Otto I

The bushes rustled ever so gently under the faint gleam of the moonlight, their silver leaves swaying in the darkness. Otto tightened his grip on the spear and brandished it against the darkness, against the thing. He scarcely dared to move, let alone breathe.

Suddenly the bushes parted to make way for a great white wolf, ghostly pale under the night sky. The one from before, Otto realized. He froze as the beast swept its head across his little camp. It had already spared him once. Is it too much to ask that it should do so again?

By his measure, the wolf stood up to his chest. It was huge. The beast had luminous white fur as pure as freshly fallen snow, and eyes of liquid gold that meant it was no albino. By any indication, the wolf was male; thick of limb with a jaw like steel. It completely dwarfed what Otto's brain told him wolves should look like. The massive beast turned to stare straight at him and growled; a deep rumble that made every single one of his hairs stand on-end. The wolf's icy glare remained locked on him as it advanced towards the fire. Otto had a feeling he couldn't deny it a place in his camp even if he tried, the results of which would undoubtedly yield his death.

Those eyes of molten gold darted from Otto to the plump bird at his feet and back to him again. Otto had an idea, though it might get him killed all the same. His left hand reached down with exaggerated lethargy, while his right still tightly gripped the spear. He clutched the massive bird by the neck and lifted it to his chest, level with the wolf. He shook it slightly and the golden eyes followed. The beast made another step in his direction, teeth bared and hackles raised. Before it could get any closer, Otto tossed the chicken with all his might.

The bird tumbled across the dirt, stirring up a small cloud of dust in the process. It rolled to a stop by the outskirts of his camp, balanced between light and darkness, life and death. The wolf snarled at Otto before darting around and leaping after the dead fowl. It snapped at the chicken, blood staining its muzzle red.

Suddenly, the wolf paused and glanced back over its shoulder at Otto. It growled before bending forward and closing its jaws around the half-finished meal. The wolf padded over, a silent white shadow against the black night. It settled down next to the fire with its chicken, taking smaller bites than before and watching Otto the whole while.

When the wolf remained motionless for a long time, Otto cautiously reached for his own bird, which was still hanging from the spit. A cold sweat ran down his back despite the heat of the fire. He was not happy to have brushed with death again for the third time this day.

The chicken was cool so Otto bit into it, grease trickling down his chin. The wolf lifted its snout from its own meal and sniffed at him but otherwise remained still. They seemed to have reached a truce. The wolf wasn't going to kill him, at least not yet. Man and beast sat on opposite ends of the fire, eating birds both cooked and raw in silence. When the wolf was finished, it curled up and kept a respectful distance. Unfortunately, it seemed intent on staying by the flames.

Otto sighed and began piling a lump of soft grass to lay on. The wolf glanced at him curiously. When Otto was finished, he flopped onto his green cot and peered back at the wolf. The two lay there, staring at each other until Otto's eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

When Otto awoke, the fire was burnt out and the wolf was gone. Luckily, he was completely unharmed. The wolf had not attacked him in his sleep. Otto took that as a sign. He was still hungry though. The second chicken from last night had been meant for him, but anytime he traded a meal for his life was a good day. The fire was a pile of smouldering coals, though a few still flickered faintly in the golden morning rays. Otto drank from the brook, taking deep gulps of the cool water. Afterward, he grabbed his spear and set out for the beach.

Not much had changed. The flock of fat chickens from yesterday were still strutting about the coastline, but Otto noticed a handful of new creatures as well. Grazing leaves and patches of grass from the outskirts of the jungle was a massive lizard that lumbered about on four legs, thick as trees. As the beast slowly shambled around, each step sent up clouds of dust and small tremors through the ground. The reptile towered over Otto by at least twice his height. It had two rows of bony plates along its back, starting from its shoulders and running all the way down to a long, powerful tail. The lizard had a small head, no bigger than Otto's own, and a beak that it used to forage for greens. Four pairs of long, sharp white spines gleamed dangerously on either side of the beast's tail as the powerful appendage swung back and forth. It snorted at Otto as he approached but otherwise ignored him, more interested in the ferns lining the beach.

Shuffling with their snouts to the ground were two huge round pigs. Both were as tall as Otto, and easily twice as wide. They each had a pair of short blunt tusks on either side of their heads, more useful for digging up roots than combat. Both boars had dull grey hides dotted with small round spots; one of them as pink as the evening sky, the other green as the jungle. The ungainly beasts kept their heads to the ground; snorting, grunting and pawing at the dirt. They only lifted their heads occasionally to scan the beach with small, beady eyes. Neither spared him so much as a second glance. Otto hiked past the two round swines, more concerned about the dull ache from his stomach.

