Fandom Fear of Shadows

With the addition of a new ruler comes new threats.

After Charlie had assumed control over the Nightmare Throne and Maxwell was released onto the island of his own creation, things began to change drastically. The new queen began to mold the island to better fit her own tastes- Which meant new environments, new creatures, and new foes. One such recent enemy that the survivors must face is a shadow monster, merely referred to as "Illis". This dark creature may not be as intimidating as the Terrorbeak or Crawling Horror when it comes to appearances, but its their mannerisms and methods that make them a force to be reckoned with. For starters, it doesn't need to be dark for Illis to show nor must you be low on sanity. They will appear whenever they so please, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike. They're known for stalking people for an extended amount of time and will attempt to drag them away when night falls. To make matters worse, they seem able to manipulate shadows to a degree; a trait not commonly seen in other Shadow Creatures.

They also don't fully bend to the queen's will, and there have been times where Illis completely ignored orders and acted on their impulses. It is unknown why they are this way, and why they do the things that they do. Perhaps Illis to seeks to break their role as a pawn and strive to be their own individual, or maybe even something greater. Whatever the case, Illis seems determined to get to the survivors; for what though is unclear.

Until their true intentions are revealed, Illis is yet another obstacle that must be overcome for the sake of survival. But they might prove to be the deadliest yet.

(Notice! This is a thread based around the 2D survival game, Don't Starve. While the game can be rather lighthearted in a lot of ways, this thread will be revolving around the more dark and creepy aspects of the game. If you are interested in the thread's plot but are unfamiliar with the game, then let me know and I'll explain the lore to the best of my abilities. Both canon characters and OCs are welcomed and please refrain from making one sentence posts!)

Darkness, darkness was not a good thing.

It was almost funny how such a childish fear could prove to be the bane of one's existence. All those nights of sleeping with the door open a crack and having your parents recite that there was nothing to fear, were useless- So useless. There was something to fear in the dark, at least here there was. It was a vicious, vile thing that drained the life from those who strayed too far from the campfire's protective light. It didn't matter who you were, how brave you are, it killed people all the same. Of course though, death on this island was never permanent. If one died here, they merely returned to the very beginning- Having lost all of their progress and thus forced to start over again.

So far, Wes had fared pretty well. At least this time, that is. He was by no means a survivalist, quite the opposite in fact. He didn't have any useful skills which could aid him in such a harsh environment- He was a mime for Pete's sake. The most useful thing about him was that his balloons could sometimes be used as a trap. But even still, inflating them costed precious sanity. Wes had been extremely lucky this run. He had an actual camp set up not too far away from a beefalo field this time- One which he had build with a partner, if one could call WX that.

The automaton was very irritable and their entire relationship thus far consisted of them calling Wes an "incompetent, painted flesh-bag". Though they weren't on the most friendliest of terms, WX did help in aiding Wes' survival; and vice versa. Surviving alone on this island was hell and having someone with you made things go by so much more smoothly- Even if that someone was a copper-composed jerk.

As of now, Wes was returning back to the camp which he and WX shared. He was usually put in charge of gathering materials such as cut grass and twigs, seeing it was one thing he was actually good at. Sometimes he would be lucky and find a berry bush along the way, which he had. The mime was quite pleased with himself. He had a good haul and plenty of sun left to get back to camp. So, with his stuffed pack secured to his shoulders, Wes had begun the trek back. Though the mime wasn't the violent type (not like WX was), he had made it a habit to carry around some sort of weapon. With how unpredictable the island was, it was best to be prepared for anything. Thus why he had a rudimentary spear clutched in his fist, using it as a walking stick as he went along.

Wes exhaled air through his nose, keeping an eye out for any markers that would lead to camp. Sometimes the environments here would blend together and make it easy to get lost. You can only pass a tree so many times before they all start to look the same. That's why it was important to keep alert, especially now. Wes was away from the camp and daylight was fading. If he got lost now, he'd be stuck camping out here tonight, and he did not want that. There were so many different things that would want to kill him. Spiders, Werepigs, hounds, the darkness itself- Seriously, almost anything on this island was out for blood.

The mime gave a particular nervous look around him as he thought over the many different predators of this island. Hounds in particular were of his least favorite. He had died by them once and it was by far one of the worst deaths he faced. His nightmares afterwards were that of gnashing teeth and tearing fabric. Wes may of not been afraid of dogs before that death, but he certainly was now. He didn't think he could look at a Papillon the same way again.

Focus, Wes, Focus.

The mime shook those rather morbid thoughts from his head. Perhaps Wes should've plucked some flower petals while he collecting materials. It was always a good idea to keep a garland on hand. The scent of wildflowers was usually enough to keep sanity from dropping. Besides, who could be anxious while plucking flowers?

It's been a few minutes and there have been no signs of sentient life. Webber's eyes periodically darted upwards to see how much daylight he had left.

Whilst he was walking down the path, Webber saw someone out a ways away, and immediately darted behind a tree. Despite not having survived for long before, he learned that no one and nothing can be trusted here. Especially the pigs.

