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Cassie watches them go, then once she loses sight, she listens to them go. She hears the old one with a beard exclaim something about adventure. She sits down, might as well get comfortable. Or, at least, as comfortable as she can get on a dirt platform above hungry endermites. She hugs Winslow closer to herself, at least they gave her her beloved cat, Winslow. Her one true friend.
Nothing in her inventory, not even food. She dropped everything except for her axe and ender pearls when she fell into that sand trap, to make it believable. How she survived? She's not stupid, she has ways to escape that only she knows about. While normal people would be in a panic and blindly trying to surface, she knows that there are exits to escape through within the traps. She knew damn well she was backing up into that sand trap, and she knew damn well that if she didn't, everyone wouldn't leave her alone. Leaving a majority of her inventory behind to make it believable that she died was a small price to pay for a chance of getting out of this world.
This world, this world with these damned moons. Jesse and their gang ruined her chance at getting out of here, now even more stuck in this world with those freaks of nature. And with the enchanted flint and steel with Stampy, Dan, and Stacy, trying to get that is a no go. For all she knows, they could already be exploring worlds with it, leaving her behind. Because that's what they all do. That's all anybody does with her.
She sits there, on the dirt platform. No more pearls, no more axe, just her cat and herself. Which has hands. Which can punch and collect the dirt. She lights up slightly, she didn't put much thought into what the platform would be made of because death would be inevitable, but perhaps this was an oversight. An oversight that ended up saving her.
She gently put Winslow to the side of her, which he sat up and looked at her with a tilted head. She paid it no mind as she got to work punching a dirt block on the further edge. Then another one. And another one. And then another one. And she goes to the opposite edge and starts making a bridge. Winslow watches his owner work, as he's above doing this dirty work.
With only 6 blocks to work with, making a full bridge is out of the question. So she uses a trick she learned in The Games; make as much bridge as she can, go to the back of it, break and collect the blocks, and reuse them up at the front. Around the second time doing this, Winslow hopped up onto Cassie's shoulders, as he was getting tired of getting stepped over and Cassie was getting tired of needing to step over him. It made it a little harder, but she constructed some of her traps with Winslow like this, so she was used to it.
By the time she got to the obsidian wall, she had dropped two dirt blocks, which the endermites destroyed quickly. It was something to watch them devour a not even edible block so quickly, but it gave some comfort so that if she fell in at least the pain wouldn't last for too long. Maybe she should start feeding them a little bit to make it a bit more excruciating. That's a plan for when she gets out.
Now faced with the obsidian wall, she starts to punch. Hard. As hard as she can. Out of desperation, out of anger, out of a lot of complicated emotions she doesn't feel like unpacking right now. She yelled as she got the last punches required to break the obsidian. Her knuckles hurt. Still a long way to go though. She punches the second obsidian block in order to make a passageway she can walk through.
By the time she gets to the stone, outside of the chamber, she thinks about how the portal could still be open. There's a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. It motivates her to keep punching. Imagining she's punching Jesse also helps. The thought of catching up to their group—The Order of the Stone, what a stupid name—and giving them a piece of her mind was exhilarating.
Her gloves had torn up and her knuckles were bleeding by the time she made it to the dirt, and she kept going. She's so close. She laughed a little in relief once she broke a dirt block, no, a grass block, and felt the fresh air of the outside drift onto her face. She had made it out.
The first thing she saw when she stepped up to the surface were those damned moons. They were starting to rise, and she flipped them off as she went back to the fake portal. She had been down there longer than she thought she had. She heard Winslow scurry after her, and slowed down so he could catch up. He looked at her and meowed, and she knows that he's trying to tell her that he's hungry. She is too, but that's not important right now.
Once at the false portal, she stops for a second before going down. She doesn't hear the portal, but maybe it's just silent, or she's too far away. It's been so long since she's last seen an activated one. She jumped down, and Winslow just watched. He doesn't want to go back down there today. Or maybe ever.
