Hello! Feel free to call me Azure! This story is just going to be a few chapters long. The idea came to me when I was playing Don't Starve Together with my friends a while ago. Allow me to explain this idea below.
You see dead bodies and some remains they left behind as you travel across your world, correct? Well, sometimes, I actually feel bad for taking the remains (whatever they may be). I know, it's weird, especially since the dead bodies don't belong to my friends. But then, this thought came to mind. "What if the spirits/souls of those dead bodies could somehow talk to [insert name of character]? And Maxwell would have no knowledge of it."
And, alas, this story was born from this thought! So basically, this story is just about Wilson, Willow, Wendy, and maybe a few others trying to survive together, and Wilson is asked to go gather some reeds in a far away swamp. Along the way, he encounters many dead bodies, and is tempted to take the remains.
The rest, I shall keep a secret ;) Hope you enjoy!
After a long, tiring night of having to act as lookout - with nothing ever happening - the dawn was finally here. The man, who had been resting against the alchemy engine, stood up, set his tentacle spikes down, and gave a stretch. Boy, did that feel good. Chester, who was now awake, happily bounced up to the man's side and was panting quietly. The man gave a smile at this, intriguing, creature's affection as bent down to ruffle the fur on Chester's head. "Do you want to help me with breakfast, Chester?" The man whispered to the creature, who gave a quick few jumps as if to say "Yes! I would love to!" as silently as possible to respect the others sleeping peacefully behind them.
Wilson Higgsbury crossed over to one of the iceboxes, and examined his contents. Lots of eggs, from the caged Azure bird they had caught during the previous winter, and quite a few morsels that were beginning to turn stale. He should probably use them up. "Eggs and bacon it is." Wilson mumbled before turning to Chester. "See that chest over there, boy? Go and get me some twigs. Go boy, go!" Chester hastily gave Wilson a lick on his cheek before doing as he was told.
The gentleman scientist, on the other hand, began to gather two eggs and a stale morsel, and promptly placed the ingredients in one of the many crockpots available. That crockpot was for his breakfast. He then began to place the same number of ingredients in the other crockpots - one breakfast for Willow, Wendy, and one for Wickerbottom. Cranky, picky old Wickerbottom. He hoped that this morning's breakfast would appetizing to her, well actually, appetizing for everyone, considering he was using stale meat as part of the recipe. Here in this world though, wasting food was a luxury they could not partake in. Besides, after a lot of hark work recently, Wilson felt that they could all use the protein.
At that moment, Chester came bounding up to the man, with a handful of twigs in his mouth. "Good boy, Chester! Here you go!" As a reward, Wilson decided to allow Chester to nom on his eye bone. Taking it out of his pocket, Wilson gave the eye bone to the creature, who retreated to a corner of the camp to play with it.
There was only one more thing to add to the crockpots before Wilson was ready to start cooking them. He placed one twig in each crockpot as a filler, and soon, the eggs and bacon were ready to start cooking. The scientist closed the lid of each crockpot, and lit a small fire underneath each pot. Now all he had to do was wait.
As the man was waiting, he heard some noises behind him, and saw that Wendy was the first one to wake up. The small girl walked up to him clumsily, rubbing an eye in her wake. "Good morning, Wilson..." She mumbled sleepily, and Wilson couldn't help but noting the sadness in her voice.
Yesterday, as everyone was fighting a few Tallbirds, Wendy's deceased sister Abigail had been defeated. Wendy watched in horror as Abigail's flower closed up once more. Ever since, the poor girl had been depressed and sulking, patiently waiting for Abigail's flower to bloom once more so that she could offer a sacrifice. Wilson felt terrible; a little girl shouldn't have to put up with this, especially sacrificing a living creature just to bring her ghost of a sister back. Perhaps Wilson could be the one to kill a rabbit or a bird as an offering. Then again, Wendy never seemed squeamish.
"What's for breakfast, Wilson?" Wendy asked him, and he saw that the sadness that was in her voice had vanished. The man mentally shrugged before focusing his gaze at the crockpots. "Eggs and bacon. I figured we could all use the protein." Wilson couldn't help but smile as Wendy's face lit up with excitement. Something along the lines of eggs and bacon were somewhat rare, as obtaining meat and eggs were getting a bit harder by the day.
