A Short Minecraft Rant

I’m an avid Minecraft player and a big fan of creepypasta, so when I heard that there existed creepypasta about Minecraft, I was excited. I had big hopes for pastas about the game. I mean, it’s Minecraft! Endless possibilities, right? You can be original with it, right?

… Right? Wrong.

Looking through the various pastas, I came to realize that nearly all of them followed a near identical formula: Spawn in, something weird, Herobrine, end. It’s an outdated, cliché formula that also traps almost all other gamepastas that I’ve read, and it’s sickening. Why these authors cannot simply do something ORIGINAL, I’ve no idea. Let me tell you this outright: These writers have NO idea what Minecraft is about. None at all. They think that Endermen and what you don’t see is what’s creepy about it. This is just wrong on so many levels that it hurts. Well, allow me to tell you why Minecraft is creepy. And multiplayer doesn’t count, okay? This counts as Survival.

The game is not about Herobrine trying to take your soul. It is not about hidden files in the app data folder. It’s about isolation and solitude in its most ironic form and it is POWERFUL if you notice it. Minecraft is a story about you, the lone human in an endless world. A wanderer, a farmer, a builder and warrior capable of creating anything he desires, but must first try to survive on his own.

But no matter what he builds, no matter what his crops yield, and no matter where he wanders, he will always be alone. He cannot become attached to the wildlife, because he must slaughter it for its meat. He cannot become attached to a tamed wolf or ocelot, because they will eventually die by his hands, or at the hands of a horrible monster.

The world itself taunts him. It gives him all the materials he could wish for, but not one true companion. He may come across a village, but the people are alien to him, unable to speak his language or aid him in any way, besides trading away basic goods for priceless gems. Most do not even acknowledge his presence among them.

And what becomes of him? Nothing. He will venture into hell itself, slay horrible abominations, and stop The End from destroying the world he became attached to. And no one will be there to notice. No one will be there to care. No one. Only him. He’ll even (once) see a message, apparently sent by gods.

And he lives his never ending life. He will wander, and wander, and wander until something kills him, may it be the undead, wolves, or molten magma. He will wander forever more, digging and walking, because he can’t fatigue. He can only hunger and feel pain. He can be blinded, poisoned, and lit with flames, but will not allow himself to die. Why is this?

Because he thinks there’s more. Because he desperately hopes that there’s something else, something new to this world that he can find, although there is none. And when it’s all mined, all dead, all harvested, all gone…

… He’ll die and be reborn, and have to do it again. This is the truth of Minecraft. This is the truth of the world that Notch created. Why this is, I don’t know, but it just horrifies me when I think about it, because I’m him. I’m the player, forcing the character to do all of this just to fulfill my own selfish boredom.

Steve will live. Steve will die. And Steve will mine. That’s all he will ever know. And you’re forcing it on him.

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Written by Wolfenmaus.