MONSTERS UNDER THE BED (MegaBlitz)

Steven is placed in a wide plains, surrounded by thick fog. The full moon is shining overhead.

Out of nowhere, mobs start spawning. Skeletons, spiders, silverfish, witches, even wither skeletons for whatever reason - every mob

Steven ever encountered. A wooden sword drops next to Steven, who picks it up and decides to fight for his life.

After taking down the last one, two silhoutes appear in the fog, revealing an Enderman and a Zombie, both of whom look like Bart and Dave.

Steven slowly drops the sword and runs into the mist, refusing to fight Not-Bart and Not-Dave.

When he couldn't see past a foot around him, he stops and collapses to his knees, panting. He hugs himself for comfort, but feels something squishy against his chest.

Looking down, he sees a baby slime in his arms, looking depressed. It looked like Jerry.

Tears fill Steven's eyes and he resigns to fate.

His arms slacken and drop the slime as he falls forward, Not-Bart's claw covered in his blood.

(Steven is a nervous character, rarely acting when not around Bart or Dave. Jordan's murder was the first time he ever fought without them. The mob part would support that, he fights without Bart and Dave at his side for once. But then he refuses to kill their lookalikes, showing that they're his weaknesses. When he sees Jerry, he finally realizes what he just did and gave up, letting the lookalike of his old friend kill him).

-So...the rotten flesh is a bait now, or something?

If it is, then...

'As he chewed on the cookie (Nice, it's still warm), Jordan headed towards his room, feeling slightly tired. He didn't want to be reminded of the 'changes' MonoWither had made to it, but hey, it was better than just sleeping anywhere and getting punished.

As he walked down the hallway (This isn't chocolate chip - sadly), he smelled a faint but disgusting odor from somewhere along the hallway. His Hunger Games instincts kicked in, brain trying to identify the smell.

Something damp.

Something rotten.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Rotten flesh.

Cautiously, still debating on whether to double back and tell the others or not, he followed the smell. If it's a corpse...

(No...not oatmeal either...)

The smell grew stronger with each step he took...but even still, he was starting to slow down. He suddenly felt much more exhausted than he was just a few seconds ago. Should he just go to his room...?

But what about the smell?

(Could it be red velvet?...actually, probably not.)

He shook his head, trying to shake the exhaustion away. He needed to investigate this smell.

But he was so tired...

...maybe the smell could wait, while he took a little...rest...

He let out a breathless sigh, before falling forwards onto the floor, an arm splayed out in front of him.

(Well, it's not macadamia, that's for sure...)

His fingers slackened, the cookie in its grasp rolling away, once, twice, before stopping.

Jordan, the Super Duper Minecrafter Level Songwriter, was dead.'