"Really? Thank you Wilson!" The little girl gave the scientist a small hug, who then crouched down to about Wendy's height to hug her back. Wilson couldn't imagine himself trying to live in this place at Wendy's age, so Wilson felt strangely obligated to act as her guardian until they all could escape from this blasted place. Actually, everyone felt that way. Wilson acted as Wendy's father, while Willow acted as a mother. Even Wickerbottom felt the need to act as Wendy's grandmother in a sense. All in all, everyone felt and agreed that they need to support Wendy, and even her dead sister Abigail, who was beginning to warm up to everyone.
Wickerbottom was the next one to awaken, grumbling something to herself as Wendy and Wilson broke apart. "Good morning, Ms. Wickerbottom! We're having eggs and bacon for breakfast!" Wendy exclaimed cheerily as the old woman glared at the two. "How can an old woman get some sleep around here with you two talking up a storm?!" "Ms. Wickerbottom, you never sleep." Came the reply from Wilson, who couldn't help but give a look of slight sympathy. Wilson was surprised when Wickerbottom actually did fall asleep. But that was only about forty-five minutes, and she just woke up from her little nap.
The librarian gave a small growl, before taking a deep breath. "Eggs and bacon, huh? What's the occasion?" She asked, directing her beady eyes toward the man standing by the crockpots. "No reason... I just thought we could use the protein after all the hard work we've been doing." Wilson told her as innocently as possible. Even Wendy didn't know that the meat he was using was stale. They didn't need to know.
As Willow was rising from her spot by the campfire, Wickerbottom began rummaging through her chests, before giving a frown of dissatisfaction. "Wilson! Speaking of hard work, I need you to gather some reeds." The eggs and bacon had just finished up, so Wilson was in the midst of serving Wendy her meal as he threw a confused glance at the old woman. "We just got some reeds recently, didn't we?" "Are you talking back to me?!" Wickerbottom screeched as Wendy took her eggs and bacon and ran over to Willow, who was just waking up but could see that the poor girl was a bit frightened of the librarian.
The scientist rolled his eyes once Wickerbottom's back was turned. No use in arguing with her. She must of used the reeds he collected for papyrus to make her stupid books. Well, Wilson couldn't really call them stupid. They helped quite a bit when the crops were taking too long to grow, and their food stock was running low. But the books had too little durability for Wilson's liking.
"...Alright. Can I at least have my breakfast and stock up on food and other supplies before I leave? The swamp is pretty far away." His reply from the old woman was a "Bah!", which he assumed in grouchy old people language, was "Fine, do whatever you need to do". So, the scientist walked on over to Chester to take his eye bone. He was going to need the extra storage. Wilson hastily chowed down his breakfast of eggs and bacon, and packed some other meals for the trip. Finally, he gathered some more wood, brush, and twigs before heading out.
"I'll try and be back as soon as possible, alright? I won't fight anything or hunt anything unless absolutely necessary. The journey will most likely take a couple of days, but I believe you all can handle yourselves." Wendy was a bit forlorn, having to be separated from her father-figure for a little while, but she put up with it and offered him a smile. Wickerbottom gave a "Hurry up", but even Wendy could tell that the old woman was a bit worried for his safety. Willow's way of goodbye was a bit of a surprise for him. She gave him a fleeting hug, before gripping onto his shoulders and looking him dead in the eye. "Come back alive and well, please?" Wilson immediately gave a determined nod before leaving through the base's entrance. "I think he'll be okay." Wendy said, but Willow could only wonder.
Although long and far, the swamp was easy to find thanks to a pathway that led straight to it. It was a long and tedious walk, but Wilson enjoyed Chester's company. The two of them would walk for a few hours, then find a nice, comfy tree and rest in the shade. If he was up for it - and if he needed it - the scientist would go out to scavenge for berries or carrots or other easy, edible items.
All in all, the journey wasn't bad. He was never away from valuable resources, and if the hounds attacked, the path passed right through a pig village. Wilson could just lead the hounds astray and have them attack the pigmen instead. Even though he did feel slightly bad about it, he couldn't fight the increasing number of hounds by himself.
However, Wilson could already tell that this trip would be different than normal.
