach. I’m tempted just to sit here until the madness fully takes hold. If it hasn’t already. Fuck it; better see if the site of my death has any supplies worth scrounging. As I made my way back once more to the cliffs of doom I ran into what appeared to be some ordinary stationary cacti. Before I knew what had happened the rage took over and I smashed them to pieces with an almost sexual feeling of satisfaction. Feeling slightly better I continued towards the cliffs. On the way I beat a sheep to death. It felt good. Now his wool is mine. Take that sheep wanker.
Ha even from a distance my marks on the land were plain to see. I’d dug deep into the cliff face, driving the reminder of my presence deep into the filthy earth of this shitty world. Take that you cactus fuckers!
Returning to the site of my (fourth) ignoble demise I found the contents of my superdimensional pants scattered hither and yon.
Evidently, though I myself appeared to be immortal, the trauma of my death and rebirth caused my pants to vomit up whatever was in their stomach at the time of my resurrection. Recovering some of my hard earned supplies I once more dug on into the night.
After gathering enough stone for my needs (and spying one of those skeleton shitheads) I decided that I’d had enough of the cliffs. I’d return to my beach and a stone cabin build there of stone and cobble made.
On my way back to the beach I spied a herd of pigs, and sword in hand I waded in to get my morning bacon!
My hunger sated I made my way back to the beach. Now that I had returned I remembered the catacombs that stretched beneath the island. Why hadn’t I simply done my fucking mining there? Was not getting killed by bizarre monsters just not exciting enough? Still if I intended to continue with my mining I would need more wood. And I had already stripped this island bare. The nearby island had trees aplenty but I was tired of swimming. It was time to but my superdimensional pants to use! Slaving away at my work bench I churned out cobblestone after cobblestone and as night feel I began to lay my bridge across the sea. Why it floated I can’t say, I can shed even less light upon the fact that I knew it would.
As I swam through the night seas laying brick after brick I could hear the sound of monsters howling from the surrounding islands. As I neared the end of my task my delicious meat cubes evidently proved too much temptation as one of the giant spiders that plagued these islands hurled itself into the sea and furiously tried to make its way towards me.
Dragging myself up onto my newly constructed bridge I laughed in manic glee as the floundering arachnid flopped around in the water. I hit it with my sword, again, and again and again. Who’s laughing now you eight legged cunt? WHOS LAUGHING NOW?
After venting my anger and building my bridge I returned to the main island and continued my land clearing efforts.
As light filled the sky I had removed any remnants of the hill from the island. All that remained was a featureless plain and an entrance to the catacombs below.
I would build my home here and from there set out to explore the bowels of this world. Digging deep into its innards I may perhaps find some clue that may lead to my escape. As a further sign of good omens my friend the duck returned once more. Its gentle quacking wafting across the island brought a smile to my face as I began construction of my simple abode.
As night fell I retreated inside the walls of my half-finished home. While it was not yet complete I felt it offered ample enough protection from the more common night terrors. Only the explosive force of the cactus men would bring down these walls. For the first time in a week I felt some semblance of safety and relief.
Even this slight release of tension was enough to send me drifting off to sleep. It felt so strange to fade into blackness of my own volition rather than because I had been killed by some fucked up hybrid of lego and bastardry. As I slept I dreamed. I seemed to be looking down on some kind of blocky archipelago. It was with commingled horror and understanding that I realised I was somehow looking down on the world I was trapped in. As it stretched off into the distance I felt hope die once more, no structures of any kind marred its cuboid beauty. I was alone it seemed; alone with the monsters.
Listening to: Iron Maiden - Run to the Hill's