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Joel’s base was in shambles and he was pretty upset about it. There was a gaping hole in the side of his tower. He didn’t have time to fix it before and he sure wasn’t able to fix it now. The inky darkness from outside was seeping in, only offset by the remaining lamps spotted around his tower that didn’t get destroyed.
He should’ve clocked out somewhere else. His nostalgia park had seen better days. Whoever dropped by—probably Scar—they blew up his Ferris wheel! It hadn’t even been functional, it didn’t serve any purpose, they blew it up just to be mean. The nerve of some people.
He knew it was all going to disappear soon anyway, but it still bothered him. Reaching his last life and finally being allowed to unsheathe his weapons on other players was helping with some of the frustration, but not all of it. He was thinking it might’ve been a better idea to settle elsewhere for downtime. Maybe Pearl’s place, which was eerily empty tonight. Looking outside during downtime was chilling. No stars, no moon, just complete blackness that ate at the patches of light the players had scattered across the arena. It didn’t feel like the nights he spent on the mansion rooftop with Grian and Jimmy or in the boat with Etho. Then, he wasn’t alone. It was easy to ignore. This time, it was completely silent and lacked even a breath of wind to speak of.
Monsters didn’t spawn during this time. Animals didn’t utter a sound. The whole arena slept like an unspoken warning. Players, whether they were green, yellow or red, were meant to sleep too. It didn’t mean Joel would be able to. He hadn’t noticed it, not until now, not until his flimsy shelter left him at odds with what nature became this time.
He didn’t want to be alone in his crumbling base. Sadness wasn’t a good articulation for it. He was angry. His thoughts were fuzzy and still ridden with images of blood. Sleep wasn’t finding him, not like this. He’d moved his bed set into the room where his enchanter used to be just to shelter him from the open air, but it was cramped, it was unpleasant, it wasn’t working.
So he got up and he took a sword with him just in case. He’d never gone anywhere during downtime before. He didn’t know whether anyone ever had. Most were inclined to stay inside their bases.
The lantern in his other hand wasn’t helping as much as he expected. Maybe he’d show up at Etho, Grian and Cleo’s base. Lizzie was already dead. Jimmy was already dead. Joel didn’t bother to bring any armor. Was that a dangerous thing to do? It shouldn’t have been. After all, the hardest, fastest rule is that the game did not proceed during downtime. No deaths, no injuries, no building, no negotiating, no nothing.
Joel wasn’t thinking about it. He didn’t really want to go to Etho’s base, not after he embarrassed the hell out of himself with the TNT cannon that imploded on him. He had no plans for where he was going to go. He was growing increasingly frustrated about something and he couldn’t be bothered to figure out what it was at who cares o’clock. Maybe it was just those little embarrassments, his base getting blown up, those failed tasks, Jimmy dying again, lack of sleep, the usual.
Speaking of failed tasks, Joel was still mad at Scott and the failure of his last yellow task. People thought he was always mad at Scott—which might’ve been a little true. Something about Scott bothered him. Maybe it was that he thought he was better at the game, that he weaseled his way out of every ambush, or that he acted like if he simply tried, he would win again, and again, and again.
He almost tripped over half the pits in the main field leftover from the Wither incident. He’d left the thicket of trees and walked past the other Mounders’ bases now.
The thicket that continued on his left rustled abruptly, a sound far too lone in otherwise silent solitude. No monsters or animals could only mean one thing. Joel backed behind the nearest wall as quickly as he could, drawing his sword without a second thought. It was downtime, but his chest pounded with nervous excitement and hands trembled the way they always did. The mere thought of a person being behind that tree, alone out here in the dark, maybe not knowing of his presence yet, had red spinning in his eyes. He swallowed thickly.
And it was a person. They shuffled out, looking tired and absentminded.
It was Scott. Scott.
Blimmin’ Scott fuckin’ Major.
Joel could almost taste red in his mouth. His thoughts had brought Scott here like a cruel joke. Scott wasn’t looking at him. His expression didn’t look the way it did during the sessions, like he’d unmasked. It didn’t change anything. Scott was the worst person Joel could’ve run into right now.
“Joel,” Scott said coldly, since Joel hadn’t done much to conceal his presence with the lantern still flickering in his hand. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
Joel hesitated. “Isn’t it past yours?” he retorted. He fretted. “Idiot.”
It was annoying how Scott didn’t react. “Is this the first time you’ve been out between sessions?”
Joel still had his sword in his hand. Scott was completely unarmed. “Maybe yes, or maybe not. Sure is strange that there’s no one else around, Scott.” Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. He wanted to laugh. He had two voices in his ears, one telling him to make the best of this, one telling him he better not dare with increasing intensity. “What are you doing out here?”
“Sometimes sleeping like everyone else doesn’t work out.” Scott’s eyes darted away. “You better put that sword away, Joel. You know it’s against the rules.”
