Chapter Text
“Sia, hello to all of you, Chucken here, and welcome to another episode on my channel from a game called Minecraft,” Szymon said, adjusting the VR headset on his face. “Today I decided to play two horror mods — The Man from the Fog and The Knocker. Yeah, yeah, I already know some of you are gonna ask for it in the comments anyway.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, thinking if he should add anything else before starting. “Wait, the microphone isn’t recording—” He sighed and reached for the VR headset, but his hand grabbed nothing but air. “Huh?” He blinked in confusion, patting around his head frantically. “What in the Amazing Digital Circus is this?!” Panic immediately rose in his chest. Szymon clawed at his eyes, hoping this was just some sleep deprivation hallucination after another night spent editing videos, but when he looked down at his hands, his stomach dropped. They weren’t square. They looked human. Not his Minecraft skin either — not Jacket from Hotline Miami with the purple hoodie he always used. It was just him. His actual body, hoodie included.
“Max!” he yelled, quickly turning around. “Can you help me?! I’m stuck in VR!” No response came back. Only distant Minecraft ambience filled the air: rustling leaves, soft wind, the occasional cry of an animal somewhere far away. Szymon swallowed hard and looked around properly for the first time. A meadow stretched behind him while towering spruce forests stood to his left. Snow-covered mountains loomed ahead in the distance. Everything looked exactly like Minecraft, yet horribly real at the same time. “…Okay. Cool. Awesome. Totally normal,” he muttered to himself, trying to keep calm. “Guess I’m stuck here. Better get moving before it gets dark.”
The next few hours passed in a blur. He punched trees until his hands hurt, crafted basic tools, mined stone, and tried not to think too hard about the fact he could actually feel the cold wind against his skin. After gathering enough resources, he searched for a place to stay. The snowy mountains looked dangerous, the forest looked suffocating, and the open meadow felt too exposed. Eventually, he grabbed a few saplings and settled near the treeline on a relatively flat patch of land. “Hope Max finds me fast,” he thought while placing down a crafting table and furnace. “I don’t know how long I can survive here…”
His gaze slowly drifted back toward the forest. Tall spruce trees stretched endlessly into darkness, packed so tightly together that barely any light reached the ground beneath them. The deeper parts looked almost black. Unsafe. Still, after gathering every bit of courage he had left, Szymon stepped into the woods. Logs crashed loudly as he chopped them down while sweet berry bushes scratched painful little cuts across his fingers. Somewhere deeper in the forest, foxes barked and yipped into the quiet air. At first, he ignored it. It felt like a normal Minecraft ambience. Then he heard footsteps behind him.
Not his own.
Szymon spun around so fast his vision blurred. Nothing stood there. No mobs. No animals. No players. Just endless trees staring back at him. His body instantly tensed as his heartbeat slammed painfully against his ribs. Every instinct screamed at him to run, and honestly, that was an easy decision. Szymon bolted through the forest faster than he thought humanly possible, branches scraping against his sleeves as he stumbled back toward camp. By the time he reached the furnace, he was completely breathless. He leaned heavily against the cold stone, shaking while trying to listen for anything following him. Nothing came. Yet the feeling of being watched refused to disappear. He needed to get out of this game. Fast.