Warning: blood/gore

Otto II

The morning had dawned clear and warm, with gentle gusts of wind that stirred the grass like a great green sea. Otto Weiss groggily blinked to life, shielding his eyes from the golden glare of the sun. The Direwolf was gone again and there were berries littered haphazardly all over the ground. Otto was startled from his thoughts by a loud squawk.

A portly blue Dodo gently pecked at his hand before it waddled over to a cluster of berries, scooping the juicy treats from the ground with its large round beak. Otto recognized it from his encounter on the beach yesterday. He smiled at the chubby bird and reached for the bushes to offer it a fresh handful of berries. Suddenly everything that happened last night came back in a flash.

Otto snatched his hand away with a wince and pressed his back to the cliffside, his heart pounding. When he was sure it was safe, Otto cautiously stood back up and snatched a spear from the dirt. The Dodo would just have to make-do with whatever was on the ground.

Otto offered a few squishy red berries to the chubby bird. The blue Dodo gobbled them up eagerly, scouring the camp clean of the scarlet treats. When it was done, the Dodo gave one last cheerful honk and waddled back down to the beach to rejoin its flock. Otto was watching it leave when he noticed the present it had left behind. He had thought it to be a stone at first but it was lighter; a dull grey like morning mist flecked with dark round spots.

Otto picked the egg up carefully, the smooth treasure surprisingly heavy and barely able to fit in his hand. He got an idea and walked over to the fire, gently setting the egg on the floor. With a thick branch, he excavated a small hole in the dirt and brushed the coals from his old fire into the pit. Otto spotted a large flat rock that had the slightest curve inwards, like a bowl. He dragged it over, covering most of the pit, but leaving a bit open to the sky. Otto tossed a few dry branches down the hole and struck his fire-starting rocks together. They clashed in a shower of sparks, the bright flash being swallowed by the darkness and then roaring back to life a moment later. The coals blazed, casting brilliant golden shadows in the pit.

Otto cracked the huge egg over his makeshift stove, the whites and yolk spilling into the concave rock. He tossed the broken egg shell away and grabbed his spear, edging cautiously toward the bushes.

Otto snatched a handful of berries swiftly and retreated back to the opposite side of his camp. This is ridiculous, Otto scolded himself. Nothing is in there. Get a hold on yourself. Or at least he thought nothing was in there. Just in case, he made sure to keep the stove between himself and the jungle.

Otto had to cover the hole for the fire to burn itself out and then wait for the stove to cool. When it was ready, he ate straight from the rock by scraping the egg off with a clean branch that he had washed in the brook. The yolk was a little runny, but sweet all the same. The bottom of the egg was crispy and fried into a crust. Otto finished the berries first, their sweet juices staining the corners of his mouth. When he was done with the meal, he lifted the flat stone from the fire pit and hauled it into the brook. He scrubbed the black soot staining the bottom and chunks of egg stuck to the top. When it was clean, he left the stone to dry by the bank.

Afterwards, Otto grabbed both his spears and went down to the beach, leaving his Dossier safely hidden in the camp. His expedition was mostly to see if anything new had transpired, but also based on the forlorn hope that he might discover a trace of humanity. The human skeleton from yesterday still plagued his mind.

On the beach, Otto quickly discovered a massive herd of duck-billed lizards with long crests. He estimated two score in total. The bipedal beasts trampled around on powerful legs, grazing on any vegetation they could find. The reptiles had thick tails, heavy flanks, and arms as big as his own. Every one of them had leathery skin and small webbed ridges running along their backs and down their tails. Many were shades of pink, green or grey. Except for the young, they were all taller than him by at least a few heads each. Many were shuffling along near the jungle, stripping entire bushes barren or unearthing roots. Even more were grazing on clumps of grass and a few even waded in the shallow waters, munching on slimy plants.

Whether or not he had already seen them in the book, Otto could not say. He could faintly recall a creature that resembled the Duckbills but even so, he remembered nothing about them. However, they seemed friendly enough and Otto didn't see them trying to eat the Dodos interspersed amidst their ranks, so he assumed they were herbivores. The Duckbills snorted at him when he got closer, but otherwise continued grazing as before. Otto wandered around the herd for a bit. Many even let him rest a hand against their leathery flanks.

