There once was the magical land of the slopes. A beautiful place of calmth and pleasure. Blockheads would skate off of the towering mountains, and drive their jeeps along the steep slopes. They built cottages, cities, team deathmatches and pretty much everything you can imagine in the prettiest terrain there was in Blocklandia. All blockheads lived in the slopes. Together. Everyone knew eachother. But there was 1 blockhead. A different blockhead. They neglected him because he was such a weird and creepy person. He told everyone he met that this bountiful land wouldn't last forever. The blockheads laughed at him and his idea. For many ages and versions the empire lasted. It was founded in v8 afterall. They had gone through many versions. They survived everything. But the outcast kept telling them v21, the next version, would be their Armageddon. None believed this crazy story. Why would, after 12 versions, the 13th be dangerous? They lived through the great red infection of v17 afterall. Superstition was something for the mad and insane, the blockheads thought. But then, it happened. On the 9th of august, 2012, v21 was released. The horizons were black. Everyone closed their doors, shut their hatches and went to their basements. There was no dawn. The sun didn't rise. Instead, the stars faded into black instead of blue. In the distance they could hear it. A roar. A rumble. A scream. The roaring got closer. After an agonizing 5 minutes, one blockhead dared to look outside of his window. He opened the hatch slowly and silently. Only to see at the outskirts of the village, the head of Badspot, the creator of the slopes empire, on a pike. Someone was next to him. It wasn't a blockhead. It couldn't be a blockhead. It's hair was colored ginger, and he had a strong, imposing beard. On his nose there stood a pair of glasses, giving him a sharp and firm look. He noticed the blockhead and looked right at him. The blockhead closed the shutter. And when he opened it again to see what happened, the human stood right in front of his window. He exhaled. he didn't exhale air. No. He exhaled a black smoke, as thick as honey. It covered the blockhead. He tried to scream but he couldn't. The black fluid surrounded him. He, and the house he was in, faded into a black color, the sank into the ground, after which the ground became completely flat. The human, dubbed the 'Kompressor' for crushing the houses into the ground started smashing every single house in the village right into the ground. Until there was nothing of it left but a dark, flat slate. This process expanded. Like a virus in a metropole. it spread out to the nearby villages. Slowly creeping along an increasingly flat ground. The last village to stand was the village of Spawn, at the top of the highest slope mountain. The dark lord Kompressor looked at it, and called off his creeping shadow. he was going to do this himself. With a mighty smack of his destructo-wand, he obliterated the mountain the village was on, and the village on the top fell down, into a perfectly black abyss. Nothing was left of the slopes empire. It had been reduced to a flat, black slate. Life didn't exist on the slate. Just Kompressor, surrounded by eternal darkness.
Reposting this here because the thread I made this in originally died with the story and I put effort in it.
Also it depicts hatred towards Kompressor so it goed in this thread.
