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Vynik21

The Unnatural Journal of a Mad Scientist

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Vynik21    19

Greetings all - this is my first post in the Don't Starve forum in general, let alone the Lore forum. I was doing a little exploring and found a few field notes from Wilson. I figured I would post them here.

Entry 1

“Give me a man, unbroken, and I will break him.

Give me a land, untamed, and I will tame it.”

For scientific posterity, this journal is necessary to document my time... here. A mere three hours ago I believed this was a lucid dream, a vivid dream, an unfathomable dream. Now, I am beginning to believe I am not dreaming. No. I am awake.

I don't understand how I came to exist here nor why. I do not know where I am, but I look around and see a canvas. I see opportunity.

The sun is high in the air, noon probably, or the equivalent. Mark my words I will be back home in just a couple more hours. My mind has broken more difficult puzzles and crafted much more brilliant solutions. This will no different.

On a side note, and for possible further research, I recall a tall, thin man in a suit. The name Maxwell rings a familiar bell, but I cannot, for the life of me, remember why.

-Wilson

Entry 2

Great cogitation leads to success, and thus I have succeeded. Though, to qualify my statement, I have not succeeded... completely. I'm still stuck on this forsaken island but I do not view it as a defeat, instead, I view it as a challenge, a victory soon to be within my grasp, clutched tight like this very pen.

My success comes from finding some kindling, a small amount of wood to start a fire. It's not much but it will get me through the night. I have had this overwhelming urge to start a fire and I can't shake it, like there's something unapproachable, something truly terrible waiting for me come nightfall.

My writing is interrupted by my stomach. I must go find food.

-Wilson

Entry 3

From the comfort of my campfire, I'm watching the sun dip below the horizon. Darkness will fall soon and my previous strength of character... No. Hubris. My hubris has faded somewhat. My stomach still grumbles incessantly but I am attempting to slake my hunger, albeit minimally, with the berries I picked in the waning hours of daylight.

Maybe I can get some sleep but I doubt it. If not, I will be keeping my eye towards the horizon.

-Wilson

Entry 4

Darkness. I can't grip my pen and I can't string thoughts together I'm writing without stopping just to make the time past faster and my hand is cramping

It's dark. It is so unbelievably dark. I hear something in the night. Maybe some things in the night. I'm running low on berries. Maybe it's my stomach.

-Wilson

Day 2 – Entry 1 – Noon

I have decided to annotate my journal a little better. It is, after all, a scientific journal and must be used for reference later on.

As I have said, great cogitation leads to great success and thus I have succeeded once again! Upon the departure of the black veil of night, a night I won't soon forget, I set forth again to master this malleable land around me. This clay is meant to be shaped and I am the one fit to do so.

A little straw and a few sticks is all I needed to make a trap. A rabbit trap. If I can cook it properly, I do believe I will have meat tonight. For now, however, I am subsisting on a few more berries I picked. I will return with good news!

-Wilson

Day 2 – Entry 2 – Late Afternoon

Rabbits are an infernally idiotic creature! They have small brains and lack any situational awareness nor any ability for proper self preservation using the power of the mind! They are basic animals that act on instinct.

Then why was I unable to catch a single one of them?! I.. loathe to admit that in, what may be described as, a rage after hours of attempting to feed myself, I smashed the trap with a stick. My stomach is sure to alert the night creature, whatever it is, as its growling has only risen in volume. My hunger is.. rapacious.

I am somewhat ashamed to admit it but I am truly terrified for what the night may hold. I only hope that the remains of my trap currently crackling in the fire can sustain light long enough.

-Wilson

Day 2 – Entry 3 – Night

It's a monster I hear a monster running around outside I hear growling and I have decided that writing stream of consciousness like my english professor taught me so many years ago might make me feel better until night ends because then I can put down oh god what was that

Day 3 – Entry 1 – Daybreak

A brief journal entry to document another great success on my part! The light of brilliance cuts through even the darkest mires. A dead rabbit lay dead a mere ten meters outside my campsite. I hear a... noise in the distance. A squawking, maybe. I have witnessed birds on the island, absolutely, but this sounds different. This sounds bigger.

Ah, there – I see something in the distance. Something tall. I shall bring the largest stick I can find with me. My scientific curiosity insists that I investigate and investigate I shall.

-Wilson

Edited by Vynik21
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Vynik21    19

Day 3 – Entry 2

My success today is mixed. I cooked up the rabbit and had a small meal before I left to investigate this... field. My stomach is angry but my hunger has subsided for now.

Anyway, I am in front of a field. A field of rocks, unbreakable stone. I'm not quite sure what time it is, but I have been sitting in this bush for what must be... oh... an hour. It's quite odd but not the strangest thing I have seen. Among the field of rocks is a tall, birdlike creature that seems to have a nest about fifty meters from me. A tall... bird.

A tallbird!