After a while, Otto left the group and made his way farther down the beach. He wanted a better idea of his surroundings in case he would be stuck here for a long time. Otto already knew the stretch of beach where he had awoken on, though he was curious to know what the other coast held. And, he hoped to himself, perhaps this trip will yield another trace of humanity.

He wandered for a few hours at least, both spears in hand. When Otto could no longer see the Duckbill herd in the distance, he turned back. Despite his efforts, Otto found virtually nothing. He had kept a close eye on the jungle for more clues about any other humans who might have perished. However, his efforts were completely wasted on the uncompromising jungle. He did see a small troop of monkeys though, around half a dozen in all. They had nimble little hands that were constantly picking berries or fidgeting around. The monkeys had soft fur that ranged from brown to black and long tails that curled up when they were not being used to traverse the canopy. As Otto passed by, the nimble beasts swung from tree to tree, watching him and throwing purple berries into their mouths.

By the time the herd was in sight again, Otto spied a few sleek white birds winging in lazy circles above the ocean, screeching and cawing at each other. They would swoop into the sea, straight as arrows, and burst from the water clutching fish almost as big as themselves. Many would land on the beach to feast on their catch, feathers slick with water. A few took flight when Otto walked by, but returned to their meals when he was gone.

A while later, Otto saw a pack of tiny lizards no bigger than his head. There were five or six of them. Each had a few bright feathers sprouting from their heads. They stood on two little legs, thin as sticks and had arms that were even smaller still. The tiny lizards eyed him carefully as he passed.

Just at that moment, Otto heard an earsplitting screech from hell itself. Not just any scream, he realized with horror as the tiny lizards scattered into the undergrowth. It was the blood-curdling shriek from the bushes last night. Otto hefted a spear and levelled it at the jungle, ready to stab anything that might jump out. After a tense moment, Otto foolishly noticed that the sound had been farther off. And then it came again, once, twice, three times. The screeches were followed by a loud bark and a few sharp snaps. The white Direwolf, Otto knew at once. He could not stop himself from dashing into the jungle.

Otto gripped both spears tightly, ready to stab anything that might lurch into his view. He kept to the sound of the struggle, heart pounding and breaths coming in rapid bursts. The jungle was trying its hardest to hinder his journey; leaves slapped at his face, vines tangled his spears, and ferns cut his arms. After a small eternity of fighting the undergrowth, Otto finally burst into a clearing.

There, in the middle, was the white Direwolf, as he had suspected. The poor creature was bleeding from a dozen cuts and still snarling, keeping three huge birds at bay. Otto recognized them from the Dossier: Terror Birds. The shortest of the three was still taller than him by at least two heads. The largest was titanic; easily twice the height of the Direwolf, it towered over practically everything in the jungle. The alpha Terror Bird gave another hair raising shriek, shrill and primal. The other two echoed its cry, snapping and screeching at the cornered wolf.

These monsters were what the wolf had kept away from the fire last night. Now they were back for revenge. The white Direwolf was backed against a huge boulder, too tall for it to jump. The largest bird approached from the center, ready to lunge. The other two closed in on either side, their long legs taking slow, deliberate steps. Whenever one got too close, the wolf would leap forward with a snarl and the bird would retreat a few steps. None of the beasts had noticed Otto yet. He could escape unnoticed and leave the wolf to its fate, but something compelled him to stay. He lifted a spear to his shoulder and took aim at the closest bird's head. Otto sighed at his own stupidity as he threw the spear.

The projectile flew straight and true, though the bird ruined the shot by moving forward. The spear still took it in the neck, a foot of slick red wood protruding from the back. Warm blood sprayed all over the clearing from the dying bird as it crashed into the ground, long legs twitching. The other two snapped their heads toward Otto and shrieked, sharp yellow eyes shining for blood.

The instant the Terror birds focused their glares on Otto, the Direwolf pounced. It landed on the biggest one, claws raking at its wings and jaws snapping at the long neck. The Terror bird shrieked, stumbled into a tree, and the beasts went down together. The last bird hesitated a moment, eyeing Otto before turning to help its alpha. Otto knew he couldn't let the birds gang up on the wolf again, so he did the second most stupid thing that day and charged.