As he strolled past a grove of leafy bushes, Otto noticed the yellow berries he had discovered yesterday. He decided to experiment whether they could be eaten or not. Otto had a feeling that a diet strictly composed of meat would not be good for him. Earlier today, he had noticed that the bushes by his camp held clusters of red berries, not unlike the yellow ones in his hand now. They shared a shape and texture, though differed in colour and location. Otto suspected that they were closely related.

He knelt next to a fat blue chicken and offered it one of the yellow berries. The bird waddled toward him at full speed and scooped the treat into its mouth. The chubby fowl squawked at him for more so Otto obligingly fed it the rest of the berries from his palm. When they were all gone, he stepped back into the shade to watch for results. The bird clucked in confusion and wobbled after him, pecking at his hand. When the blue chicken realized there were no berries left, it went back to scratching at the sand. Otto settled on a nearby rock, fashioning himself a second spear while watching the bird out of the corner of his eye. When nothing happened for a long time he knew the berries were safe to eat.

Otto returned to the bushes and plucked a yellow berry for himself. He popped it into his mouth and was met by a sweet, juicy flavour. Raiding the bush of its treasures, Otto picked more berries and threw them in his mouth. By the time he was done, his chin was stained with sticky yellow juices from the sweet berries. Otto felt very satisfied that he had discovered a new food source. His hunger was sated for now, but he still had lunch and dinner to consider. Additionally, if the wolf returned to his fire he would need to have meat handy lest he become the meal. Otto speared two large chickens, though not the blue one he made sure. He was quite fond of that bird now. Otto was making his way back to camp when he noticed a commotion from down the beach.

The fat chickens were screeching and flapping, retreating from the jungle and heading for the massive lizard with the spiked back. The huge beast stamped, bellowed, and snorted, swinging its tail menacingly. Otto quickly pinned the source of their distress. Lurking in the shadows were the two frilled lizards from yesterday, snapping angrily at the birds they could not reach because of the giant spiked behemoth. The predators hissed in frustration but knew better than to risk getting hit by the spiky tail.

Just then, Otto realized with alarm that there was a third lizard in the bushes. He would never have noticed the beast except for its ring of orange frills that he had mistaken for a flower. The orange lizard stayed perfectly still, watching the other two with cold reptilian eyes. It was smaller than its kin; at least a head shorter than the female.

The third lizard slid out of the bush so slowly that Otto blinked to make sure he wasn't imagining things. The orange frills fanned out, slow as a sunrise. The beast only started hissing softly a moment later as it stalked toward a pig. Otto watched, entranced by the strange creature. When the lizard was within biting distance, it released a dark glob of spit straight at the hog's eyes. The pig reared back squealing, and tossed its head back and forth, trying to shake the venom from its vision.

The orange lizard struck, its sharp claws digging into thick hide. The pig wailed and leaped away, retreating down the beach as fast as its stubby legs would allow. The deep red gouges raked across its round flanks were bleeding profusely. The hog bellowed and squealed, blind and bleeding. The orange lizard kept pace, snapping and clawing, guiding it toward the flock.

No, not the flock Otto realized. The clever little hunter was guiding it toward the huge spiked lizard. The fat chickens screeched and scattered but the massive lizard snorted and stood its ground. The behemoth shifted its tail to strike the incoming creature. The small orange lizard hissed again, snapping to the right. The pig turned left, heading straight for the sharp, spiky tail. The huge lizard bellowed once again but the pig remained on course, flying straight as an arrow.

With a mighty snap, the huge tail slammed right into the pig. The round mammal stumbled to the ground and rolled to a stop, blood spilling across the previously clean beach. The giant spiked lizard snorted once again, red spikes swaying. Otto winced at the collision. The small orange lizard chirped with delight and ran to the downed pig. It lay squealing on the ground, blind and bleeding from a dozen cuts, with four massive holes gouged deep in its side. The lizard bit swiftly, its sharp teeth sinking into the thick neck. Otto watched the life draining out of the pig's eyes, so much like water draining into the ground. The orange lizard began tearing into the tender flesh, but before it could even eat so much as a morsel, the other two frilled lizards charged with a fearsome hiss.

The pair had also watched the smaller hunter take down a pig over five times its own size while they hadn't been able to make a single kill. The duo snapped angrily, frills unfolding and jaws unhinging. The small orange lizard snapped back obstinately, but no matter how clever it was, when it came down to brute strength it was no match for either of them, let alone both. The orange lizard gave one final defiant hiss to save its pride and then fled from the corpse. The victorious pair began feasting on the orange lizard's kill. The small hunter hung its head low and trudged down the beach in defeat.