Not the most clever name, certainly, but I'm

Day 3 – Entry 3 – Early Afternoon

Atop my golden throne I spit at you, Tallbird! Atop my... well.. my tree, anyway. How dare you chase me away? Me! I am the greatest mind of our generation, a testament to the human condition! You.. You monster!

I found a few small, sharp rocks before I was accosted by that lanky specimen. He has turned and returned to his nest. Perhaps I can escape.

-Wilson

Day 3 – Entry 4 – Dusk

SUCCESS! Finally, an unmitigated success! One I do not have to qualify and one I am proud to say will assist me further. Will assist me greatly even. I have crafted... an axe. Yes, a rudimentary tool but a necessary one in my situation. I felled a small tree earlier and am sitting around a relative inferno compared to my previous attempts.

I am succeeding, nature. Creatures of this island, I warn you! I am not to be taken lightly!

-Wilson

Day 3 – Entry 5 – Night

I am so tired. My mind is lucid, clear, I think but maybe not. I don't know. The campfire's noise, a cacophony. I can't hear anything else. Nothing but the grumbling of my stomach. The roaring of a creature in the night has silenced. But I see something. I see eyes. They stare at me, unblinking. I see them.

I wish I could not.

-Wilson

Day 4 – Entry 1 – Daybreak

Last night was horrible. My mind, my greatest weapon, feels dull. I feel.. rusty and uncared for. I need food. While gripped in terror around a dwindling campfire, I created another rabbit trap. I will temper my rage this time.

-Wilson

Day 4 – Entry 2 – Unimportant

I have never had to kill before. The rabbit trap worked but.. it just caught him. It does not kill. I looked into his eyes as I held him and I could see terror. I could see something conscious, something important looking back at me. Fear reflected, perhaps.

The rabbit made a small yelp as I gripped him and then silence.

I feel different. I don't know. Scientific posterity. I write for science. I live for science. I am an educated, intelligent man who can conquer this world. I must pause, however, to flay the animal laying next to my journal and devour him.

-Wilson

Day 4 – Entry 3 – Late Afternoon

I caught another rabbit in my second trap. He struggled much less than the first which made it worse, somehow. I ate him. My stomach feels better, of course. My mind feels.. less. Diminished. Ah, yes. Diminished.

Diminished or not, I am still the greatest mind on this God forsaken island. I am the top of the food chain... I hope.

I have been watching the creature in the field of rocks for some time now. He stares at me. I swear, he stares at me.

I want to end him.

-Wilson

Day 4 – Entry 4 – Nighttime

The night is a blanket of terror that encompasses my mind. The darkness feels impenetrable.

I used some grass to make a rope and thought about hanging myself. Maybe from a tree. It would be simple physics to get my neck to snap. All physics seems so simple now. Lucidity.

Instead, however, I started to work on a weapon. I need a weapon to survive here, I've decided, and I created a spear. If you can call it that. A rock attached to a stick with grass. It looks weak but it's something at least. The funniest thing...

While I was making it, I had Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 21 funneling through my brain case. I used to listen to it while in the laboratory. It helped clear my mind. So much to clear sometimes.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. What a nice name. Wilson Wolfgang Mozart.

Wolfgang.

-Wilson

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Syd    232

This is very interesting so far. I hope you do continue.

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Vynik21    19

Before I start this update, I want to say that I appreciate all of your words of encouragement. I wasn't sure how it was going to be received before I started, but I am certainly glad that you guys are enjoying it. Knowing that it's being met in a positive way, I plan on making updates a much more regular thing. It's fun to write and I sure hope that it continues to be fun to read.

UPDATE 3 (for easy identification when scrolling through posts)

Day 5 - #1 – Dawn – Mood? Agitated

I am writing with my journal under a rabbit trap, obscured from the Heavens. Rain. Rain! In my hours, in my days in this nightmare of nightmares, rain has never occurred to me, but now it threatens to soak my records.

I am also worried that it threatens to drown my food source: the rabbits up north. Their holes are open to the rain and I can picture them wallowing in dirty rainwater, their little eyes and mouths fighting to stay in a pocket of air.

I am depressed now.

-Wilson

Day 5 - #2

I document, now, my first encounter with the tallbird that threatens my sanity. My first real encounter and not simply being chased away by an overgrown chicken who has lived far past their usefulness.

The music flowed through my mind again, a clarifying breeze that awakened my neurons and synapses. I danced before I entered into the fray. The campfire and dirty earthen ground made a positively wonderful ballroom. I felt the notes echo inside of my head.

I felt my hand throb around the spear, freshly made, and ecstasy came over me. I rushed into battle with my tall friend.

He pecked at me, his long legs bending awkwardly to attack, but I evaded. My spear vibrated with energy as I thrusted into him, noting the splitting of skin and the ear shattering vibrato of the tallbird's scream. I feel like a God in this land armed with only a rock tied to a stick. It is beautiful.

As I gracefully avoided his next attack, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. An egg, as large as my head, sitting inside a nest a mere twenty feet away. I noted the condition of my spear. It was broken and used up.