The distance from camp to the swamp was approximately 24 miles, with the scientist already about two miles closer. It was late morning when Wilson decided to take a short rest.
Two miles away from the camp, there is a large field with a little over a dozen ponds scattered about. It was here where everyone would take turns to catch fish for the camp, or collect lots and lots of frog legs for various recipes. A bit over to the left of the ponds was a small area that contained trees, berry bushes, saplings, and other materials.
The scientist led Chester over to a large birch tree, colored a vibrant scarlet due to the autumn season, and sat against the trunk. To allow Chester some relaxation, Wilson took out the eye bone from his backpack and handed it to the furry creature on his right. Chester happily accepted the item, and plopped down on the grass to gnaw on the strange bone.
As Chester chewed on the bone, Wilson examined it with a curious eye. Oh, how he would love to experiment on it! Where did it come from? Why was Chester attracted to it so much? Are there more of this peculiar bone? Many questions of this type swirled in Wilson's brain, and someone left him a bit more fatigued than he was previously. Dehydration, maybe? Not wanting to take any chances, the scientist dug into his backpack, and finally pulled out what looked like a canteen of some sort, fashioned from straw, bone fragments, and pig skin: a new invention, courtesy of Wilson, the gentleman scientist. Wilson hurriedly unscrewed the cap, and gave an inaudible sigh of relief as the cold liquid soothed his parched throat.
That's when something caught his eye: a glint from somewhere in the distance.
Being the ever curious person he was, the man screwed the cap back on the canteen and place it by his backpack. Standing up, he gave a stretch before grabbing his tentacle spike and avoiding the frogs to reach whatever it was that he saw. A little bit further away from the ponds than the other area was, he reached a grasslands that seemed to stretch for miles and miles. Ah, yes. Wilson remembered this place, but never really wandered that far into the savanna, as there was a smaller, but just-as-good savanna more closer to camp.
The familiar glint caught his eye once more, and picked up his pace to reach it quicker.
What he found, was the skeleton of someone who was obviously living before. This left the scientist slightly confused. As far as he knew, neither Willow, Wendy, nor Wickerbottom have died, and they most likely wouldn't have any important reason to lie to him about it. And Wilson himself would definitely know if he had died. This information led him to one conclusion: there must have once been other people on his island.
Alright; sure, he found the skeleton of some random person he never knew, but bones aren't shiny. What did he see that gave that glare of light? As if right on cue, the sparkle he knew came from the floor to his left. Bending over, he delicately picked up what seemed to be a necklace of sorts. It had a gold chain, with a large, circle-shaped pendant. Set in the pendant is what appeared to be a large ruby. Oh! Wilson had seen this before, and vaguely remembered it. It was a life-giving amulet; it will bring you back to life if you die while wearing it. This definitely will come in handy in the future!
Suddenly, Wilson was overcome with chills. Something, or someone, else was here. It didn't seem hostile, but in this world, the scientist was proven wrong more than enough times. It may be friendly for now, but one wrong move could make whatever it is turn against the man in an instant.
The scientist gathered his courage, and slowly turned around to see what was behind him.
What he saw, was some sort of ghastly apparition; a ghost.
Wilson wanted to scream, wanted to run, wanted to do SOMETHING, but his body refused to cooperate. His feet were cemented to the ground, and his voice gone like a fleeting whisper. But the ghost made no move to harm him. Once he was sure it was safe to move around, Wilson gave the ghost a closer inspection. He could vaguely depict male features from the ghost's face, and its hair - if he could call it that - looked short and spiky. The ghost also appeared quite young; perhaps he died young, and that's why he appeared this way.
The air was heavy with silence, and it was gradually making Wilson feel uncomfortable. He had to say something. "U-Um-" He started, but was suddenly cut off by the ghost.
"Poor lad. Stuck on this hellhole too, are ya?" The scientist was left momentarily surprised. He did not think ghosts could talk, but then again, he didn't think many things existed until he arrived here. Wilson then remembered that on this island, anything could be possible. Talking to a ghost? Sure.
"I-I guess..." Wilson said with a stutter, unsure of what else to say. Where exactly was this conversation headed?
