Most mornings, were crisp and fresh.
Bust that didn't excuse what the true hell of this world was, it may seem to be a nice camping spot to someone, but the reality was trying to live a nice peaceful life was impossible. This island was covered with giant spiders, pigmen, murderous merms, plants with eyes that will attack anything that goes near them, trees that attack for chopping one too many down that will only cease if you were to plant more. That's just a small amount of how many other things will kill you.
Wilson, an unfortunate victim of Maxwell's endless onslaught of torture, was waking up to a normal day in this hell Maxwell tricked him into and was going to explore after he got his early morning breakfast from the crock-pot, it was just some meatballs, nothing to odd to him, nothing was really odd to him anymore, when you get trapped in a world like this you don't seem to find anything to abnormal, the mandrakes are just something that seem like a fly compared to someone in the real world right now, Wilson was just finishing his breakfast when he heard the howling, so he picked up his dark sword and prepared for the oncoming battle with the hounds, for the millionth time.
Later that day Wilson heard the ground shaking, this is odd, Wilson thought. What was this rumbling? It wasn't winter so it wasn't the deerclops, so what was this noise exactly? He decided to go and check if he could see anything from the shore, this took about two ours even with the walking cane being held this took a while. When he got there his jaw dropped in awe, another island was coming closer, and closer, and closer. "What the hell" Wilson almost said to himself after finding his voice. Whatever this was, Wilson knew this was happening for a reason, since islands don't just move by themselves, this was Maxwell's latest plan to try and end his life after long and horrendous torture, yet again.
And so, Wilson thought, The demon strikes again