I dropped my spear to the ground and picked up the egg, and rushed off back to my camp. It could only keep up with me for a short distance before emitting an echoing cry of despair. He turned and walked away. I guess I should qualify her as a she now; the blue and white speckled egg glows next to the campfire.

I apologize to my future self. I apologize for an entry eschewing scientific reasoning for such base emotion, but no doubt you will recall the unadulterated pleasure found in that dance in the field of stone.

-Wilson (Wolfgang?)

Day 5 - #3 – Dusk

I have cooked the largest omelet that the world has ever seen and enjoyed every last bite as I watched her limp around her home. I am full for the first time in days.

I respect her now. I feel an attachment to her, I believe. I feel something that I haven't felt in a long time and I can't put my finger on it. It's not a break in my immutable courage that I have decided to resist pressing the attack. I refuse to harm her further. I shall wait until she mends.

Meanwhile, I must devote myself to a project, a task that will focus my mind. It's the only way I will get a grip on this land.

It is imperative I get a grip, as they say. I see things, imposing shadows threatening me from the fields and trees. From everywhere, really.

-Wilson

Day 5 - #4 – Night(mares)

My writing has become increasingly erratic. I have read over previous bits and pieces of my journal only to find myself cringing at the lack of consistency. I feel it has slipped from my list of priorities to correctly enumerate and catalog my experiences in this Hell. It is no wonder with the night here. The night is unlike anything I have ever seen in reality or in dreams. It feels as though icy hands grip my mind, pulling it into some unending nightmare. If I let it, I can never leave.

As I lay here, writing on the damp ground, my mind has started to shift to the tallbird of the rocky plains. I am curious about how her wounds are mending.

I am also curious about the images that continue to flash into my consciousness. I swear I could see a large, shadowy monster watching me, his hair wild. It looked to be made of snakes.

I am worried that I will set a precedent by writing this down but I feel it needs to be said, perhaps as an emotional cleanse to return my mind to working order.

I am scared. Unflappable.

-Wilson

Day 5 - #5 – Still Night

Lightning! I can harness this, yes! I can find something... anything to do with lightning. Electricity. What can I do with it? I don't know. I'm... I'm at a loss right now, but I need to write. I need to document the first lightning strike on this island.

I dozed off for a few moments,only to be awakened by the squeals of animals and a deafening crack. As I cleared my eyes, I assumed I was staring into my campfire. I am not staring into my campfire.

The forest around me is an inferno, a beautiful orchestra of destruction, and I bear witness to it. I am overjoyed and cannot understand why. My brain bounces back and forth between logic and emotion, between reason and insanity. The figures in the night have receded to make way for man's greatest discovery, fire.

It reminds me of my summers as a child with my cousin, Willow. She had an affinity for.. the elemental sciences. I do not dare classify her as a petty arsonist or pyromaniac. She had much more scientific interest than a passing fetish for destruction. She was a lovely, lovely, smart girl.

Oh, how I do miss Willow.

-Wilson

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Vynik21    19

PAGES DESTROYED DUE TO RAIN AND FIRE LARGE HOLE IN SCIENTIFIC CATALOG

NOTES ADDED FOR COMPLETENESS FOR FUTURE REFERENCE.

Day 16 - #1 – Daybreak

This is my first entry since the... catastrophe. A reckoning has occurred and my journal bore the brunt of this island's vengeance. I gaze, melancholy, over the walls of my fortress. The denizens of this island laugh at me. Anger! Anger!

She betrayed me, Wilson. Yes, Wolfgang, she betrayed you. Your beautiful night with her feels so long ago now, so, so long ago. Tell me, Wolfgang. Do you love her?

I love her.

She bore the wrath of the island as well. I was watching the tallbird taking care of her young as the hounds took her away. Mozart flowed sweetly into my brain, a deafening internal din as the notes ricocheted around my skull. It accompanied my rage like a fine wine. Like a white wine with fish.

Amadeus' piano concerto buried into my skull and out of my ears as my spear sank into the hound's flesh. His squeals were on key as he died and I felt a pang of satisfaction at my revenge.

I ate them. I ate her first but then I ate the hounds. Since then, my head computer has been on the fritz, isn't that right, Wolfgang?

Yes.

-Wilson?

Day 16 - #2 – Never-ending Sorrow

I am the strongest man! Scary island but it is weak, not strong. It is inferior to Wolfgang! The fancy man's music is in my head. I thought I hated but I LOVE! IT DRIVES ME TO BE STRONG! IT DRIVES ME TO CONQUER!

The music was with me as I found the spiders. I crushed them beneath my boot. They tried to kill me but NO! IT WAS THEM WHO I KILLED! I KILLED THEM ALL! I am WOLFGANG! I am STRONG!

They had smooth, tiny string, yes. I am sure it is used for very good things. I make a net now by stringing together. Later – a hat. Yes, a hat for Wolfgang. I am now stopping writing for cooking.