The ghost of the man seemed to give a thoughtful hum, laced with sadness and pity. The scientist slowly felt the tension leave his body. This ghost gave the air of friendliness. And, from what it sounds like, it seems as though he was also a victim of Maxwell. One would think that because of this, he would bear no ill intentions to those stuck on the same boat. Unless the ghost appeared outraged that Wilson was still living while this man ended up dead. We'll see how things go. For now, however, Wilson could assume that this ghost can be trusted.
"Yeah, I remember when I first arrived 'ere. It was five years ago, can ya believe it? I still can't believe how I fell fer such an obvious lie." The ghost paused to shake his head at his own foolishness, as Wilson nodded his head in complete understanding. To this day, the scientist fumed over how he had allowed himself, a gentleman scientist, a man of logic and reasoning, to be so easily lured into Maxwell's trap. His thoughts were interrupted when the ghost spoke again.
"I died within a few days, 'cause of da hounds." Another pause, as the ghost... growled? Most likely due to frustration and hatred for Maxwell. Wilson then realized... that this man had been dead for nearly five years! Why hasn't he moved on?
"It seems like yer doin' purdy well, though. I 'pplaude ya fer that." The scientist, who just now noticed the ghost's strange accent, gave a simple shrug of his shoulders.
"I was alone for about two months or so, and was doing adequately well. Though gradually, I began to meet other people who are also stuck on the island. We all realized that if we wanted to survive, we had to join together and combine our knowledge, strength, and talents to help each other out. Everyone back at our camp has been a huge help to me and my inventions." "Yer inventions?" The ghost inquired, as Wilson spoke up to explain.
"Yes. I'm a gentleman scientist, you see. I'm always - well, I was - creating different inventions and performing numerous experiments before I came to the island. That's actually how Maxwell lured me here; he promised to give me some secret knowledge when I was having trouble with my experiments. I ended up building a machine, that ended up being a portal to this island. So... now I'm stuck here." When Wilson finished, the ghost began to glow red with anger, and Wilson flinched as if anticipating an attack. However, the ghost saw this, and immediately calmed down.
"Sorry fer frightn' ya. It has never been my intention to harm ya. Anyway, yer lucky that yer a scientist stuck on this damned island. Me? I'm just a farmer! Besides knowin' how ter grow crops 'n knowin' what I can eat and can't, I don' know anythin' else 'bout survival." The ghost of the man lazily drifted over to his skeleton and heaved a sigh.
Seeing the ghost by his skeleton reminded Wilson of a question he had wanted to ask much earlier. "Say, um, mister...?" He began, but stopped, not knowing what to call the ghost. "Ah, sorry. The name's Warner. Feel free ter call me that, since I'm only a ghost. Titles don't really matter ter me anymore." The scientist gave a nod to show that he understood, before picking up where he had last left off.
"Then, Warner, you've been dead for a little under five years. How come you haven't moved on yet? No offense." At this question, Warner took on a sorrowful expression.
"I told myself - well, actually, all da ghosts did - that we wouldn't move on 'til we encounter someone who's alive. So, speakin' of what we told ourselves..." The ghost's gaze fell on the live-giving amulet that Wilson had been holding in his hands for a while.
"Maxwell's greedy; we all knew dat he would gather more n' more victims. This island's his playground, and us, his toys - his puppets. As far as he knows, we spirits of da dead are exactly dat: spirits. Nothin' more. Can't talk, can't hold physical forms, none o' dat. However, we can, as yer seein' right now. And Maxwell, hopefully, doesn't know dat we can talk ta others and appear to ya as ghosts. So, all us ghosts agreed that we wouldn't move on 'til we aid da next livin' victim that comes across our remains. As part o' dat agreement, yer free ter take what we left bahind."
Wilson slowly began to put the pieces together, and soon, his gaze fell on the amulet as well. "So... you're saying that I... can keep this...?" The scientist asked haltingly, and saw Warner nod his head in confirmation.
"Das right. Take it, n' use it ter aid ya in livin'. Hopefully, 'cause it helped ya lived, it'll give ya another chance to take out Maxwell once n' fer all."
The scientist was left at a loss for words. These ghosts - who knows how long some of them have been here - had decided to wait until a live victim comes across their dead bodies, give them advice, and then offer the victims still alive what they left behind to help them. Wilson couldn't refuse their kindness, and wholeheartedly agreed: Maxwell must be taken down.
