There was a knocking at the door. Then, it became a loud thumping. It shuddered under the weight of many blows and an unsettling groan slipped through the woodworks.
"Oh great," Xeno muttered, "another one. Do we really have to stay up all night doing this?"
"You could just go to bed," Scott said.
"Yeah, yeah," Xeno said as he grabbed the wooden sword he'd made earlier from the table, "and be eaten alive?"
"The door's sturdy enough, it'll hold."
"Well, when you wake up without a face don't come screaming to me," he said, walking to the door.
"I am pretty sure I would be dead at that point but okay, sure," Scott said, yawning in the wooden chair. "You know, this thing is pretty uncomfortable."
"Wow, thanks. Hey, I have an idea. I can live in the house I built, and you can go get chased by zombies."
"I have a bow and you don-"
The thumping grew three times louder, banging at almost every second, with multiple eerie groans consuming the poorly built wooden house.
"Hey, when I open the door, can you help kill them?" Xeno said.
"I was just going to go to sleep but that works too," Scott picked his bow up from the floor and notched an arrow.
Scott stood up and set his eyes on the shaking door.
"Here we go.."
Xeno ripped the door open and four zombies stumbled inside, blood oozing from cuts in their greenish-gray flesh. Their eyes started ahead, empty, with one of the zombies at the back, peculiarly, having a blue slime stuck on its head.
An arrow impaled the first zombie in the chest with a loud twang. Xeno glanced back at Scott and then stepped back. He positioned his sword and struck the zombie in the gut when it came into range. As he pulled out the bloodied sword, a zombie grabbed his arm. Crap! He kicked it in the shin and stabbed at it but it swiped his blade to the ground, where it clattered uselessly.
Just as Xeno thought he was a goner, the zombie's neck became a bloody waterfall, an arrow impaled into one of its veins.
"Shut the door! Shut the door!" Scott yelled.
Xeno slammed the door shut but it was thrown back, crashing into his head. The pain seemed to split him in half like somebody had taken axe to his skull. The room became blurry and started to shift. Dizziness overtook him and he lost control and slammed into the table. He had enough of a mind to crawl over to the other side of the house, away from the approaching enemies.
"Are you okay?" Scott asked.
"Not really, but I'll make it." As the pain mitigated and the room became clearer, he managed to discern that the door was now closed - probably by Scott. The banging continued, with each additional spike of noise feeling like a hammer was being thrown at his head. Xeno sat down and Scott took a seat opposite him. Scott, or 'the guide', as he called himself, looked to be in about his twenties or thirties. He had slightly scruffy light brown hair, along with eyes of the same color. He had on a shirt with a color that Xeno couldn't quite name - was it light gray or very light green? Were his shoes black or was that an illusion? Was he really having an existential crisis over the color of Scott's clothes?
Scott's shoes were definitely black. He also had on a pair of light blue pants that were slightly torn at the hem, most likely from the scuffle with the zombies, (which, by the way, were still banging on the door).
Xeno leaned back in his chair. Maybe the guy was a little full of himself. but he had been rather helpful.
Xeno had been shaken awake on the grass with a terrible headache. He had had no idea where he was and no recollection of how he had gotten there. You're lucky you're still alive , Scott had said as he helped him up from the ground. He had no idea what that meant, but throughout the day it became much more apparent that this land of 'Terraria' was more dangerous than the tranquil forest he woke up in had led him to believe. Scott told him about terrible beasts that lived in distant lands and gargantuan monsters that could kill even the most powerful of people. Even the slimes, which looked docile at first, proved to be a dangerous foe - they were a nuisance, at least. Not to mention the zombies, which were still banging on that door.
"I got two of them with my bow - the others... well, they're still out there," Scott said.
Scott took a few coins from his pocket and placed them on the table.
"Three silver coins... I collected 'em from those zombies. Might be useful for something."
"There's nothing to buy," Xeno murmured.
"That might change - who knows?" Scott replied.
"Right. Well, now what?"
"I'd say sleep but honestly those zombies are too loud to get any rest. "
"Yeah, I guess so," Xeno replied as he looked around the house he had built only a few hours before. It wasn't a very big structure - it was only one room. After leaving space for the doors to open inside, it would probably wouldn't fit much more. The chair he had cut from logs was not the most comfortable thing in the world. The table itself was a bit shabby and he knew he would probably get a splinter from it at some point. The workbench he had built, - the first piece of furniture he had ever constructed - was shorter than the table and stood off to the side, to the right of the door that stood behind Scott.
Xeno's back ached from the long day of work. At either end of the building were wooden doors, which seemed to hold the zombies out well despite the incessant barrage of attacks, which happened to still be going on with no signs of stopping. There were no windows in the house, so he could only guess what was going on outside. There was no moonlight or stars to illuminate the room. Instead, a few torches lit the room up with a warm - albeit dim - glow. While the glow seemed toasty, the room itself was not. A cold draft blew in from under the doors, but, of course, Xeno could do nothing but shiver and hope for daytime to come sooner. It wasn't the best home, but it was a home. Home, sweet home.