I am going to eat meat. Lots of meat. Not the bitter meat of the doggies, but the yummy meat of the small shadow bunnies. They are scary bunnies but delicious. Yes.

-WOOLFgggang!!

Day 17 - #1 - Rapture

It is unmistakable. There is something terribly wrong with me and I cannot understand it. My mind, once immutable, the finest mind of a generation, is now withered and broken. I stare at the campfire nights I cannot sleep and I see myself falling into oblivion. I see the world shifting and shattering around me. I am at the center of a cataclysm and there is nothing I can do about it. I try, every waking minute, to maintain lucidity and keep a grip on reality.

I am beginning to believe that it is a battle I cannot win.

The past few days have not been all sorrow, however. I was galvanized by the visitation of my beautiful cousin, Willow. Her last visit resulted in considerable damage to my journal entries, unintended casualties to her brand of scientific exploration. The fire burned bright and hot, carrying us through the night, however. For that, I can say, I am thankful.

She visited again last night, creeping in from the darkness, navigating carefully around the shadow creatures that haunt me. She visited me and she looked as beautiful as ever.

I don't dare question how she arrived on the island, nor where she went. As we were talking, her eyes flickering, hair bouncing, I blinked. I twisted my head for a moment and she vanished. I must find out how. I can adapt her abilities for my own and maybe escape? It's just a theory but I don't come up with many theories any more.

Admittedly, it has been a considerable relief to see her again. I concede confusion the first time she appeared. However, the “apparition” caused destruction that proves her existence. Real, physical damage.

The police from back home must have been wrong. I must have been wrong. It was a different corpse we found after the house fire.

The teddy bear was a coincidence.

-Wilson

Day 17 - #2 – It Begins

I've resigned myself to a.. sabbatical of sorts. I've spent a few hours picking flowers, wandering around, and trying to clear my mind. I thought, for a moment, that perhaps Piano Concerto 21 would help, but after reading through a few previous entries into my journal I have made a concerted effort to keep my mind away from Mozart. I've focused on other music I used to listen to in the lab.

Chopin's Nocturnes flowed sweetly, sweetly in my brain as I picked flowers and watched the water today. I feel a little better, a little sharper, and in that explosion of clarity, I've had a realization.

I can see his face. The man who greeted me on the island. I can see him laughing when I close my eyes, when I stare into the flames of my campfire, or when I watched the forest burn. The name Maxwell continues to claw its way into my consciousness when his terrifying visage appears.

He is the Devil. Metaphorically, I imagine, although my inability to discover my present location for going on three weeks may suggest I've dipped into damnation, or at least, a purgatory for experiments past. I have made a conscious choice not to think about my past, not yet anyway. Wilson, the intrepid explorer, genius scientist, greatest mind of our generation. I am Wilson.

I read through my journal and note that I have not been here for an incredible period of time. However, every second here feels like an eternity... Time compression? I need to escape.

On that note, I have begun plans to find Maxwell. Research is required but I believe if I find him...

I will shove my spear through his heart and throttle him until he no longer breathes. I will delight in his death and the scary man will be no more. This island is weak, but I am strong. Woolf...Gang. Wilson. Willow. The puppies will eat his body and I will go home.

I am

-W

Edited by Vynik21
Minor cleaning

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kaiwolff    31

This is a really interesting take on how the other "characters" come into play... Wilson is imagining what he wants to see, and what he wants to be... I liked the attachment Wilson seemed to have developed for the Tallbird. I was sad it ended so quickly.

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Snob    1,272

This is simply divine. I love it.Thank you for providing such content, thank you. :p

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Vynik21    19

This is a really interesting take on how the other "characters" come into play... Wilson is imagining what he wants to see, and what he wants to be... I liked the attachment Wilson seemed to have developed for the Tallbird. I was sad it ended so quickly.

I'm glad that you brought this up. As I clicked submit for part 4, I felt the same way about the "relationship" between Wilson and the Tallbird. In fact, I wanted to originally expand on it but I was worried that he relationship between Wilson and the bird wouldn't be interesting enough to read for a more magnified, focused look. I'm trying to toe the line separating game play and the story so I can continuously bring in elements that are familiar to Don't Starve players (such as the hound, and soon, winter), and honestly, I feel as though cutting the emphasis between Wilson and the Tallbird's almost physical relationship short was a big mistake.

Such a mistake that I've toyed with the idea of going back and editing in content between Update 3 and 4. I feel that, ultimately, that would be a mistake as well, because anyone who has read through 4 won't be thrilled to go back and read something that was added in after the fact. It would also give people reading it for the first time a different look at the story than someone who has been following it since I started posting, which is unfair.

So, as this long-winded explanation post comes to an end, I've come up with something of an answer involving a few surprises Wilson is going to find later in his adventures, perhaps when he's at his lowest. I'm not shoving the interaction between the two under the rug and walking away, because I acknowledge that it was an error to end it so quickly.