He thrust his last spear as hard as he could, all the strength he could muster behind the shaft. The long shard of wood tore deep into the Terror Bird's flank, earning another earsplitting screech. Otto tried to pry his weapon out and found he couldn't. The spear was stuck. He pulled harder only to have the shaft snap, jagged wood chips flying everywhere.

The bird unleashed a screech straight from hell and turned to snap at him. Otto managed to roll away from the vicious attack. He hastily snatched a blunt rock from the ground. The world shrunk down to just him and his foe. As he was getting back to his feet, the bird charged again, its beak raised high.

Otto vaulted to the left and lashed out with his stone moments before the Terror Bird ran him down. He struck the broken spear as hard as could, driving the shaft in deeper. The bird reared back and screamed, then spun and kicked at him. Its heavy claws lashed across his bare chest, the talons raking deep red canyons and leaving rivers of blood. Otto staggered back, clutching at the angry wound.

The bird charged again and this time Otto was too slow to dodge. He raised his arm to catch the blow meant for his head. His arm immediately erupted in pain. Agony, sharp and crippling, lanced through his body. It consumed his world in a blazing fire.

Otto screamed and clutched at his torn flesh, the rock dropping from his stiff hand. He could see the faint white glimmer of a bone! Otto collapsed onto the ground, blood dripping down his arm and staining the dirt a crimson red. His head swam in pain, bright and excruciating. His heartbeat boomed, loud as a drum. The rest of his world became nothing but a dull whisper. Black spots mingled with the red, dancing across his vision like a hundred insects. Otto heard a faint screech worlds away. He managed to lift his head for an instant and then fell onto his side, trembling in a shallow pool of his own blood.

Otto looked at the slanted forest through dazed eyes, his blood draining away by the second. The Terror Bird stalked toward him with slow and deliberate steps, eyeing him like a cornered meal. Otto trembled on the bloody grass, fighting to remain conscious. The Terror Bird locked eyes on his blood, the piercing yellow jewels shining at the prospect of a fresh kill. The monster knew it had him.

Otto was too weak to flee, let alone fight. He stared at the bird as it approached, his eyes glassy and unfocused. His pain was so great that death would be a peaceful reprieve. At least that was what Otto told himself. When the Terror Bird was within moments of pouncing, something no more than a white blur slammed into it.

Otto had completely forgotten about the Direwolf during his chaotic struggle.

The great white beast rammed the monster hard, wolf and bird going down together. They tumbled in a flash of white fur and grey feathers, trading snaps and bites as they rolled. The Terror Bird struggled to get off the ground, long legs awkward and clumsy. Before it could, the great white Direwolf pounced on the bird's throat, jaws closing around its soft and tender flesh. The Terror Bird's shriek was cut off as the wolf wrenched back its head, taking half the throat with it in a fine spray of red.

The beast raised its head, jaws wet with blood. Those golden eyes peered at Otto intently and he felt a sense of unease come over him. He managed to turn his head enough to see the bloody corpse of the alpha Terror Bird, its throat reduced to a shredded red pulp. Huge bugs the size of his feet were already tearing at the carcass. Otto glanced back at the Direwolf, its muzzle dripping red.

He suddenly felt afraid ー even more so than earlier, when he had charged into this chaotic bloodbath. Otto froze as the Direwolf stalked towards him, a silent white shadow of death. The beast stopped in front of him, raised its snout. . . and licked the blood off his arm.

Otto did not trust himself to move, staying perfectly still while the rough tongue lapped away his sticky blood. When the wolf was done, it curled up and began licking its own wounds. Otto released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

The rush of adrenaline from the fight wore off so abruptly that his pain careened back like a landslide, more vicious than ever. Otto gasped and clutched at his torn arm, the pain like a searing hot knife tearing through his flesh. He grit his teeth and clutched the rough fabric of his undergarments, his hand leaving bloody smears against the cloth. With a sharp wrench, Otto tore off a strip from the leg of his smallclothes. He somehow managed to wrap the shred of cloth around his arm and tie it off with a crisp tug.

Otto clenched his teeth, his breaths coming in quick bursts. The pain was so severe he wanted to hack his own limb off, just for a brief respite. The deep gouges on his chest felt like nothing more than a light scrape compared to his arm. Otto somehow got up and managed to stagger a few steps before crashing into a tree.

