Dododex
ARK: Survival Evolved & Ascended Companion
The Terrible Demise Of Tortuga
Chapter six: Don’t fear the reaper..
-By SunnyFox57
Originally released sometime in January, 2024. Now rewritten and reposted February 1th, 2026)
The walk home was for the most part unbearably uncomfortable. The peacekeeper, Paul, leading them forward looked upset. His scarred palms were wrapped tightly around the gun at his hip, mouth twisted into a thin line, eyes distant and almost contemplating. Jack was half expecting him to suddenly whirl around with his gun and blow their brains out or something at any moment. Elizabeth didn’t seem worried by him though. While the other kids were trailing a bit behind the man, she was walking alongside him, chattering on like nothing was wrong at all, recounting the events of the day and what happened at Lois’ shop.
“I didn’t really see it happen because I was like, busy trying on these REALLY pretty scarves, but my gosh, she looked so pale whenever Mrs. Lois helped her into the chair. I kind of thought she was dead, you know?? It just happened all of the sudden! Mrs. Lois looked so worried. I’m glad she’s dealt with this type of thing before, because honestly if I were that old I’d probably have a heart attack if a young girl just suddenly collapsed in my arms.”
Elizabeth stopped talking for a moment, if only to draw a deep breath. Paul only frowned at her in response, not bothering saying anything in his obvious disapproval.
“Jeez, what? What are you so pissed about today? What did I do?”
“I never said I was mad.”
“Call it intuition.”
Paul sighed in exasperation. “You remind me of your grandfather.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“No.”
Elizabeth elbowed at him, causing him to swerve abruptly off their path as he attempts to avoid it.
“So? What did I do?” She snickers.
Paul sighed again, relinquishing his grip on his gun for a moment, to rub at his forehead, as he falls back into pace beside her. “You didn’t do anything Elizabeth. I’m just curious…as to why you decided to be out wandering around the city so late. Especially with…” He glanced at the kids behind him for a second and his jaw tightens. “Strangers.”
“I wasn’t WANDERING around the city. We were at Lois’ shop. And they’re not strangers, not to me. Yeah, they’re a bit odd but pretty friendly enough. I like them.”
Jack stopped listening to where the conversation after that. He knew in what direction it was headed. The way the people in this city, just like all the places before that, mistrusted his family was not new to him at all. They were always found strange, or just simply mistrusted. His mother thought this place would be different. As if somehow the people here wouldn’t think of them just like all the others had. A fresh start. Somehow he doubted that.
“Well. Here we are!” Elizabeth practically sang as they finally reached the Petersons home.
“Thanks for helping us home.” Jay said, studying the peacekeeper that had led them here, curiously. Some might assume that he was thinking the same thing as Jack, as they were twins and apparently “twins think alike”, but Jack knew better. He was nothing like his twin, besides his physical appearance. Jay was brave. Braver than Jack was at least. HE certainly wasn’t thinking about the very possible possibility that Paul could easily just kill them off right then and there.
“You sure you’re okay?” Elizabeth asks Emma, taking their older sister’s hands in hers briefly and squeezing them.
Emma nods, cheeks still faintly flushed with embarrassment probably at all the stir she’d unintentionally caused. “Yeah. I’m good. Thank you, both of you..for helping us home.”
Paul cleared his throat gruffly, his face expression practically oozing with frustration despite trying to hide it. “Okay, Elizabeth. Let them go inside now. I’m sure their..parents are worried about them. Not to mention, YOU need to go home.”
And so, on that note, Paul and Elizabeth departed off towards the Buckleshoots’ house presumably and the Petersons went into theirs.
~
Aragorn had been pacing the length of the of the living room for nearly half and hour. back and forth in agitation, hands in his hair, while Arianna made dinner, and it honestly was starting to drive her crazy. She loved her husband, but his tendency of stressing over things that were not his fault or completely out of his control had a way of grating on her last nerves, especially when he’d been at it for this long.
“Why aren’t they home yet? Do you think something happened? Maybe I should go check on them. Actually. I should. I knew we shouldn’t have come here. This was such a bad idea. A very bad idea.”
Arianna leans against the kitchen counter, tightening the strings on her apron at her waist, trying to interrupt the torrent of worries pouring from her husband’s mouth like vomit.
“I’m sure they’re fine, Aragorn. They probably got distracted playing with their new friends. They’ll be home soon hopefully.”
“But what if they aren’t? You heard what that guy, Arnold—“
“Aaron.”
“Right. Him. You heard what he said about the night protocols. About the peacekeepers. About—about things.” Aragorn gestured vaguely, frustration bleeding through every movement. “We don’t know these people, Arianna. We don’t know this place.”
Arianna exhales slowly through her nose.
“Aragorn.”
“What if the kids were pulled over or something?”
“Aragorn.”