I appreciate all of the feedback and especially feedback like yours, kaiwolff. It made me step back and look at what I was writing a little closer and helped me shape a new situation for Wilson later on. :)

Also, again, thank you all for reading this. I'm thrilled with the feedback so far and I plan on continuing it until it finishes or I'm the only one viewing it. I'm trying to update it at least once a day, but there might be some dips due to work and junk. I'll play catch up on days I have more free time.

Thank you again.

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Vynik21    19

(

)

FOR FULL EFFECT, WHILE READING THROUGH FOLLOWING NOTES, LET BEETHOVEN'S MOONLIGHT SONATA FLOW THROUGH YOU YOUR BRAIN IS A LIGHTNING ROD A NEXUS OF INTELLIGENCE YOU ARE INSPIRATION WILSON DOO DOO DOOOOOO DO

Day 17 - #3 – Nightfall

The notes dance and thus, so do I. It is nighttime and I have reconciled my fear. It is perfectly natural to be afraid of the unknown, even if you are, as I am, one of the most powerful minds in existence. In fact, I dare say that my dwindling sanity, which am I coming to grips with, has made my mind stronger. It has lost its keen edge for analytical reasoning but has been replaced by the equivalent of mental brute force.

I can feel the temperature of the island falling, falling, down, down as the cold goes up the leaves turn brown. Round and round it falls as I tumble into the abyss, oblivion itself, waiting for me. I feel as Dante must have felt, but I do not have Virgil. No, I only have myself. Unless...

Wolfgang? Willow? Are you there?

No response. Never any response when I call. Instead I am forced to speak to the animals. Their yelps of fear from their tiny, makeshift cages inspire me to new heights of scientific prosperity, intellect, depravity.

Why should I care about the lives of a few rabbits? Why should I care about my.. Tallbird? I am already in Hell, I might as well reign.

-Wilson

Day 17 - #4 – Still Nightmares for Nightfall

The hounds visited me again just a few moments ago. I'm staring into their open, lifeless eyes and I cannot help but smile. They, like myself, seek to survive in a harsh environment. They are natives of this environment. They are the fear that drives the nightmares but no, I say, no. I have begun to perfect my spear. The base technology has evolved to a razor's sharpness and there was no more proof than the slick, gristly crunch of the tool driving into the hound's skull.

They sought an easy meal, they did. They sought dominance over me, Wilson the Great, working title, and you know what they received? They received their eternal reward. Their unblinking eyes awaken a feeling in me. Mozart returns. He sings, he dances along with Beethoven. My writing is becoming less coherent as I read and as I read I shall sing and as I sing they will die.

Goodnight, nighttime. I shall see you in the morning. First, however, I shall taste of the meat of the hounds. It keens the senses.

-Wilson the Great, master of this land.

Day 18 - #1 – Journey Noon?

I have created a trap. It is a devilish invention using the teeth of the hounds themselves. It causes unbearable pain, or so I imagine, as the teeth sink into anything foolish enough to come near.

After creation of the traps, I fell asleep. I feel a little better. The cold is starting to get to me, however. It is not... freezing, but it is uncomfortable. I need something warm and, in order to do that, I feel I need to stretch my imagination. I know one way to do so.

It tastes.. funny. The hound meat offers some respite from hunger at a departure of my... well..

The next entry will be further away from lucidity than I already am. I warn myself. Posterity.

-Wilson

THIRD MOVEMENT MOONLIGHT SQUEAKS THROUGH MY EARS IN MY HEAD AND I AM FALLING BEETHOVEN YOU ARE BRILLIANCE

Day 18 - #6666?66?66? - NOTNIGHT

I have done it, truly. The cold bothered me so I got rid of the cold. It was that easy! I took rabbits and they squealed, begged me. I could hear them speaking, in English? Yes. In English. Their black skins and shadowy bodies are truly manifestations of the Devil himself, blasphemous animals that have no right to live. I trapped them. Many of them. Twenty of them.

They squeal in harmony. I wonder if I can make them sing my songs?

Using my incredible ingenuity, I have murdered two of them, and crafted myself a pair of stylish earmuffs using their incredibly warm fur. The bonus of being a spawn of **** is that you are naturally very warm. I read it in a book.

I don't remember which one.

My ears are positively BURNING! Because of the heat and warmth, not because someone is talking about me. Although, someone could be talking about me.

Wilson? Wolfgang? Willow? Are you talking about me? Do you understand that I am right here?

At least they aren't talking about me behind my back.

-W

Day 18 - #? - Dusk

I have returned to... a temporary feeling of mental acuity. I am trying to understand what is wrong but everything seems to be falling apart, my mind most of all. I write this entry as a testament, a mark of something surreal. Surreal even in the standards of this island.

As I was preparing to leave the campsite and venture forth to find Maxwell, I saw a hallucination. At least, I believed it to be a hallucination. They are nothing new, of course, as an extended period of time alone, without sleep and proper nourishment, will cause even the mentally sturdy to catch ghosts out of the corner of their eye.