Ah, the rules. “I’m not doing anything,” Joel said with a sardonic smile. The red in his veins reeled. How he wanted revenge for his failure the other day—and it wasn’t just that. Scott never failed to get on his nerves, for reasons both comprehensible and incomprehensible.
The thought was subtle, but Scott won the game once, and he always seemed like he’d win again if he just tried. Joel wanted to win so, so badly. He hated how effortless the whole thing seems to Scott. And here Scott was, wandering around during downtime unarmed, probably moping around or something, because of course he was.
Joel was tempted to ignore the game just to get back at him for this mess in his brain, just this once, and Joel was known for handling temptation badly.
“What’s wrong, Scott? Are you worried I’m gonna kill you?” Joel asked. He drew closer. “Nobody’s ever been killed between days, have they? Why would it start now?”
Joel saw him take a step back. “Behave yourself, Joel,” Scott said with just enough song in his tone. Joel’s anger flared at the sound, yet his heart raced with intrigue. Sure, he could put up with this tonight.
Joel lifted his blade to show it off. “You should run before I decide where I want to put this.” He assumed Scott thought he was joking by the way the other hadn’t budged. Joel hadn’t really decided whether or not he was joking. Scott stayed still, staring him down like he was ready to berate him some more. In part, it bugged Joel. “You think I won’t?”
“There’s a reason nobody’s broken the rules,” Scott said, but his voice wavered.
Joel raised his sword, his red eyes glowing in lantern light. “Broken rules are easy to fix. You should humor me.” He swung beside Scott in an exaggerated display. He missed on purpose and cut the air. Had Scott not sidestepped, it would’ve grazed his arm. Scott instinctively reached for a weapon he didn’t have.
“Sometimes I wonder if you want to get in trouble,” Scott told him. Joel lunged for him again. Scott wasn’t ready to move this time and he tripped over one of the field’s smaller potholes, toppling onto his side with a grunt. Joel was upon him and Scott held up his hand to stop him. “Joel.”
Joel silently enjoyed the angle for a few moments, lifting his sword to Scott’s neck. Scott flinched, but didn’t tremble. Joel could’ve killed Scott now, but that would’ve been anticlimactic. He stood up straight, backing up without ever diverting his gaze. “Did you hear me the first time? I’ll give you a five second head start, Scott.”
Scott shifted onto his knees, brushing dirt off his arms. “This is insane.”
Joel stayed still. “Five.”
“I’m not playing murder tag with you.”
“Four,” Joel sang.
Scott reluctantly conceded. He rose.
“Three.”
Scott began running towards his base.
“Two!”
With the call of one, Joel charged in pursuit. He moved quickly but carefully in the pitch black arena, following the small light attached to Scott’s belt. When he reached the staircase that led up the mountain, Joel wasn’t surprised. He figured Scott would try to return to his base. Suddenly, the light following Scott vanished.
Scott thinks he can disappear, Joel pictured. He started to climb the stairs. There was nowhere to run up here, unless Scott was willing to scale the wall in the dark and shamble down the cliffside, or willing to jump multiple stories into the body of water below. The whole thing was unlikely. If Scott were simply rousing his friends from sleep, that would've been boring, but unfortunately it was a possibility.
Joel peeked through the gateway, ensuring that there wasn’t a trap set out of habit, even though redstone didn’t work at all during downtime. He stepped into their territory. “Scott,” he called out in a whispered tone. There was no answer. “Say hello.” With his sword slung over his shoulder, he took cautious steps. He didn’t remember which one of the three houses was Scott’s and he didn’t really want to drag Gem and Impulse into this. “You’ve made this the shortest chase scene ever."
He heard something shut inside the center house. Joel crept closer, approaching the front window and readying his sword. He heard quiet shuffling inside. Joel grinned halfheartedly, wondering if Scott had stooped to risk breaking the rules himself. Joel nudged the unlatched door and it creaks.
The house somehow felt even darker than it did outside, but at least it neglected the jarring, foreboding way the open air felt. Joel took one step inside, then another, his grip tightening around his weapon. His red-stained brain was promising how much he’d enjoy this. Not just getting petty revenge, not just the simple act of beating Scott in this nameless back-and-forth, but the idea of the attention it would garner him. He wasn’t thinking too hard about the ramifications. If it were against the rules, it simply wouldn’t count. Grian fixed broken rules all the time. Sure, the kill wouldn’t count and Joel would have to repeat the action tomorrow to insert it into the record, but that wasn’t the point.
An axe-wielding shadow crossed the room. Joel, without hesitation, dropped his lamp and lunged for it. He avoided one swing, and another, the blade flying dangerously close to his face. They weren’t real strikes. Scott could have hit him for real and Joel knew this. He supposed it was Scott’s own loss.