With a determined expression, Wilson graciously accepted the life-giving amulet. "Thank you for everything, Warner. You can leave it to me and everyone else." Warner's gaze softened upon hearing this, and looked very relieved.
"Good. Well... I've been waitin' fer five years now; I think it's 'bout time fer me ter retire." Warner closed his eyes, preparing to leave for the afterlife, but suddenly opened them once again.
"Ah, almost fergot... wos yer name?" He asked, and Wilson had no hesitations on giving it to him.
"It's Wilson. Wilson P. Higgsbury." The ghost gave another hum, before giving his last words.
"Wilson... Thanks a bunch." And like the wind, the ghost of Warner had disappeared for good.
Once Warner disappeared, Wilson peered down at the magical, golden amulet he held in his hands, and brought it close to his heart. The scientist closed his eyes, and began to think to himself.
Warner is absolutely right... Maxwell needs to go. It's an absolute miracle that I was able to find Willow, Wendy and Wickerbottom, who've been so helpful and protective of each other. Everyone only had themselves...
Wilson opened his eyes in surprise as he felt something hot and wet pooling in the corners of his eyes. Tears... The man couldn't even remember the last time he cried. However, Wilson wasn't going to deny the fact that he was crying. He had very good and understandable reasons to be crying right now. Those poor, poor people who were trapped here before he was. The scientist totally would have understood if they were enraged and would hate him considering how he has comrades to back him up and they never did. But instead, they decided to be kind and helpful to any alive victims that crossed their path, and chose to offer what they had left behind in order to aid them.
Their kindness will not be forgotten.
Now, the other reason, you might ask, why he he is crying? He couldn't believe it either. Yes, he was crying about Wendy and Willow and Wickerbottom back at the base.
He was crying for Wendy: the poor little girl who was already dealing with her dead sister, and now has to worry for her survival on a deserted and deadly island? Disgusting! Absolutely despicable on Maxwell's part! Although she never asked, Wilson had begun to notice that he was starting to act like a father for her. He fixed her meals (well, most of the time, he fixed everyone's meals), helped her with her hair, taught how to build things or taught her other knowledge about this world, and comforted her when she was feeling down. So, of course Wilson would be crying for her. Despite how horrid it sounded, he was thankful that she was here with him.
He was crying for Wickerbottom: the grouchy old lady with wisdom and knowledge that seemed practically endless. She almost never slept, and was a very picky eater, but Wilson was thankful for it. That's what made Wickerbottom, well... Wickerbottom. She always seemed to snap at the "youngsters" or the "darn whippersnappers", but he had a suspicion that the librarian did care for them... deep down... deep, deep down...
And he was crying for Willow: the young pyromaniac with a strange gentle side to her. Wilson was stunned when he found out, but couldn't deny it when he realized the growing feelings for her blooming in his heart. That's right, you know where this is going. For those who don't, Wilson had found out recently that he loved her. Despite being a scientist, he had to admit how clueless he was in this field. Wilson never really interacted with girls, much less anyone for that matter; being a gentleman scientist usually made one become strongly introverted. The only times Wilson ever saw a human being was when he went out to gather supplies for experiments, or for food and drinks. But that didn't mean he didn't know what love was. Wilson put together the pieces one day, and realization soon came crashing down on him. He loved her. He loved her silky raven hair, her wide eyes that held many mysteries, her gentle side, and even her disturbing love for fire. He loved all of it. And realizing his feelings didn't stop him from interacting with her either; in fact, it just made him more protective of her. He was always willing to sacrifice himself if necessary in times of danger, with the only regret being that he would not be there for her and others if he did die. So, he had to make sure he was very prepared whenever he went out.
Like now, for example.
With the back of his free hand, Wilson wiped the tears away and glared at the sky. It was only mid afternoon, and he still had a long journey ahead of him.
Hello! Azure again! I must confess: this story was originally going to be a one-shot, but as I wrote, this theme just didn't seem to be a one-shot. So, a longer story with more chapters it is!
While waiting for my next update, how reading my best friend's Don't Starve stories instead? They're INCREDIBLE! Her fanfiction name is "Ignescent". Please check out her stories!
Until next time everyone!