This was demonstrably different. I approached the hallucination to shoo it, as I often do, as it causes them to flee, disappear. It was a tall, shadowy figure with sharp teeth and an absolutely terrifying growl.

Could it be the monster I fear in the night? Surely not.. I am still alive, after all.

I attempted to pass through, but instead, it lashed out at me! It struck me with such force that.. I began to bleed. I thought, certainly, that was impossible! I had no time to cogitate on such matters, however, as it quickly struck again and I was sure my end was nigh.

Mozart entered my head again and my vision went black as my spear thrusted forward, seemingly of its own will. The creature let out of a growl, an.. ear splitting scream of pain. It was exactly the same sound that the Tallbird made when I sliced her leg in my first few days upon this island. Rage boiled inside of me as blood leaked from my shoulder. I believed I could taste it.

After a few more moments, it evaporated with a high pitched wail and left behind a residue that lingers still. It is unlike anything I have ever seen and the physical wounds left have given me hope that, perhaps, it is not all imagined.

Perhaps I can be saved.

Unfortunately, I feel dizzy and have stoked the fire in case of passing out. I write these words carefully, my mind focused, because I am positive that, before long, I will be unconscious.

-Wils~~~~~

Day 19? - The Dream

He came to me in my dreams. Maxwell deemed it time to visit as I laid broken and bleeding next to the fire. I found myself in a scorched land, but no fire in sight. In fact, the environment was temperate, and it felt.. nice. The ground felt as though it was made of stone and I stood in the center of a large.. maze. A swirl on the ground, it's hard to describe. I looked out and he walked towards me with purpose, a smile gracing his lips as his coattails fluttered from his movement.

Not from the wind, as there was no wind.

The song that had been haunting me for the past few days, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, played loudly and clearly. I could hear every note perfectly, as though he had created a realm just for me. I suppose, in a way, he did. His footsteps echoed on the stone. The cold was gone.

Hallucinations, shadow creatures, they.. flickered in and out of existence as he approached me. Darkness trailed behind him, as though his shadow was as big as the world itself. The horrifying night followed him, and in that night were the eyes. The unblinking, staring eyes. I saw a Tallbird become enveloped by it, her screams cut short.

Within moments, he was in front of me, and I could only see him, the harbinger of darkness. I recall what he said to me with astonishing clarity:

His mouth did not move but, instead, my name sounded from the darkness, “Wilson.”

“Hey there, pal. It's been a while, hasn't it? Having fun here?”

I did not answer. It wasn't a conscious choice. The words caught in my throat and choked me, like smoke rising from a fire.

“You found food. That's good. I'll tell ya, Wilson,” He paused as the smile, stretching from ear to ear, covered his face again, “I'll tell ya that not everyone is as entertaining as you are, guy. You're a hell of a fighter, I have to say. Kudos to you, Wil! Kudos! I do have some bad news for you, though.”

My peripheral vision had caught movement of the darkness. It had surrounded me completely. As though highlighted by powerful stage lights, we were the only visible things nearby. Beacons.

“That terror beak took a nasty stab at ya there, Wilson. In fact,” he grimaced, “A fatal stab.”

The smile returned, “But don't you worry, pal. I understand it's hard out there, a rough place, see? I'm not entirely without mercy, buddy. I've got your back, I do!” A thundering laugh echoed through the darkness, followed by a response of high pitched, tinny laughter.

As he snapped his fingers, I felt myself start to be pulled away, through the darkness, and he said one final thing. I'm writing this, yes, from memory, but it is an event that I do not believe is easily forgotten.

As I started to lift away from him, the darkness finished his thoughts, speaking slowly, “If I were you, I'd be careful, because this ain't happening again. I hear through the grapevine that you want to kill me, Wilson. You want to take that spear and drive it right through my beating heart. Well, you better.”

Right before I woke up, I hung in the air while the tinny laughter rose to a cacophony and stopped. Maxwell's voice broke through once more, “And Wilson,”

“Now you know what's in the darkness.”

Then I woke up.

-Wilson

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the1SAR    13

I've read all of these, and I have to say I really like them. You did a good job! I'll be looking forward to what happens next.

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Battal    9,884

This is awesome...even more awesome that finding an unprotected human fool in the middle of the night. And ripping him. To shreds.

Man, I haven't done that in a long time.

That's because you're on our side now, Wither. And don't get any ideas.

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Snob    1,272

You're an amazing writer. The music really helped the immersion, bravo!

Posted Image

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Vynik21    19

Update number five marked the end of, I guess, act one! I tried to consolidate everything in the first post that I have so far, but I continued to get errors trying to edit.

I plan on getting Update 6 up a little later tonight, the start of Act 2? Part 2?

I just wanted to make this post to thank everyone for reading up to this point, for the positive feedback, and giving me a reason to continue writing it. I greatly appreciate it! :)

And thank you Raven Crow, negaman, kaiwolff, Mr. MonsterMeat, the1SAR, Lord_Battal, Syd, and Snob!