Otto felt bad for the creature, being bullied around by the larger two. It had used wits and clever thinking to win a hard-earned prize and the others had taken it simply because they were bigger and stronger. The world was truly harsh and cruel. Otto pried a chicken off his spear and tossed it on the ground, a few steps in front of the frilled lizard. The beast immediately snapped its head up and locked eyes on the chicken. They darted to Otto and narrowed in suspicion then back to the bird. It took a cautious step forward, watching him the whole time. Otto stayed completely still as the frilled lizard looked him over. When it was satisfied, the beast reached down and grabbed the bird, quick as a snake. The lizard turned tail and darted away into the trees.

Otto could not spear any more of the birds. They were huddled beneath the behemoth's giant spiky tail, still dripping blood. Otto was loath to risk getting struck by the massive appendage, so instead, he headed back to the camp. He could survive on a chicken leg and there were always berries to be found in the bushes. Otto was just walking along the outskirts of the jungle when something caught his eye. He could see a white gleam, half hidden behind large green leaves. Otto hefted his spear and pushed through the undergrowth.

Laying in the dirt was a bone. Not just any bone, he realized with horror. A human bone. The skeletal joint was part of a ribcage, which had clearly been slashed by heavy claws. There were two scrawny arms on either side of its chest; one hand tightly gripped around a makeshift hatchet, the other clutching a worn leather book. And the jaw was wide open, the skull locked in an eternal scream. All the flesh had long since rotted away and the eyes were two pitch black voids. This person, whoever they were, had been dead for a long time. Otto examined the ancient treasures clutched in the skeleton's hands. The axe was no more than a sharp stone and brittle stick held together by a piece of crumbling twine. Otto had a feeling it would break on the first swing. The other bony hand clutched a dusty book bound in leather. Otto leaned closer and brushed the dust off its cover.

Dossier, it read. The skeleton wouldn't need the book so Otto attempted to pry it from the bony fingers. The skeleton had a surprisingly strong grip. In the end, he resorted to smashing the fingers off with the broken axe head. Before Otto left, he covered the body with a bunch of leaves and tossed some loose dirt over the pile. He jammed a broken branch into the mound.

Otto retreated from the jungle with haste. Whatever had been the cause of the skeleton's demise might still be lurking, hungry for another meal. And if not that exact beast, there were always plenty of other monsters lurking in the shadows. Otto ran and only slowed down when his camp was within sight. From here, he could easily notice approaching enemies. He jammed both spears into the dirt and drank from the brook, taking long gulps. He picked a pile of red berries from a bush, settled back into the shade of the small cliff and started reading his newly acquired book.

Otto opened the Dossier and leafed through its contents. The first page held a half-finished map of an island. The bottom, western and eastern side of the land mass were sketched with detail, mountains and forests clearly mapped. Toward the centre and up toward the north though, the map began to fade. Only the barest trace of a mountain was illustrated in the top left corner and the centre was completely blank. Whoever had made the map hadn't been able to finish it for whatever reason.

Otto began to flip through the pages, all of which contained detailed illustrations of various creatures and names next to them. The pictures came accompanied by text; observations, opinions, and inferences about the creature by whoever had crafted the book. Otto turned through the Dossier looking for creatures he recognized. He paused on a worn-out page which contained a dark grey bird that he mistook for a fat beach chicken. He quickly noticed that it was more angular, had sharp claws, larger wings and was far larger than the stubby birds from the beach. If the text could be believed, it ranged from eight to twelve feet tall. Otto shuddered at the thought of this monstrosity towering over him. The name next to it read Terror Bird. He certainly knew that this was one creature he never wanted to meet.

A few pages later, Otto paused on an illustration of a huge wolf with fur like misty grey fog. Direwolf. It towered over the man sketched next to it by at least a head. The notes described the beast as a dedicated pack hunter, fast, strong, agile and able jump surprising distances. Otto was sure that his mysterious friend, the huge white wolf, was a Direwolf. The book said that Direwolves hunted in packs, though the one Otto had seen was by itself. Curiously, the white Direwolf had only reached his chest whereas the man in the picture stood as tall as the wolf's chest. The beast Otto was familiar with was not fully grown, and for some reason had no pack either.

Otto continued flipping until he stopped at a page labelled Dodo. This was definitely the bird from the beach; it was plump and round of beak with weak little wings and small talons. Otto already knew most of the information in the notes. The birds were slow and dumb, hunted by almost every predator on the island. The author of the journal noted that they mated constantly. Whoever had written the Dossier was fairly certain that the birds reached full maturity within a week of hatching. Otto supposed that made sense. How else could the species survive despite being the easiest prey on the island?

