Batwing4 Beckons Me: 2018 Remake

I walked through the door of my house.

It was Friday, that meant no homework and going straight to Minecraft. I put my backpack down beside the door and walked towards my room. As I did so, I took a glance at my mother in her office near the kitchen e-mailing someone.

Perfect. No distractions.

I walked up to the computer and turned it on, letting it load for a few seconds as I stated at the Microsoft Logo loading screen. After what seemed like hours but was only five minutes, I was in. I clicked on the Minecraft Launcher. I prefer to use the old launcher, the one we had before Microsoft owned the game. I just like it for some reason.

I was at the title screen.

I clicked on Multiplayer and went to my favorite server, Minegrade. It's a very popular server with around 10,000 Players on at a day. It has Skyblock, Factions, Bedwars, Creative, Skywars, and so much more on it, so no wonder it was popular.

I was a very known player on the server. I won a contest to be able to become the head of the mods, however I am below the admin rank. It is better than nothing. As the Server finished loading up, I looked on Tab. My friend Batwing4 was on... The asshole admins, always making fun of him. He's a noob but I took him under my wing, despite the whole server making fun of him at this point. I feel so bad for him...

I went to my island, only to notice that it was nighttime... But darker then usual. To my horror, I noticed the moon was blood red. I quickly checked my texture packs. Nope, nothing. I had the normal Minecraft texture pack. I spoke up in chat about it.

(Head Mod) GREEN0704: Anyone else know the moon is red?

(Head Admin) Starkz: Yeah, must just be a glitch.

(Head Mod) GREEN0704: You sure?

(Head Admin) Starkz: Of course, what else could it be? Your starting to sound like that nooby friend of yours.

(Head Mod) GREEN0704: Be quiet about Batwing4, Starkz.

(Head Admin) Starkz: Why do you have to defend that loser?

(Head Mod) GREEN0704: Why do you have to make fun of my friend?

(Head Admin) Starkz: Touche... Well this is bothering me, Ima go...HOLYCRAPWHATTHEFUDGEISTHATTHINGWHAGTYEHEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL@&#$-7##(2(#;$+=+=;$+%+$+#+@+2++#$+$+#+@;$+$++$$++##+#+$+$+$+#+#+$+%&$&6#273:#'=``=|°€℅€=¢=£¶`]¢[|=¢{£{`]¢[¢[\{£{£{£{,MXNSJWJSKSNEJAKSKDHWJSJNSNDJSKSMSNDEJKEKEKSMDNDDNDMDJD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I looked at Tab and noticed that he was gone. Actually, half the server was gone... The moon was red and players are going ballistic and leaving...

This is not normal.

I went to spawn and saw the players going insane. They were running around everywhere in a panic. One player was spamming a news article link in chat, which I clicked.

The headline?

"Supernatural Entity Causes Gaming Server Massacre"

This is not good. I read the article.

"A Minecraft Server called Minegrade, is being haunted by a spectral disturbance. Two days ago, a boy in Japan known as Mokoto took his own life yesterday, only to have his account to start terrorizing and killing players on the server, and when they die in the game, they are reported to quit the game and to go into comes in the real world..."

I stopped reading. That was all I needed to know. Batwing4's name was Makoto... Could it be? No... It's just not possible... I entered the server once more. The spawn only looked more destroyed. I began to traverse the hellish landscape. Could it really be Makoto torturing the poor players?

I looked to the side of me. There was a huge battle taking place. There was a player with a human head, a black body and arms, and it was surrounded by gray energy with his eyes glowing with the same energy. I looked at its nametag and froze.

Batwing4.

I even recognized the head of the skin to be his.

My friend was undead, and slaughtering innocent players.

I have to stop this...

I sprinted over to the battle after putting on God Armor and wielding my God Sword. Batwing4 took a look at me from the battle.

Batwing4: Green...

I swear I could hear a dark voice whisper that from my speakers as the message in chat appeared.

W. I. P.