He clung to the rough trunk for dear life, steadying his ragged breaths and trying not to collapse all the while. The white Direwolf noticed his struggle and silently stalked up next to him. Otto was in too much pain to care if the wolf attacked him. It might even be a mercy for the beast to end his life. But instead, the Direwolf lowered its head and fell in right next to him. Otto leaned against the huge beast, grateful for its support.

Together they limped back to the camp. The journey was a living hell for Otto. Even though the huge Direwolf took most of his weight, every step sent fresh waves of pain through his broken body. Otto had to stop and catch his breath every few minutes, all the while trying not to black out from the pain.

When at last they reached his camp, Otto collapsed into the small brook. The water was freezing cold from the shade of the cliff, but it felt cool and soothing against his arm. His bandage was soaked all the way through with blood, so Otto ripped it off and threw it on the muddy bank. The clear water quickly turned a murky crimson. Otto wanted nothing more than to just drift off into sleep, leaving the pain behind. No, he resolved, I might bleed to death If I don't staunch this blood now. Every muscle in his body protested from the exertion, but somehow he managed to drag himself out of the water.

Otto limped through the undergrowth bordering his camp, stumbled over a root, and nearly went down. He managed to break his fall on a tree and noticed the soft, spongy green moss that clung to its bark. Otto gathered a large handful and wrapped it around his arm a few times. The moss immediately began absorbing his blood. Otto took a sturdy length of vine and bound his wound tight, tying it closed with a swift tug. He repeated the process for his chest to the best of his ability.

Otto looped a vine loosely around his shoulder and gathered a few more handfuls of moss to bring back to his camp. Earlier, he had noticed a few dreadful cuts along the Direwolf's side while they limped home. They would surely fester and become infected if he left them unattended.

Otto pushed back through the undergrowth to discover his companion lapping water from the brook, clear again where it had once been crimson red. Bloody tangles of fur punctuated the wolf's once soft and clean pelt, no doubt most of it his. Otto knelt beside the huge wolf cautiously. The Direwolf turned its head to nuzzle him. Otto breathed a sigh of relief and stroked the soft white fur. He soothed the wolf with a few whispers and it relaxed under his grip.

Otto slowly guided the Direwolf into the water and surprisingly the beast complied. He gently rinsed the sticky tangles of blood from its fur. The water turned red once more. When Otto was done, the Direwolf jumped onto the muddy bank and shook its coat, shiny droplets scattering everywhere. Otto waded out after the beast and began to plaster its wounds with clumps of spongy moss. The Direwolf tensed when his hand brushed a cut. Otto wrapped it quickly and moved onto the next gash.

When he was finished, the Direwolf looked absolutely ridiculous; a ragged patchwork of shaggy white fur and green moss. The beast turned and pawed at a clump with a piteous whine but otherwise left the makeshift bracings put.

Otto discovered that he was getting tired, fast. Perhaps it was because of his rapid blood loss, the hectic fight, or a combination of the two. He stumbled toward the soft pile of grass that he called a bed, his legs unsteady beneath him. His head felt clouded, his senses scrambled, and every one of his limbs as heavy as a boulder. For that brief moment, even his pain seemed to dull. Otto just barely staggered to his sleeping pile before he collapsed with a limp thud. His eyes closed and everything became black.

The sky was a mellow orange colour when he woke. To his comfort, Otto found that the white Direwolf had curled up next to him, keeping a solemn watch for intruders while he slept. Otto stifled a yawn, groaned, and sat up. The wolf noticed his sudden flurry of movement and padded over, nuzzling its head softly against his chest. Otto scratched it behind the ears, earning a satisfied whine.

His arm ached with a dull roar of agony, feeling unpleasantly wet in the cool shade. Otto glanced down and quickly remembered what happened before as he glimpsed the soggy dressing wrapped around his arm. The moss had soaked red while he slept, a good four or five hours, Otto judged by the position of the sun. He pushed himself off the ground with a heavy grunt and shambled over to the jungle, swapping the ruined moss for a fresh clump. Hopefully he wouldn't have to worry about anything creeping in the bushes for a long time, now that the Terror Birds were dead.