Another page held a frilled lizard, like the ones from the beach. Dilophosaurus, the book called them. Otto tried to say the name, the word queer on his tongue. He gave up after a few tries, settled to simply call it a Dilo, and read through the notes on the beast. The Dilophosaurus was described to have a very shrill call and a decorative ridge of skin on its neck. The beast often spit venom to blind or injure prey before going in for the kill. The Dilo also tended to flee from any carnivores bigger or stronger than itself, but were quick to attack weaker prey. Most of what the Dossier said matched what Otto already knew.

By now, the sky was a tender pink. Otto grabbed some kindling and began setting up the campfire. He snapped his flint shards against each other and sparks flew. This time he got the fire started on his first try. Otto wasn't very hungry after eating the berries from earlier, so he broke off a Dodo leg and plucked it bare. The process was much faster than cleaning the whole bird. He stuck the meat on his wooden spit and returned to flipping through the Dossier as his morsel cooked.

One wrinkled page held a picture of the massive spiked lizard with the plates along its back. Stegosaurus it was named. It had sixteen paired rows of bony plates along its back. Along its tail were four pairs of long spikes that the book made a point of avoiding. The Dossier also mentioned how Stegosaurus came to the defence of others of its kind and sometimes travelled in herds. However, the behemoths were usually strong enough to travel alone because many predators from the beaches and plains were smaller than them.

The sky was an inky black by the time he found the last creature he wanted to read about. He was just looking at the giant pig, the Phiomia, when he heard a bark and raised his head toward the sound. The white Direwolf gracefully stalked into the clearing, its fur gleaming silver under the moonlight. The wolf looked at Otto expectantly so he tossed the beast a Dodo and it sat down, crunching on the fat bird. Otto left his Dossier by the fire and got up to pick berries from the jungle bushes that bordered his camp. He stripped a handful from the darkness, his hand probing the unknown.

As he returned to the fire, the Direwolf sat up and began growling at him. He edged back nervously and the wolf snarled, rising to bite. Otto quickly realized his fatal mistake: he had abandoned his spear by the fire. Curse my rash thinking, he had time to remark. The wolf leaped to its feet and charged at him.

Otto dropped to his left so fast that his head struck a stone. His skull throbbed and he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth from where he had bitten his tongue. The berries flew from his palm and rolled all over the ground. Otto scrambled on the dirt, grabbed a sharp rock, and whirled around to face his assailant.

But surprisingly the wolf wasn't turning to attack him. Instead, the huge beast was snarling at the bushes that Otto had been picking berries from. He got back up curiously, but the great Direwolf did not so much as glance back at him. The beast was barking fiercely at the darkness. And then something screeched back. It was a blood-curdling cry; shrill and primal, lusting for blood.

The wolf snarled at the bushes again and whatever was hiding in them snapped twice more before receding into the darkness. The huge wolf barked at the bushes for a long time, then finally stalked back to its unfinished Dodo. The great white beast snatched the dead bird up and moved to the other side of the campfire, opposite from the berry bush. The whole time it never even spared Otto a glance.

The Direwolf went back to chewing on its half-eaten bird casually, as if nothing had happened. Occasionally its fur would bristle and the beast would shift tensely, as if to leap. It never did though, and luckily the thing from the bushes never returned either.

Otto cautiously retreated to his rock, too nervous and unsettled to care about the berries strewn all over the floor. There was no way he was going back to pick more. He snatched the Dodo meat hanging over the fire and bit into its tender flesh. As Otto chewed, he grabbed his meagre possessions and retreated as far as possible from the bushes without intruding on the wolf's space.

The great beast shifted and raised an eye to watch him, but did not chase him away. Otto finished his Dodo leg and tossed it into the darkness. He clutched his spear tight with one hand and the Dossier with his other. Eventually, he settled back into a restless grey sleep.

Author's Note:

themusher11, Tall-Gothic-Guy, Jason565 thank you for the support, your comments are very appreciated.

TheJaiganticBridge, thank you for the support and taking the time to point out my mistakes. Though Otto is pretty tall (around 6'2 or 6'3 in my head) the sizes of the Dodos and Dilophosaurus were very poorly judged on my part. I will be sure to put more research into my story and make sure the character doesn't try to eat half his own body weight in food again.

NightWyvern91792, thanks for the support and yes, I did not include the specimen implant/inventory system intentionally. I wanted to make my story as realistic as possible.

Thanks for taking the time to check out my first fanfiction and sorry for the dull chapter. The next one will have more action, I promise. And thanks to everyone who left a comment, they were very helpful and motivating. I will try my best to upload every Friday. Feel free to comment, ask question or criticize my story, review is always welcome. And if you like what you saw, make sure to check out the other ARK: Survival Evolved fanfictions out there. Have a great rest of your day or night.

-DaRumpyBurr