Demons is the third chapter of my seventeenth fanfiction, "Return of the Lancer". This chapter has some action towards the beginning. It's been a while since I've had some good action in a chapter, hasn't it? I hope you enjoy this chapter.
This chapter gets kind of emotional pretty quickly. Harold reveals something that he will never forgive himself for.
Harold left Ancrya, and went back to Yharnam. He was heading back to his house when he was approached by 3 teenagers wearing bandanas and carrying knives. They wanted to rob Harold, not knowing who he was since he was wearing his hood. He wasn't intimidated by them.
Harold: You look like you're up to no good. You probably don't know who I am, but I can tell you that I am the last person in the entire world that you would want to piss off. Please, leave me in peace.
They were not convinced. Harold wasn't carrying any weapons with him, but he didn't need any. When the first bandit charged at Harold with his knife, Harold side-stepped to the left, dodged the knife, grabbed the bandit's wrist, and twisted it. He dropped his knife, grabbed his wrist, fell to the ground, and screamed in pain. The second bandit had two knives, but that didn't help him at all. He charged Harold, jumped up, and prepared to stab him with both knives. Harold barely dodged the attack with a side-step to the right. He pulled the bandit's mask off, punched him in the face, then kicked him in the stomach. Upon seeing that his friends had just been beaten by an old man, the third bandit dropped his knife, and ran away. He ran into a dark alleyway, and Harold saw a dark figure attack him. Harold could tell that it was a woman, but couldn't see her face. He knocked the bandit out, looked at Harold, and walked out of the shadows. It took Harold a while to realize who she was. It was Plague's daughter, Eleanor.
Eleanor: For an old man, you can fight surprisingly well. Uncle Harold.
Harold: Eleanor. Wow. You've really grown up. I almost didn't recognize you.
She hugged Harold.
Harold: I'm sorry about James. That's terrible.
Eleanor backed away. She didn't like the sound of Harold's statement.
Eleanor: Why are you sorry? James's death wasn't your fault.
Harold: If I had been there, I could have saved him. I still hate myself for not being able to save your parents.
Eleanor: Harold, don't blame yourself.
Harold's voice started cracking. He was clearly upset.
Harold: I loved your parents, Eleanor. Plague was like a brother to me. Amelia was a close friend. James was kind of a jackass, but he was my friend. They all died while I was away. I blame myself for their deaths. I'm sorry. I can never forgive myself for this.
Eleanor: There's nothing to be sorry about.
Harold kissed her on the forehead.
Harold: I love you, Eleanor. If you ever need me, I'll always be there for you. I don't plan on going away again anytime soon.
Eleanor: Thank you, Harold.
Harold: I have to go. Have a good day.
Harold returned home, and his family wasn't there. He went into the kitchen, and got some bread to eat. He looked at his clock, and it was 10:35 in the morning. He couldn't remember when he had woken up. He ate his snack, sat down at his desk, and picked up one of his many books. He started reading, and time seemed to quickly pass. When it was 11:20, he put the book down, and left the house. He went to the fort, and Pale, Hajvarr, and his family were there. They went into the chapel.
Pale: Want to sit in your old chair, Harold?
Harold: Not really. It's your chair now.
Pale: Very well.
Everybody sat down at the table. Harold took off his hood, and took a deep breath.
Harold: So. Did anything interesting happen while I was away?
Hajvarr: Not really. Aside from the Iron Reapers getting destroyed, nothing out of the ordinary happened.
Harold: Fair enough.
Pale: We want to disband the Iron Lancers. This organization is losing its purpose.
Henriett: I agree.
Jack: I don't have a problem with that.
Lydia: Neither do I.
Pale: Then we will disband.
She slammed the gavel into the table, and everybody stood up. They all went home. Upon returning home, Harold heard the voices in his head again. This time, however, it didn't drive him insane.
Do you like it when I end chapters in cliffhangers? I think that I am getting progressively worse at ending chapters, but that's just me. Tell me what you think in the comments. Have a good day.
Was it emotional when Harold told Eleanor that he will never forgive himself for Plague, Amelia, and James’s death? I think so.