Coming soon! Part 2!

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Vynik21    19

And now we begin Part 2 of Wilson's descent into madness and his adventure to destroy Maxwell!

(Sidenote: Is there a way to change the title of a thread? It's not super important, but I wish I could make it a little snappier to attract more readers. I think Intellectual Treatise was a mistake, since it sounds pretty boring as I read the title.)

This update is a longish one and I sure hope you guys enjoy it as much as the first part. I'm particularly excited about Part 2 myself.

Day 24 - #1

The bitter cold has made it a struggle to stay alive, even for me. As time passes, the need to extricate myself from this wasteland is becoming stronger, not just for my own personal survival, but perhaps that of the beyond.

The struggle of the soul, as it were, has been a popular discussion throughout history, stretching to modern day and, specifically, modern day science. I have, being the pioneering man I am, researched the speculation of the soul extensively. I have written up experiments, hypotheses, plans, and theories that hold firm to the belief that if the soul exists, it can be made useful to man. However, my experiments have consistently failed to bear fruit. I have resigned myself to the physical realm.

This is my first entry since my encounter with Maxwell. Since then, I have had a change of.. mindset. I have no desire to encounter him again, helpless as a newborn pup. I grip my spear in resistance, sitting next to a dwindling campfire.

As always, I tell myself, I have a plan.

-Wilson

Day 24 - #2

I have relocated my camp from the middle of a small grouping of trees, now charred, that bordered the previous home of the Tallbird. The rocks, grass, and smell of carbon leaking into the air reminded me of the unpleasant events that have transpired since I've been here. My journal is becoming less of a scientific treatise and more of an emotional crutch. I feel, of course, despondent due to the change in the nature of my writings, but I need an anchor.

I have looked introspectively and I am positively terrified by what I have seen.

Thus, I mark this new set of journal entries as a paradigm shift of sorts. Much has transpired since my last meeting with Maxwell, including my wounds, imaginary or real, disappearing upon waking. The words continue to ring in my head as an ever present reminder, “Now you know what is in the darkness.”

Evil doesn't only exist in darkness, Maxwell.

-Wilson

Day 24 - #3 – Midday – Afternoon

I struggle to shift the nature of this journal back to a scientific baseline with every passing entry, but I fail. Today, however, I do believe my mind is sharper than it has been on this island, thanks to sleep and focusing my mind on some new, practical inventions. I have created something I call a heat-stone. It holds heat remarkably well, allowing me to venture out from the campfire without freezing to death in this horrendously cold environment. I regret to admit that I am still utilizing the... rabbit earmuffs, as well as a new vest created from spider silk.

It took me a little while, of course, but now that temperatures have dipped, I believe it was a worthwhile use of my time. The most worthwhile.

Also, during my time away from documentation, I have encountered a group of... I suppose the only way to describe them is pigmen. Pig men. They do not speak in English, as it were, but I can understand them nonetheless. They open their mouths and all I hear are instruments. Flutes, trumpets, trombones, etc. It is quite odd.

In fact, sometimes, when I find myself speaking aloud, I hear the trumpets as well. I hope beyond hope that I am not suffering from a dementia due to my dream. Maybe it's an imbalance of humors..

-Wilson

Day 24 - #4 – Dusk

I encountered one of the Pig Men today. He was frightened, terrified, but through a bit of diplomacy, I managed to communicate successfully. I fed him a couple of rabbit morsels that I had been saving for myself, as he looked undeniably hungry. I am as well, but if these are intelligent creatures, then they are integral to my plans involving Maxwell.

They seem like simple beasts, craving only sleep, food, and procreation. I wonder, then, if violence is in their nature. Or even war? Pig Men slaughtering each other over tracts of barren wasteland in Hell itself. Not too long ago, I would have chalked the idea up to insanity.

-Wilson

Day 24 - #5 – Night

I close my eyes and fight off Mozart, the music, the imagery, with every neuron, nerve, cell, synapse, organ, and FIBER of my being. Getting through the night has always been difficult, but since my dream, since... that. It is impossible. I find myself wandering, my mind blinking in and out of corners and chasms that house hideous apparitions and imaginings. I imagine my spear driving into the skull of hounds, the cry of the Tallbird, and Maxwell's grinning mouth, his teeth replaced by black tendrils.

If my eyes remain closed, I see him laughing at me, goading me into spiritual subjugation. If I open them, I see the shadows smiling at me, staring at me with unblinking eyes. Their eyes are ever present and there is nothing I can do about it.

Suicide sometimes crosses my mind, as it did when I first arrived, but now... now I fear what that will mean for my soul, a fear I have never had.

-Wilson

Day 25 - #1 – Daybreak

The sun, at last. As the orb of fire peeked timidly over the horizon, the pigs begin to stir into their daily routine. I have been watching them for a small time now, a few days, and they are magnificent creatures. Savage and base, of course, but magnificent nonetheless.

