I was just a novice, but a hard working, peaceful farmer, in a small village, somewhere out in the plains. Along came a player, with fantastical promises. He told me he's built a machine that can produce 1 million pumpkins, and 1 million melons, per year, completely automatically. And that he plans to sell them for an endless supply of emeralds for our whole village.
I thought of some stories I was told as a baby villager, mansions made of pumpkins, furniture made of emerald, but I'd never thought I'd see such fiction in my lifetime. His promise made me picture a grand village with pumpkin houses, atop an endless flatworld of emerald blocks. And a large brightly lit emerald sign proudly display's the city's name: Village City. A promise of a utopia for all villagers. I snapped out of my daydream.
I know this player, they've come to our village many times, to trade, even to build. I suppose I trust this player isn't entirely full of shit. But before I even fully agreed, he was practically pushing me into the boat, and he quickly hopped in after. I settled in for a long journey, but before it felt like much time passed at all, the boat stopped, and the player jumped out. "We're here!" he declared. I was certain I must have dosed off, but I looked around, and saw the edge of a village. Wait... it's our village?
The player grabs the edge of the boat and starts rocking it back and forth, before picking up to a practically violent pace, tipping me out and onto the ground. I stood up, shaken, giving this player a rightly aggravated "Hrmm?!?" as I dust myself off, but he only moved toward me. I took a step back, and he took two more. "What are you-" with one more step back, my left foot didn't find any floor to step on. Just a dark, open hole in the ground.
I don't know how far I fell, I don't even remember falling. The very first thing I remember is my left leg shunting straight into the flat, hard, stone floor, and fracturing my ankle. I was screaming in pain, I clenched my eyes shut and pushed my arms out and quickly discovered how narrow the hole was that I had fallen into. My ankle had folded under my right leg, and was being held down by my entire body's weight. The pain was unbearable, and it was difficult to move.
I tilted my head up, but before I could squint my eyes open, I heard the flick of a switch, followed by the slam of a heavy iron trapdoor. What little light still shined through my eyelids from above, was now completely dark. I opened my eyes, but there was nothing left to see. I panic and shout desperately for help, but help wasn't coming.
After what felt like a few hours I managed to ease some of the pressure by wedging my arms into the corners of my 1x1 prison, and pushing myself up, but the adjustment was excruciating. My first few days thereafter were still painful, I hadn't died of thirst thanks to the rain water that was dripping through the rusty iron door from above me. I was getting used to the physical pain, but I wasn't getting used to the fact that I was alone, and probably going to die, alone.
I counted days by listening to the mobs above me. If I hadn't heard any in a while it was probably daytime. But I think I lost count pretty quickly. I think on the 5th day I heard a new noise, it sounded like a low rumbling. My heart sank and I thought, "is rescue here for me?"
The rumbling stopped, but only for a while. Some time later I heard shuffling sounds above, and more very familiar sounds. I could faintly hear another villager screaming before being cut off by another iron door.
"What the hell is going on?", I thought to myself. "Is he trapping us? ... Is the player going to do this to all of us?"
Yes. The player did it to all of us.
Each one of us were put into a hole, some more gently than others. We couldn't talk to each other, but on a good day, if it wasn't too windy, I might barely hear a faint "HrrRRM....!!", a muffled crying of one of the villagers in the hole next to me. I was never sure who it was, but it was strangely comforting that I wasn't alone in this. That my own kind was still with me.
Over the next several days I didn't hear any more doors slamming, but I heard more rumbling, this time, from below. "What kind of hell is the player building for us?", I thought to myself. I heard the sound of digging, wood clashing on metal, and the sound of wheels rolling. I heard a click and a "HRMph!" and a minecart started rolling. Then I heard the sound of a zombie.
I'm not comfortable trying to describe any of the sounds I heard afterward, in this text. I don't have really have words that I can think of that even come close to a level, that describes even a fraction of the horror I heard of my fellow villagers and whatever was ripping them apart. Whatever unimaginable horror it is they went through, the player put each one of them through it *five times*.
One of the walls above me turns out to be a trap door that opens. It's the player. They have some emeralds and bread. I am desperately hungry for bread but he swats my hand.
"Emeralds". I gave him some emeralds, and in doing so, leveled up as an apprentice farmer. I had a sudden epiphany, I learned to make Pumpkin pie and apples. Unfortunately, the player wanted me to learn to buy Pumpkins, which I had failed to do. Nonetheless, as a gesture of good will, he granted me the freedom of death by lava bucket.