Cassie lands on the walkway connecting with the portal and she turns towards it. It isn't activated. She's too late. She runs up to it and punches it, some of her blood gets on the gold framing. "FUCK!" And then she screamed. Screamed at Jesse and their group. Screamed at Stampy, Dan, and Stacy for taking away the only chance she had to get out of here. Screamed at the portal. And screamed at those stupid two moons, which are still rising into the sky.
…
Cassie gives the salmon to Winslow and watches him eat it hungrily. One of the furnaces dings and she takes out her own salmon, cooked of course. She doesn't even bother getting a plate, she just sticks a fork in it to take it out and eats it straight from the utensil. She hears Winslow meowing, he wants what she's having too. She gives him another fish and he shuts up, the food satisfying him.
After Cassie gets done with her meal, she sets the fork on the counter and glares at the broken section of window where Jesse and their gang very rudely broke through it to get in instead of doing the polite thing and trying to get through the zombie hoard to the front door.
Another furnace dings and she takes the glass out of it. She makes glass panes out of it with a crafting table she made for this. She goes to the window and repairs it. The stars are still high in the sky, and she thinks about how this time last night she was positive nothing would get in her way. How she mourns for that woman now.
She goes to the Chef Creeper painting she put up in the room, removes it, and sets it against the wall adjacent to the secret entrance to the tunnels—in contrast to how Jesse rudely broke the paintings to access them instead. She goes in and Winslow follows after her, now done with his fish and satisfied. Cassie goes through her tunnels, and takes some detours through extra secret tunnels, in order to get to her main area.
Once there, she throws the remaining stack of fish to the floor, which all her cats eagerly go to. They must have been absolutely starving, good thing Cassie came back. She watches them eat, and can't help but think how cute all of them are. Winslow brushes up on her leg, and she bends down to pet him. The sight of her bloodied knuckles and of Winslow's unkempt pelt reminds her what else she needs to do tonight.
Once making sure that all her cats have been sufficiently fed, she goes back into the tunnels to go back into the main rooms of the mansion. She wishes she could get all of them out of that tiny room, but the mansion is still riddled with traps that she needs to disable. Wouldn't want any of her precious pets to die to one of them.
Cassie makes her way to a closet for some bandages, then to a washroom. It's tiny, only harboring a sink and a tub. She takes the ruined gloves off her hands, not very carefully, and drops them on the floor. She turns on the sink and washes off the dried blood all over the back of her palm and fingers, watching the water turn red as it passes over her hands. She figures she must have picked off a couple scabs as her knuckles were bleeding again.
That's okay, she just opens the bottle of soap sitting on the sink and pours some onto her bleeding knuckles. Yeah, it stings, and yeah, maybe it won't do much now that it's been a while, but better safe than sorry. She scrubs it in the best she could until the water washes it away. She turns off the sink, realizes she doesn't have any clean towels, and decides to use a bandage as a towel instead. Once her hands are dry, she bandages them up as best she could. One thing she's always hated about bandaging a wound on one one of her hands is that she only has the other hand to do it with.
She looks up into the mirror, and sees how dirty her clothing is, how messy her hair is, how much her glasses are crooked. She fixes her glasses and tries to messily finger comb her hair, but her fingers encountered too many knots so she gives up. She sighs, that'll be a problem for tomorrow her.
She exits the small room and goes to her bedroom. Yes, it's almost sunrise by now. No, she doesn't care about the risk of sleeping through the day. She's always been more of a night owl anyway. She doesn't even bother changing out of her current clothes, just throws herself on top of her bed.
She has no windows in her bedroom, but she can imagine the moons setting. Waiting just beyond the horizon to torment her again when she wakes up.
She really needs to fix her sleep schedule. Not tonight though. Tonight, she gets some much-needed sleep.
And when she wakes up, she'll get out of this world—one way or another.