“The point is, we can only assume the worst and—”
“Ja-ragorn!” Arianna finally snaps, voice cracking through the room like a whip. Aragorn stops mid-step, blinking at her as though he’d only just realized she was there. Arianna turns fully to face him, hands planting firmly against her hips.
“I understand that you’re worried,” she begins, measured but sharp. “Truly, I do. But pacing a hole through the floor of the living room and worrying yourself to death will not summon them home any faster.” He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Our children,” she continues, voice a bit softer now, “Are not completely helpless, anymore. Nor have they been in any event of the past. Emma is nearly grown, she’s basically a woman now. Jack and Jay are sensible when it matters. They look out for Josephina. They will take care of each other, just like we taught them.”
Aragorn opens his mouth once more to say something, probably in protest, but is quickly interrupted as his wife steps closer
“And if something did happen, we would feel it. You know that.”
That gave him a pause. Aragorn sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know. I just…” He rubs at his face in exhaustion. “I hate not being able to protect them, all the time. It makes me feel..helpless.” He shivers slightly, expression darkening.
“I know. I understand that. I really do.” Arianna’s expression softened, and she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “HOWEVER, nothing is going to happen to them, babe. We’re safe here. Everything will be okay, I promise.”
They stand there for a moment, foreheads pressed together, before Arianna briskly pulls away, turning back towards the counter. “Now. I need to finish dinner, and I need some help. If you’re going to be worrying, which I know you are, you may as well do something productive alongside that. Come help me.”
Aragorn blinked, tilting his head in such a confused puppy-dog way that it almost made his wife laugh.
“You need help..cooking? What?”
“The bread.” Arianna says, motioning the medium sized lump of batter she’d left on the counter a minute earlier.
Her husband blinks again. “I don’t know how to do that.”
Arianna makes a exasperated sound.
“Yeah, well, I’ll just have to teach you then, yes? Come on. Stop making excuses.” she continues, turning back toward the counter, “if you are going to spiral, you might as well do it productively. Come help me.”
Reluctantly, like a condemned man approaching the gallows, he followed her into the kitchen and shuffled up beside her at the counter. The yeast was already sitting out on the counter, where Arianna had left it. His wife pushes the bowl towards him, motioning to it.
“Knead it.”
He glanced at her, confused. “Do what now?”
She grabs his wrists, sighing in slight exasperation, and physically pushes them into the dough.
“Knead it. Fold it. Press. Don’t be gentle, but don’t tear it apart.”
Aragorn awkwardly does as she demonstrates, kneading the dough into the flour on the counter. He grimaces in disgust as the dough immediately sticks to his fingers.
“Its…sticky.”
Arianna stepped up back behind him, to look at how much progress he was making, which was basically none.
“Its supposed to like that. It’s dough.” She huffs. “You’ve seriously never done this before? Didn’t your mother ever teach you how to make bread?”
“No. Not of all our mothers were as culinary inclined like yours unfortunately, Arianna.”
She pinches his elbow at the jab at her mother, causing his hand to flimsily flex accidentally into the flour before him. The white dust shot up immediately, spattering all over his face and shirt, leading him to step back onto her bare feet with his heavy set boots.
“Ow!” His wife yelps in pain, glaring daggers. Aragorn whirls around, catching her by the waist
“Oops.” He says smoothly
Arianna continues glaring at him, not looking entertained at all. “You did that on purpose!”
Her husband tilts his head again, probably intentionally trying to look confounded. “Did WHAT on purpose? Step on your toes? I apologize, dear wife. Next time I get flour in my eyes, I’ll make sure to look where I’m going.”
For a moment she just stares at him and then she throws her head back, laughter spilling from her lips. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in forever. Not in large amounts anyways. Gosh, he loved that sound. A sound that was so infectious, he couldn’t help but join in.
“I’m soo sorry.” She finally gasps out, attempting to wipe flour from off him. “I should have know better, you’ve always been bad at cooking. You’re completely covered in flour, darling.” She chuckles.
“Ouch. I’m not sure that’s completely my fault. If I recall, YOU are the one who pinched ME, therefore leading me to INCIDENTALLY, step onto your bare feet.” He hums good-naturedly, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“You’re still standing on my toes.” Arianna points out but doesn’t make any move to step back. There’s a twinkle in her eyes. “You know what this reminds me of?”
“When you were “teaching” me to dance? I can’t say you did much of a better job at that than this.” Aragorn chuckles.
“Yes, well you’re not a very good student.”
“Or maybe, you’re just not a good teacher. Ever think about that?”
“Who taught our children these past couple years? You or me?”
Aragorn raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I give up. You’re an amazing and INCREDIBLY beautiful and talented teacher.”
“Aww, thank you. Maybe you’d like to demonstrate that sentiment by letting me re-teach you to dance, since apparently you’ve..forgotten, hmm?” Arianna grins.