He gave Scott a vigorous push to a wall, an arm at his neck, his sword raised in his opposite hand. Scott’s weapon fell, clattering on the wood floor.
“Really, you’re going down this easy? Are you making fun of me?” Joel asked, their faces barely illuminated in the pitch dark by the lamps they carried. Joel lifted the sword past Scott’s side, bringing it imposingly close to his neck again.
Scott put his hands up. “It was worth a shot,” he said, strangely unconcerned for a man with a sword pointed at him. “Well, go on.” Joel pushed closer, starting to feel flustered again. He’d feel better in a moment, once there was a bit of blood on the scene. That was how it worked. That was how it always worked. He did see Scott wince at the blade that now touched his throat. The way he ever-so-silently sucked in air, blinking a moment longer than normal.
“People tell me I enjoy this more than most people,” Joel said. His chest felt tight. It ached when he slid the tip of the blade to the collar of Scott’s shirt. “More than…” Joel strained. His sword wouldn’t budge any further. “… most.”
His hand wouldn’t move.
His hand started to shake. He tried, and tried.
Scott’s facial expression changed a little.
The sword fell out of Joel’s hands, clanging against the axe that already lay on the ground. He backed away, the arm that wielded the weapon shaking with a frigid violence.
“I tried to warn you,” Scott chided. Joel held onto his own arm, disconcerted and self-conscious. His vision was stirring, his body was starting to hurt, mocking him for the very thing he was made into on this field. Scott’s face, decorated by dim light, was drained of any fear he may have had. Joel wanted to reach for his weapon again, but it seemed so far away now.
When he saw the tiny smile creeping up on Scott’s face, Joel got flustered. He hastily grappled for Scott’s neck, but his flimsy movements and inability to hold tight made the movement far too gentle. All he felt was warm skin and a small thump on the wall while his fingers shook with resistance. Scott took hold of Joel’s hand at his neck and slid it away.
“You know, you’re the first person who’s tried to attack me between sessions,” Scott told him. “If it makes you feel better, I really didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to.”
The unsatisfied red under Joel’s skin was searing. He jerked his hand away. Clenching his teeth, he bent over to retrieve his weapon from the ground. With complicated determination and a very angry red heart, Joel raised his sword again. Scott didn’t even blink this time. Scott held his hand up, nearly touching the blade, and Joel immediately froze. His body would not move another inch.
“It is a little bit funny,” Scott said. When Scott’s hand moved, Joel’s head spun with vertigo. He grabbed for a wall with his armed hand, his other hand finding his forehead while the floor shifted in circles. “Sorry.”
“Shut up,” Joel groaned, clumsily supporting himself and stumbling to the doorway. “I’m leaving.”
“Already? You’re not going to tell me what you were doing wandering around out there? You know, most people sleep.”
“Right, like you were doing that.”
“I saw that your tower wasn’t in very good shape. Are you going back there?” Scott had some annoying, thin smile on his face. Joel hated how it didn’t even look real. “You don’t want to stay any longer, do you?”
“With you? No.” Joel looked outside, the abyssal void out there not looking much better than it did before. It was like being at the bottom of the ocean. The feeling Joel got earlier—that one that told him to stay out, the one that warned him of a darkness that breathed and demanded his ignorance—it was worse than before.
“Sometimes I wonder if there’s a monster waiting out there,” Scott said with a sigh. “One that’ll get us if we stay out for too long.”
“I cannot even believe you,” Joel grumbled. Refusing to be intimidated by the atmosphere, he stormed outside and grabbed the handle to shut the door behind him. His body still ached. He felt like he could see the sky turning. A soft metallic sound with no identifiable source thumped in the air.
“Can you feel them counting the times you’ve stepped outside?” Scott asked, meandering by the doorframe.
Joel let go of the door handle and backed away. “Scott, I swear to god, when tomorrow comes, the first thing I am going to do is come and kill you,” he said. “And then I’m gonna win the game.”
“Sure. Good luck.” Scott said, hands on the door. “Have a nice night.” He didn’t close it. He just watched, menacing red heat in his eyes. Joel almost got stuck in it. He liked being around other reds. The fighting, the messes, the games, the uncertainty—there wasn’t any fun in being alone. But this, not like this. Not with strings around his limbs and this nausea like he was looking off the side of a building. And most certainly not with Scott. “You forgot something.” Scott suddenly presented Joel his abandoned lantern. “You probably shouldn’t go down a set of stairs without being able to see your hands in front of your face.”
With a perturbed look, Joel came closer and snatched it from Scott’s hands. He turned to leave, feeling Scott’s eyes boring into the back of his head. It wasn’t until Joel was out of sight that he heard the door slide shut, obscuring its faint light.
The feeling of being watched did not subside.
Joel’s feet carried him back to his base quickly after that.