Ark Fiction: Unhappy Thanksgiving

 

By Bixyl Shuftan

It was his first Thanksgiving here, and it was going to be just like any old day.

It was weeks ago when Fred's old life of being an IRS auditor had come to a sudden interruption, and he woke up with nothing but underwear on a beach. Nothing but some weird thingy afixed to his wrist. The second shock was that he saw a dodo waddling nearby. Then he saw dinosaurs, some plant eaters at first. But then some little guys ran up and started biting away. He punched away, but they were getting bite after bite in, and he had to run away. Thankfully he found some berries to eat to regain his energy, and after getting some wood and stone and flint began making some tools. 

Over time, he made more and better things, starting off with a straw hut, and was soon able to upgrade to wood. But he wasn't the only one on the island. While some were friendly, some weren't and it wasn't long before his wooden hut was broken into, and he got knocked out, waking up on his straw bed once again with nothing but his undies and everything of value in his storage looted. So he rebuilt, this time a place with stone walls and reinforced wooden doors. And he expanded it as time went on. There was his crafting area, with a workbench, forge, and motor and pestle for mixing narcotics, sparkpowder, gunpowder, and more. There was his preserving bin where he stored meat and berries. There were his storage cabinets with stone, wood, spare clothes and weapons, and more supplies. He'd eventually managed to tame one dino for riding, someone called it a parasaur, and captured and tamed a raptor to help him hunt. They would rest in a stable room that was part of the stone base. He'd made a bow and arrow, replaced his stone-tipped spears with an iron spar, and now had a black powder weapon, a rifled musket. His homemade cloth clothes were now leather with a chest of chittin armor. 

And so life was, okay, but not great. As boring as his old tax office job was, he missed it. Instead here he was living a life that was mostly boredom with the occasional five minutes of terror. He'd had to outrun T-Rexes a couple times. And he'd tangled with nightmarishly huge scorpions that temporarily paralyzed his raptor and he had to finish off. But it was mostly gathering wood and stone, with the occasional lucky find of metal and the strange supply drops that came down in beams of light. 

On this day that started off like so many others, he rode on his para with the raptor beside them, looking around. Then going past a group of trees, he noticed a clearing. And in the middle of it was something he couldn't believe he was seeing: a turkey! It was an honest to goodness real turkey, here on this strange island of extinct creatures! A big and fat one too, "Gobble-gobble-gobble." He couldn't believe his luck. "Oh thank goodness!" He spoke to himself, "Thanksgiving has arrived, and one turkey dinner coming up!" 

He got of his ride, signaled the raptor to wait, and he crept up to the bird. It didn't seem to notice him, "Gobble-gobble-gobble." "Perfect," he thought, as he readied his metal pike. No need to use a bullet on this oblivious bird. So he crept up to it, as it continued to peck and wander about, "Gobble-goggle-gobble." Then he thrust forward his metal point...

It felt like he stabbed a sack full of sand, the spar going in some, but not a lot. The bird squawked, but instead of running, turned to face him and trotted right at him, "Gobble-gobble-gobble." Fred was momentarily puzzled, why this bird too fat to fight was after him. But he figured it would make finishing it off that much easier. And so he thrust his spar again at it, which knocked it back a little, but it didn't seem hurt. And it came after him again, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" 

Getting frustrated, Fred thrust the spar at the bird again, and again, and again. But he didn't seem to be hurting it much. Then once he was slow to stab at it, and the bird thrust it's big beak at his leg. "OW!! Damn!" It had cut through his leather pants and left a huge gash on his thigh. How could such a clumsy looking bird hit so hard? 

Deciding it was time to use stronger stuff, he backed up, got out his musket, loaded in a bullet, and fired. The bird was knocked back, but still didn't look hurt, and it was still coming after him, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" He blinked, backed up some, reloaded, and fired again. Once again, the bird was knocked back, but it got back up and continued to waddle at him, "Gobble-gobble-gobble." Frustrated, he backed up again, reloaded, and fired, repeating the process several more times until he was out of ammo. The bird seemed to be bleeding a little, but it was still after him, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" He then got out his bow, and began firing arrows. He used a couple dozen, but the bird seemed unfazed, still going after him, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!"

Amazed, he ran back over to his dinosaurs, and signaled to his raptor, "Malcom, attack!" And the quick predator leaped into action, charging at the turkey with a shriek, claws extended. It attacked fiercely, biting and clawing. And the turkey responded by using it's cruel beak, inflicting vicious wounds on the raptor. Fred was shocked. How could this turkey be beating them?! He then charged in, stabbing at the fowl once again with his pike. It was knocked back some, but continued to try and snap at the raptor. Fred stabbed again and again. Then the turkey made another lucky strike on his hip, causing him to scream as it sliced through the leather and bit deep. Backing up and noticing how bloody his raptor was, he decided it was time to retreat, signaling the raptor to follow, and ran back to his mount, getting on it, and running off, his wounded sidekick right behind them.

Some time later, they were back at the base. Fred bandaged Malcom, cursing their luck. How could that clumsy-looking bird have beat the tar out of them? It would take some time to make new bullets and arrows, and he would need to repair his pike. Maybe later on he could build a trap for the bird. If he couldn't kill it, maybe it would be useful tamed and used as a meat shield when attacking predators.

 

"Gobble-gobble-gobble!"

What the hey?

"Gobble-gobble-gobble!"

Fred opened the stable door, and there was the turkey! It had somehow followed them here, and now here it was waddling toward his base. "Gobble-gobble-gobble!"