Webber took a deep breath. He should be fine, right? It's not as if he can't fight - he's got his spider friends with him, and it should be dark enough to bring them out of their den if need be. But what if this person's prepared? he wondered to himself. We can't defend ourselves from somebody who's strong...

Webber shook his head. That's wrong. We can scare them off if we have to.. who would want to fight a spider as large as us, right?

He grinned. That's right, we can scare them off if we have to. Fingers crossed, Webber stepped out from behind the tree, hoping the other person would see him before he had to come too close.

Wilson clenched his hands in frustration, seeing that he was back at the beginning. He took a deep breath and sighed, getting up and starting to gather stuff around him. He felt eyes follow his movement and he felt his blood run cold, no. No, hounds don't come now. Neither do any shadows, he's not going insane he just started. He caught a glance of eyes which disappeared the next millisecond. His heart beating out of his chest with anxiety.
"Don't. Don't think about it, it's nothing." He told himself, continuing his gathering. After a couple minutes, he regretted not having a backpack for all the stuff so he settled down near where he started anyway. He looked up at the sky, not too far from dusk, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make himself a fire considering he'd need it sooner or later. He had found four carrots, enough for an okay dinner. He roasted them quickly and started snacking, pretending that the eyes on his back were nothing more than his imagination.

With one nervous gulp, Webber cautiously makes his way to the person beside the campfire, readying himself for a fistfight if he needs to get in one. He might not have any combat training, but hey, he's pretty confident in himself. Ever so quietly, Webber creeps towards the person, their back turned to him. He leans over to the person and lightly taps them on the shoulder.

Or, that's what would have played out, if Webber hadn't stepped on a dry twig not five feet away.

Wilson stiffened quickly, looking over at Webber and scooting backwards as his mind registered the being as a spider, at firstmost. He looked around for something he can use for defense, he grabbed the axe as his mind was in a frenzie of fear. He wasn't ready to die so soon, before even the first night. "Stop right there!" He called out to the spider, even though if it was a feral spider it wouldn't heed his words.

Webber stops in his tracks upon this person's sudden reastion. He wasn't expecting that to happen. Webber backs off a bit and shakily hisses at this new opponent. His mind immediately registers the axe, causing him to take afew more steps back. He doesn't want to die yet, he just came into this world!
Webber's first thought was what he was going to do to someone who was armed. If he was fast enough, he could pounce on this person before they attacked him, but if he's too late...
It's a risk Webber might have to take.

Wilson noticed the hesitance in Webber's eyes, putting the axe down and rubbing his forehead. "Oh, you're not. I'm sorry." He apologized as he realized it wasn't a feral spider, trying to calm his breathing which was causing his heart to continue racing. He looked at the spider child and composed himself. "Do you talk? What's your name?" He asked, a little over aware of Webber's movements.

Webber hesitates to respond. It might be a trap, designed to lure him into comfort before his demise.. but for some reason, this person reminds him a lot like Father. He doesn't know whether to trust this person or to run away. Webber glances behind himself, then up toward the sun. There wouldn't be enough daylight to find another fire.
Webber decides to trust this person. He can't help but feel an odd sense of comfort being close to him. "Father?" he asks.

"Oh uh. Are you looking for your father? I'm not sure that he's here, after all you're the only other person I've seen here." Wilson awkwardly answered, hoping that Webber wasn't mistaking him as his father which he would feel embarrassed about very quickly. "It's getting late, so you can stay by the fire here with me if you want."

"Thank you," Webber quietly replies, sitting down beside Wilson. The fire's warmth, paired with the presence of a fellow person, calms him down considerably. Drowsiness starts forming in the back of his mind... it feels a lot like he's camping with Gramps again.
After a few moments of silence, Webber asks, "You.. you aren't Father?"

"No problem, I don't mind." Wilson passed the last of his berries to Webber and nearly choking when he was called his father.
"Oh no, no. I'm not your father, I'm sorry. Um, we might be able to find him once we get out?" He was really more lying to himself about getting out, there was no way out and it was very clear that there wasn't. Everytime he found a puzzle to fix, he'd die before he could do anything and he'd return back to beginning troubles.

Webber slouches upon hearing Wilson say he isn't his father. They seem so alike.. he really thought Wilson and Father were the same person. "But we can't get out, can we?" Webber asks, tears beginning to well in his eyes. "We tried before. That's how we became what we are today..." He sniffles a little and rests his head on Wilson's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, we'll get out of here. Promise." Wilson put his hand on Webber's shoulder and pulling him close. He wiped the tears from his face, and holding him tightly. "Don't cry alright? It'll be okay." He reassured Webber the best that he could, not wanting to see him cry.

Webber, rubbing his eyes to wipe away and excess tears, nods in response. "Thank you, mister... nobody's helped me feel better for a long time."
Webber presses his body closer to Wilson's and begins dozing off.

Wilson forgot how it really had felt like to be physically close to anyone. Not only caused by being thrown into his own creation, but also having lived far into the mountains with only his creations to keep him company. He put a few more logs on the fire, before wrapping his arms around Webber and slowly falling asleep as well.