Broken Haven

Chapter 7

The next two days that followed Hans and Rosalie's little day out were anxious times for everyone in the village. This was in fact the closest sighting yet, of Madnight in the area. Hans had made sure to notify the people of Thoramore that danger was closer than they thought at breakfast, before Jethro had even had a chance to speak a word. Work on the walls had come to an end; I could go into detail but as we all know... No one cares! Who seriously wants to hear about placing premade walls for a couple of hours? We don't do that at watching-people-trapped-inside-a-game-slowly-dying-for-our-viewing-pleasure Inc. Yes, I've trademarked that.

Though there were walls, the villagers still needed actual combat training, in order to defend themselves from oncoming attackers. They had to be prepared to fight back, injure, and even take a life, if the time ever called for it; this was evermore becoming a reality.

Ethan was feeling OK to once again walk. The group had found that the healing process was somewhat sped up; though saying that, it wouldn't be the best idea to let him leave the walls with just one arm; but hey, at least he can walk himself down to breakfast. Speaking of breakfast, that's where we meet our losers... No wait. We meet our LOSERS. Better? Better.

We meet our LOSERS at breakfast. Hans, Rosalie, Alex, and Jose took it upon themselves to start some form of training routine for the townsfolk. Tables were scattered around the tavern messily as cutlery clinked on plates and mouths opened and closed, creating orderly noise.

Hans found comfort in the sounds emanating from within the room as he dug into his morning meal. It felt homey somewhat, having so many people around him. Hans wasn't exactly used to waking up and being surrounded by so many people, so soon and so consistently. The morning was starting to feel like much more of a pleasure than a burden to awake to.

Besides Hans, sat Ethan on the left, with Rosalie on the end of the table; on the right sat Hazel, followed by Alex on the opposite end of the table. Jose placed himself in front of Hans abruptly, pulling the chair across the floor with no care as it scraped along the wooden boards. Hans jumped out of his skin hearing the noise so viciously cut the ambience that currently filled the room. "Sorry I'm late. I do sincerely apologise." He mocked.

"Maybe you'd have been here earlier if you'd got up with everyone else." Hans complained.

"Maybe I was tired." Jose replied.

"We don't feel tired. It's just another bar... Oh wait. It's gone." Hans replied.

"Oh my god, it has." Alex jumped in.

"Oh you're joking That's just what we need." Hans sighed and he slammed his fork into the table.

"Honestly this game keeps getting better." Alex mocked.

"Someone's trying to torture us." Hans came to the realisation.

"Hans please calm down." Rosalie tried to handle the situation with a lack of results.

Hans raised his fist up to the sky, keeping his elbow in contact with the table; in his hand he held a fork. He clenched onto the tool, trying his best not to freak out. It was clear to Hans that this world was only just going to keep getting tougher and more impossible to exist inside of. In Hans's mind, he didn't see it as 'just a small act', instead he saw that the torture wasn't going to stop, and that every single time he considered himself safe and settled, the game would come along to rip that feeling away from him.

Everyone at the table closely observed Hans, staring with worry. He didn't intend to scare anyone; but he couldn't control his actions. The raised arm burst into action. Hans lifted his elbow off the table and pulled his arm back, then thrusted it forwards.