Otto's stomach rumbled loudly enough to wake everything in the jungle. After his chaotic day, he wanted nothing more than to just curl up by the fire with a leg of roast Dodo in hand. Both the spears he had taken with him this morning were still back in the jungle clearing with the dead Terror Birds. Otto was not eager to retrieve them. Fortunately, he had the great foresight to make a few extra spears ahead of time in case he ever found himself without a weapon. Otto shuffled to the corner, removed a spear, and set off toward the beach at a slow limp.

The wolf noticed him leaving and got up to follow, patiently slowing down to match his pace even though it could have sprinted well ahead. The great beast stalked at his side like a white shadow, growling menacingly at any wildlife that came too close. Otto glanced at the huge Direwolf while they walked. It had clearly started trusting him since he rushed to its aid back in the jungle. Otto sensed that he had earned the wolf's respect. Ever since the fight, the Direwolf had never left his side. If the beast was going to follow him around all the time, Otto supposed he should name it. He spent most of their walk pondering in silence.

Now that Otto could see the wolf up close, in daylight and without pain dulling his senses, he could confirm his previous suspicions that it was a male. The Direwolf was still not yet fully grown if its size was any indication. Otto thought carefully about noble names for his new companion. The wolf was brave and loyal, yet a silent and ferocious killer when the situation demanded. Most distinguishably was its clean white coat, like a field of fresh snow. Yes, snow. Fresh snow. Winter snow, he thought. Winter. The perfect name for the beast. The wolf looked up at him and barked. Otto hadn't realized he said the name aloud.

"Winter," he said once more. The wolf panted happily and barked again. "You like that name?" The Direwolf vocalized its assent once more. "Winter it is then," Otto declared with a grin.

The sky was a soft pink when they emerged on the golden beach. The Duckbill herd had trampled the sand flat and stripped most of the undergrowth bare. They were farther down the shore than before, ruthlessly attacking a sea of greens. One looked up and saw their approach. It gave an alarmed bellow and soon the entire herd caught a whiff of Winter's scent.

They took off with loud honks and snorts, sending up a massive cloud of dust and nearly trampling a few Dodos in the process. Winter ignored the commotion, choosing to stay with Otto rather than give chase to the beasts. Under the stampede, the Dodo flock had scattered like leaves in the wind. Most of the chubby birds were still dazed from the charge. Otto approached one. It glanced up at him with dull, uncomprehending eyes. He quickly speared it through the neck and pried his weapon free, picking the dead bird up by its feet.

Winter trotted back to him, muzzle dripping red and a chubby Dodo hanging limply from between his jaws. The pale Direwolf had already killed and eaten a bird, its corpse still strewn across the sand. Winter was bringing this one back. Otto ruffled the soft white fur and the Direwolf gave an affectionate whine. Together, they set off toward the camp.

By the time they returned, the sun threw long shadows over the world and the sky was a vibrant purple so dark it was almost black. Winter bounded to a corner and leisurely curled up to eat his kill. In a few sure strikes with his trusty stones, Otto had the fire blazing. He settled down before the flames and started plucking his Dodo bird. The moon was just creeping over the horizon when the large fowl was bare. Otto impaled the chubby bird on a spit and began roasting it over the fire. He watched the fire burn, its scarlet tongues of flame more beautiful than anything else on the island.

When his meal was done cooking, Otto yanked the spit from the ground and reclined on a smooth rock. He ate when the meat was cool, the golden bird disappearing from between his hands until there was nothing left but shiny white bones. Otto curled up on his pile of grass and yawned, completely exhausted by the trials of his hectic day. Winter stalked over silently and snuggled up next to him, both of them stuffed to the brim. Otto nestled against the welcome warmth of his companion's shaggy white fur, and together they drifted off to sleep under the soft glow of the silver moon.

When Otto woke the next morning, he was happy to find the wolf still there.

Author's Note:

Tall-Gothic-Guy, thank you for the continued feed back. In short, Otto did not know about them before he washed up. You learn more about this later on.

TheJaiganticBridge, thank you for the continued feed back and support. The size chart is very helpful and thank you for the offer. If you are still interested you can PM me the details.

NightWyvern91792, thank you for the continued support and sorry about the muddle-up.

Gentoxic, thank you for the review. Your comment and support is

Thanks for taking the time to check out my first fanfiction and to all the people who left reviews, they were very appreciated. 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