I bounded forward, ducking against the standing stone.

The barbed tail swung by my head so close I felt the breeze through my hair. A cloud of sand whirled in its wake as the bird beat its wings against the air, changing course and turning again for me and the stone. It circled low, one wing brushing the sand.

I put the stone between myself and the bird, and before I could make a dash for anywhere else, the creature closed the gap. It reached its talons out, perched on the rock and spread its wings, glaring down at me with wide white eyes.

And then I realized what it was. The yellow feathers. The yellow beak. The red legs and talons. Unlike the kid’s show character, this one had real wings. And it was angry. Really angry.

Creature Discovered

- Large Bird -

Challenge: 2

I know, I know. For Copyright reasons we had to change the name a little, but you should recognize this friendly fella. They’re a little different here as you might have noticed. The apex predators of the air, their harpoon-like tails lash out against prey both winged and legged and drag them through the sky back to their high altitude nests. We don’t offer helicopter tours of the island, but a tail through the gullet is the next best thing.

Fucking Big Bird!?

CAW!

I yelled and leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the swift jab of its tail. I ran around to the other side of the stone, and then doubled back when it spun to face me. Ducking left and right, pouncing from one side of the rock to the other, I kept Big Bird from locking eyes directly with its prey.

I’d played this game with my niece before, spinning around her while she twirled until she got dizzy and fell over. Sesame Street was probably even playing in the background.

This was decidedly less fun.

The tail snapped out, piercing the earth at my heel, then whipped out a second time, cutting at the air where it thought I might go next. I slipped, landing on my tailbone long enough for Big Bird to see me. It spun, tail swinging down to rend me in two.

I rolled to the side, swiping aimlessly with my knife. There was a screech, and a splatter of blood across my body. When I pushed myself to my feet, I noticed my knife was painted red.

With an angry caw, Big Bird took off and away, flying high out over the water. I was about to relax when I saw the shape turn again, back towards land, directly at me.

“Oh shit,” I said.

Status Received

- Minor Break -

It’s no Cthulhu, but something’s got you spooked. Your Sanity is decreasing at a rate of 0.5%/min while in range of the source of your fear. If that source is a creature, you risk escalating into a Major Break. GTFO.

I didn’t have time to ponder the headache induced pop-up. I was fucking running. I Bolted out of there as quickly as I could manage with my feet sinking in the sand, hoping to make it to the tree line before the bird could—

A hot sting in my calf broke my escape. I stumbled forward, leg giving out. The knife flew from my grasp. Talons raked my legs, forcing me to roll onto my back and face the bird, now on top of me.

Its huge form was even more apparent at this distance. The wings shadowed me from the sun, and the beak, twice the size of my head, opened with a baleful shriek. I screamed in reply. A greenish cloud left my mouth, billowing around the creature’s head. It sizzled, snapping and crackling like a strip of bacon laid in a frying pan.

Ability Discovered

- Noxious Gas -

Con: 1

Tier: 0

Duration: 2 hours

Your breath might stink and your farts may end ecosystems, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to weaponize it. You create harmful fumes to targets on impact. Experiment to find other hidden uses. 10% con/use.

The bird bounced off my body, thrashing its head and flapping desperately. It crashed, rolling in the sand, struggling to find its feet.

I dragged myself away from the knock-off monstrosity, making for the trees as swiftly as I could in a half limping, half falling forward motion. I managed to spot the knife and sweep it into my grasp. Behind me the screeches were loud, and angry. A quick look over my shoulder caught sight of Big Bird upright again. It spotted me.

It took to the air, circling away to gain height and momentum, before angling down at me like a homing missile.

Come on, I urged myself—urged my body. Come on, come on! I fought to stay on my feet, the surge of adrenaline helping me block the pain enough to sprint, to run, to leap.

I landed beneath the palm trees, barreling over my shoulder and slamming into a trunk. The bird swept low and slashed out at the ground, throwing dust and dirt into the air, before curving back up again. It cawed and shrieked, the sounds of it gradually fading in the distance.

Above, the canopy of leaves seemed to be enough of a shield.

I sighed, resting my back against the tree. I’m safe. For now.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Status Received

- Bleeding -

Bloody hell. Holey shit. You just scraped by that one. Your Vitality is decreasing at a rate of 0.5%/min. Patch it up, doc.

“Shut up,” I told the prompt, voice, thing. Whatever it was.

Bleeding and minor break. Vitality and sanity. Big Bird. I felt insane, and any spryness I got from the elixir was rapidly leaking out of my body. Status effects and actual stats. This was definitely a game of some kind, but for what purpose I couldn’t say. The frustrating part was that no matter how much I thought of my own name, the name of the stats or of summoning what might be my character menu, nothing came up. If my vitality was hovering at one percent, I wouldn’t know it.

As I sat under the tree, my back against the bark, I slowed my breathing and focused on orchestrating the drumming in my chest down to its regular rhythm. Big Bird was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

Status Lost

- Minor Break -

Breathe in, breathe out. The baddy’s gone. There’s no monster in the closet. Well, there is, and its going to kill you, but go to sleep, please.

You are no longer losing Sanity.

You have to take your victories where you can.

Noxious gas. That was the other thing I had been notified about, and it happened to be the ability that likely saved me from becoming Big Bird’s big breakfast. I breathed in and exhaled deeply. The smoky fumes rolled through the air, spreading quickly, rising, some of it landing on a nearby tree and coating the bark in a shiny film. The gas quickly dissipated.

But why the duration? Two hours. It was oddly specific.