He promptly shut the door, and locked it with a bar, "How in the blue blazes did that thing ... well, no way it can get through this! Solid wood reinforced with iron."

The turkey's gobbles got closer and closer, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" Then came the sounds of something battering at the door, hard. Before long, he noticed the wood starting to break, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" Then it shattered, and the bird trotted through the wreckage, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!"

"NO! Impossible!"

The bird began wadding towards him, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" 

"Malcom! Para! Attack!!" Cornered, Fred was desperate, and ordered his two dinosaurs to fight the seemingly indestructible fowl. As they chomped and clawed at it, he would use his metal spar on it. But the bird was as tough as before, ripping away the raptor's bandages, inflicting more deep wounds, and the predator gave a death rattle and collapsed. Then it was the mount's turn, and after a few strikes from the turkey, already it showed deep wounds, Then it too collapsed. 

"Noooooo! My dinos!"

"Gobble-gobble-gobble!" The turkey was now free to focus on Fred, who jabbed at it hard with his spar. Then there was a SNAP noise, and the spar had broken in two. The turkey lunged at him, and tore off a piece of his chittin armor.  He retreated to the next room and shut the door, then headed to the workbench.

"Gobble-gobble-gobble!" The turkey then began pounding on the door. 

From the workbench, Fred got a spare spar, and some more bullets. He then went to the cabinet and got some arrows. He'd make that bird pay for killing his pets. Then the turkey smashed through the door, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" Fred shot at it with his musket, then reloaded and did so again and again, several times. The bird was looking more hurt, with a few more wounds, but after each knockback it still kept coming. He then fired his arrows at it while keeping the workbench between himself ant the freak creature. It hammered away at the bench, until it splintered and fell apart. Fred got his spare spar and slowly retreated, trying to use other cabinets in the room as partial cover. The bird just smashed them all, the contents spilling all over the floor, then smashing and tearing them, "My stuff! No!"

Fred backed up into the last room, his sleeping quarters. Instead of shutting the door, he was trying to use the frame as a partial shield as he thrust his metal spar at it again and again, "Why don't you just die?!" The bird was looking like it was developing serious wounds, but it still kept coming, and hammering at the stone wall, causing it to crack,"Gobble-gobble-gobble!"

Finally, the stone wall shattered, and the unbelievably tough turkey stepped through, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" This was it. No where else to run. Fred jabbed again and again at the bird. He was getting exhausted, and occasionally he would slow down and the bird would get a bite in, tearing through his leather gloves and pants, or chittin chest armor, "Ahhhhh!"

Finally, the metal pike cracked with a *SNAP*! Desperate, Fred then got his pickaxe and went after it with that. By this time, the bird looked severely wounded, bleeding and blood was dripping onto the floor. But it was still attacking, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!" And the pickaxe was a poor weapon, with the mutant bird getting in more bites than ever, "OW!" "Ahhhh!" Fred's gloves and pants were shredded, then his chitten armor shattered. He felt his arm bone go snap, and his body was racked with pain. How many more hits before this monstrosity would finally be ended?

Then the bird's cruel beak got in one good hard lunge, plunging into his gut, "WAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!" Fred fell down, all going black, the only sounds being his screams as the bird continued to peck at him, and it's neverending chatter, "Gobble-gobble-gobble!"

How humiliating. In his old life, as a tax auditor he was feared by most everyone. Corporations gave him pause. In this one, he'd killed many dinosaurs, outwitted and outran T-Rexes and other alpha predators. Only to be done in by a ...

YOU HAVE JUST BEEN KILLED BY TURKEY

The next thing Fred knew, there was the sound of the surf, and the cooing of some bird. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was back on the beach, in only his underwear. But there were no wounds on him. He was just like he was many weeks ago. 

Thinking about the state of his base, he began running back to it, keeping an eye out for any nasties. It took a while, but he got back to the site. He blinked his eyes. It was almost entirely gone, reduced to a pile of rubble with an occasional splinter or shred of leather or cloth. The monstrosity must have continued to destroy everything. He walked up to it, disheartened, then collapsed, sobbing. All his work, done over many weeks, all gone. 

"Excuse me?"

Fred, tears going down his face, looked over. There was a man, in simple cloth clothes and shoes, with a stone hatchet and axe, and a few spears. He probably had been on the island for a couple days. 

"You look like you just got here too. I haven't been around long, just a few hours. But once I saw one of those huge dinos from a distance, I figured I better get to work, and the survival course I once took helped out. Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. My name's Melvin Jones."

"F-Fred Smith."

"Well Fred, you're going to need some energy, and I happened to have just made a big kill. I haven't made a smokehouse yet, so you might as well dig in before it spoils." The man motioned him to follow, and Fred did, not knowing what else to do and still in a bit of shock.

Before long, he could smell something cooking, something familiar. And they came to a campfire where there was something on a spit-roast over a campfire. And next to it were some feathers, turkey feathers, and a familiar-looking head. 

"I found this thing wandering about, bloody and wounded. I guess some predator attacked it, but got distracted before it could finish it off. So I put it out of it's misery. A few pokes with a spear, and that put it out of it's misery. So here we are, turkey dinner."

Fred starred. This noob had beaten the monstrosity that had destroyed everything he had. He must have been only an inch away from ending the beast, and all it took for this noob to do it was just a few blows. 

"I think we're about done." Melvin then took a cooked leg and handed it to Fred, "It's hot, so wait a little before eating. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving."

Fred wasn't sure whether to smile or cry, "H-happy Thanksgiving."

Bixyl Shuftan

Additional pictures from arkfandom.com and Papa Sean