It is a dark, dreary day when I find myself pleased that I have found a pig as a conversational partner.

The one I fed seems to be approaching my campfire. I shall continue this later.

-Wilson

Day 25 - #2

Two more Pig Men have joined the one I fed. From what I can gather, the one I fed, who I will name Frederic, has been extolling my virtues to his “friends”, or perhaps simply other members of his tribe. Before they dismissed me with a terse, “GET AWAY!” or “TOO CLOSE!” Now, however, they greet me with familiarity, with a semblance of friendship. It feels... remarkable to have interaction on this island, even if it is with creatures that are, for all intents and purposes, intellectually barren.

He offered me a large, golden nugget and pointed at a camp far away. His angry fluting and trumpeting seems to suggest a feud or disagreement with another group.

As I write and watch, it appears that they have begun constructing homes near my campsite.

This is quite a strange turn of events.

-Wilson

Day 25 - #3

Five more Pig Men have joined me! I have a veritable battalion of Pig Men who believe me to be some sort of hero, or god maybe?

Frederic, the leader of the band, from my understanding, knows me only as D sharp, A sharp, D sharp. While I am not aware of the significance of that musically, I do understand the coincidence of it spelling DAD. It terrifies me to think of them thinking that I am their father, although, I believe, that is a stretch. They are only notes, after all.

It is quite odd that sometimes I can understand them perfectly while other times.. It's just noise.

-Wilson

Day 25 - #4

I followed Frederic and his.. tribe mate, Piggy (seems fitting), to the neighboring group of pigs that he had pointed to so angrily before. Piggy is a slower, weaker Pig Man(Woman?), but seems relatively intelligent and capable of diplomacy.

I am writing as they speak. They do so sometimes angrily, sometimes in a more friendly tone. If I was still in any state to document scientific findings, this would be the absolute pinnacle. I would be written up in journals and be the most famed scientist in the world for this discovery alone.

I cannot express how disappointed I am that I have to worry about my own survival.

-Wilson

Day 25 - #5 – Dusk – Violence Returns

As though William Golding had written a deadly portent with Lord of the Flies, the ill-fated but appropriately named Piggy has met a tragedy. No.. That is selling short his role in our tribe.

The relations seemed to be going relatively well, but just as we were about to venture back to our side of the swamp, one of the Pig Men on the other side cracked Piggy in the back of the head with a rock. I watched the blood seep from the Pig Man as he squealed and fluted and trumpeted and tromboned in pain. His screams were screeching violins and his death gurgle was a grim drum roll that shattered my will.

Violence erupted – war erupted. Frederic was almost victim himself, but my spear caught the rival Pig Man in the eye, producing a sickening squish that pulled Piano Concerto 21 back from the recesses of my mind. His squeal mixed with a cello vibrato that alarmed me deeply.

Frederic shouted, his voice perfectly clear against the orchestra of violence, “GO!” he said. “RUN! D sharp A sharp D sharp!” “WARN!”

I stayed behind to ensure Frederic's safety and almost returned for Piggy, but he had lost too much blood. He was dead.

My revenge against the rival Pig Man felt different than slaughtering a rabbit or hound. It was bigger and more significant. It was almost human.

I worry how I will cope with the night as Mozart returns, flooding my brain case once again. Violence drips from the end of my spear and congratulatory harmonics echoing from the Pig Men send me deeper into myself.

I feel him returning. Why does he like violence so much? Why do I like violence so much? I am a man of science but it returns and suddenly I do not care about math and science because it is weak.

I am strong and they are weak.

WE are strong and THEY are weak! WE ARE STRONG!

-W

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Syd    232

Let me know what you would like the thread's title to be changed to, and I (or one of the other moderators) can take care of it.

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Vynik21    19

Let me know what you would like the thread's title to be changed to, and I (or one of the other moderators) can take care of it.

I wasn't sure if I should shoot you a message or just respond, so I'll just respond! If you could change it to "The Unnatural Journal of a Mad Scientist", I think that would be better. Although, titles have never been my strong suit. Thank you, Syd! Or whoever else changes the title! Or if you have any suggestions. :)

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Syd    232

Should be taken care of now. :)By the way, the latest entry was excellent. I'm looking forward to more.

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Vynik21    19

Should be taken care of now. :)By the way, the latest entry was excellent. I'm looking forward to more.

I appreciate the change, and thank you! Not 100% about my new title choice, but we'll see how it goes! The next update should be later tonight if I finish up everything else I need to do. Anyway, I'll stop spamming my own thread now =P Thanks again :)

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the1SAR    13

I'm already liking part 2! The way you handled Wilson's encounter with the pig men... I liked it. I'll be looking forward to what happens next.

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Very good! I love how it dips into Wilson's insanity near the end from neglect of sanity. Defintely spot-on keep them up! Maybe the next update will give you ideas.

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