The blood on my legs reminded me of my injuries. I grunted and used the knife to cut away at the loose fabric, losing most of my pants in the process. None of the wounds looked particularly debilitating. Still, without a CVS I would be dead by tomorrow.

So, first thing was first: stop dying.

Shaking the canteen revealed it was about three quarters full. I twisted the cap off and gave it a quick whiff to make sure it actually was water. When I confirmed it was, I began dripping it very deliberately over my wounds as best I could with shaky hands. I had to conserve as much of it as possible. There was no way to know when—or how—I would get more.

After my wounds were cleaned and the blood washed away, I sloshed the water in the canteen a second time. Half-full. I took a sip, the smallest I could accept, to wet my cracked lips.

The minutes rolled by. The sun arced through the sky, beginning to make its slow descent over the island. Clouds drifted in, draping everything in shadow as the gradient of pink to purple over the ocean remained the last major source of light.

It was still bright enough for me to work, but I was running out of time. I needed fire. I needed shelter. I needed food. Fuck, I needed so many things.

But before all else, I needed to live.

The knife was sharp, which I was thankful for, as I worked at hacking away the lowest branches of nearby trees. I shaved off as many leaves as I could gather, gave them a quick rinse, and pressed them up against my wounds. They stuck easily, and quickly turned dark with blood. I gathered more and layered them across each other, and then began cutting portions of the coiled rope, tying the cut sections around the injuries to hold my makeshift bandages in place.

Status Lost

- Bleeding -

Little known fact: blood isn’t supposed to be outside your body. You know this, as you have shown.

You are no longer losing Vitality.

Achievement Unlocked

- Craft an Improvised Item -

You’ve managed to craft for yourself something out of raw materials. It may be simple, but it is helpful. On a scale from Wilson to Tom Hanks, you’re a solid 4. More creativity than a volleyball, to be sure.

Reward

- Favour +1 (-1) -

There was that favour again. As far as I was concerned it was a useless metric. So far it didn’t seem to have any noticeable negative effects, but thinking too deeply about that would only distract from the tasks at hand.

And favour with who? The only interaction I had since arriving on the island was a voice in the sky. There was Mr. Pink on the airplane, but were they the same person? Different? There was no connection in the sound of the voice that I could make out. Mr. Pink knew about the box, so whoever he was, he must've been involved somehow.

Favour, vitality and sanity had been the only metrics I’d been given so far. The only tangible numbers attached to my name. Achievements. Rewards. Abilities. If those were all part of the game, there could be other stats involved, numbers that would be helpful to know about to orient myself. I wouldn’t be opposed to a high strength stat, or dexterity. Anything useful would be a boon.

I looked over to the standing stone. I might learn a little more if I could get to that. A quick scan of the danger near the beach revealed Big Bird was soaring high above. It made wide circles over the sand and sea, before perching atop the cliff, not far from the stone. I sighed.

That was its nest. A direct view over the beach, with a straight shot down to the standing stone. If I went out there now, and it spotted me, I would be saying goodbye to my new island home within seconds. I didn’t know if I had it in me to make that mistake again. Besides, I had no idea what touching the stone a second time would do.

I would need to deal with that creature eventually. Big Bird would have its time. But not yet.

At the risk of developing a migraine, I turned my focus back to my surroundings. I didn’t want to go too deep into the woods without at least setting up camp and finding food, but I couldn’t go back to the beach. So I’d stay where I was.

Okay, next thing.

Fire.

It didn’t take long before I was standing before a bundle of sticks and branches I’d gathered from the area, flint in one hand and steel in the other. I tried to position the branches to stand against each other, like a teepee, with some kindling beneath it. All of my technique came from years of watching a handful of YouTube videos, the occasional Myth Busters episode, and my sophomore college year where me and my friends tried to start a bonfire that one time.

Needless to say, starting a fire was tough. Keeping it going was even harder.

Scraping the flint against steel was monotonous after a while. There would be a spark, it would hit the kindling, there’d be a tiny puff of smoke, and then nothing. Once in a while I gasped when a little orange light formed, and I would lean as close to the ground as I could and blow—the noxious gas had already worn off. The orange light would glow, spread, and then die. Every time.

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

The shadows closed in, looming large and filling the gaps between trees, heralding the setting sun. Behind me, a diffuse strip of night along the horizon was extending its starlit tendrils across the rest of the sky.

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

It wasn’t long before the main sources of light were the intermittent sparks and occasional pumpkin orange embers fluttering to the ground. The tall foliage and wide-leaved plants, looking like something straight out of Jurassic Park, loomed in the darkness.

Scrape. Scrape. Whoosh.

I dropped the flint and steel and flattened onto my belly. I blew desperately at the small flame, forcing it to bend and dance towards the rest of the kindling. Slowly, its arms grasped a second twig, a third. The flames licked upward, setting the entire teepee alight.

“Yes! Yes!” I cried, leaping to my feet and pounding my chest at the sky. "Yes!"

Achievement Unlocked

- Start a Fire -

You are Prometheus. You are a master of flame. Just don’t burn the forest down and we good.

Reward

- Favour +1 (0) -

The bubble of ruddy firelight expanded to embrace my little nook of the woods. It was warm. Comforting. A memory of sitting in front of the fireplace with my sister and niece brought me back down from my brief high. Lisa was sitting on my lap, tinkering with my old Gameboy SP. She mashed the buttons, turned it over in her hands and examined it from odd angles. It hadn’t turned on in years, but she was transfixed. Jan rested her head on my shoulder, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa. The smell was striking. Cinnamon.

I smiled and huddled close to the campfire, palms open to it. My stomach growled. That was next on my list, but for now I was content to enjoy the slice of tranquility I had carved for myself.