And so he lets her, not so reluctantly as he might pretend. He places his worn palms in their respective places on her waist and her hands go to his shoulders, as they sway slowly back and forth in the tiny kitchen, foreheads slowly lowering to press together.
“We were so young back then.” Arianna finally chuckles, breaking the silence.
“Mmm. I thought you hated me, honestly.”
“I didn’t. You were…very aggravating, however. I thought you hated ME.”
Aragorn smiles softly, almost sadly. “I’m afraid I did. For no reason really. I guess I was just..jealous of you. You seemed to be this..perfect girl with a perfect life. And I..was a nobody. I didn’t deserve you then. Actually, I still don’t. Who am I to deserve you?”
Arianna stopped their swaying, shaking her head vigorously, and pressing their foreheads together once more. “You’ve already asked this question before.”
“Well, I still don’t have a valid answer.”
“Aragorn. Yes you do. Do you remember what I told you when you asked me the same thing on our wedding?”
His eyes close, swallowing, nodding slowly.
“I don’t care what you think. What anyone told you. I know who you are, okay? You are mine.” She whispers, their faces drifting together. And then her lips are pressed onto his gently, and all of his worries fade away for one singular moment.
Just then the front door opened, and the Peterson children tumbled in, one after another, interrupting their parents’ make-out session.
“Oh wow. PDA?? Maybe get a room??” Jay drawls, making fake vomiting sound.
“I think I’d rather be blind then see that again. Blegh, disgusting.” Jack pretends to shield his eyes.
Their parents sprang apart quickly, not really in embarrassment but just momentary surprised that their moment of silence had been so quickly interrupted.
“It’s our house, son. When you’re married you’ll understand that sometime—“
“Okay, can we not? I love that you love each other. Really. But at this particular moment in time, it is a mildly disturbing scene seeing our parents completely covered in flour and snogging in the middle of the kitchen as soon as we enter the house.” Emma interrupts her father.
“Yes. Not to mention, there are children in the room.” Jay continues in a mock higher pitched voice, pretending to shield their little sister’s eyes.
Their mother rolls her eyes slightly at their exaggerational reactions, shaking her head. “Alright, alright children. Thats enough of that. Go wash up for dinner.”
~
Soon after, they all sat down around the table for dinner. The bread, had unfortunately not been able to get finished so they were stuck with just hot bowls of soup.
“So,” Arianna said finally, interrupting the silence of clinking dishes together. “Did yall have fun today? Make any friends? Everything go okay?”
The three eldest children exchanged quick looks at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Their parents didn’t need to know about the small heat stroke Emma had suffered. No, definitely not. If anything, it would probably only make them more paranoid if that was even possible.
“It was fine. We met up with some of the other young people here. They were..interesting.” Emma responds.
“Some were nice.” Josephina says softly, surprising them all. She didn’t say anything else though, just continued gently tapping the spoon in her hand against the bowl before her.
“And some just a tad bit weird.” Jay snorts, earning a barely smothered chuckle from their father.
“Mm. Kids are usually like that around ya’ll’s ages.” Arianna hums
“Some a bit more than others.” Aragorn huffs pointedly at Arianna who pinches his elbow again.
“I seem to recall you and your siblings were pretty weird too, thank you very much.”
There was a pause, their father’s expression seemingly blanking out for a fraction of a second and then he forces a smile. It was quick, but Emma caught it. “Like you said, kids are weird.”
“Wait, you had siblings? Why have we never heard or seen them?” Jack says the question that most the children were undoubtedly thinking. Except Josephina probably, who still looked happy banging her spoon lightly against her bowl.
“Well. We have spent most of our life on a boat. That could have something to do with it. Also, not that I think about it, WHY have we spent most of our life on a boat?” Jay interjects.
Aragorn takes a large spoonful of soup, seemingly mulling over his next words. Arianna looks like she regrets saying anything about his siblings, but doesn’t say anything, allowing him to formulate an excuse.
“Jay is correct. We have spent most of our life sailing. Not to mention, my..siblings were very busy people last I checked, and I’m not so sure they’d want us dropping by at random.” Their father says slowly.
“That still doesn’t answer my question though—” Jay began, but his mother interrupted him quickly.
“Enough. Let’s not talk about this over done. Ya’ll need to understand that there are certain things that you’ll learn when you get old enough.”
Emma sighed inwardly. Her parents were doing it again. What they always did. Take their secrets and put them under lock and key, way down deep underground. Their cryptic answers might satisfy her siblings, but not her. She didn’t understand why their parents wanted their children to trust them, whenever they didn’t even trust their children. Eventually that simple fact would come back to bite them. Much as she loved and admired her parents, she couldn’t fully give her trust blindly. Trust had to be earned. And they’d done nothing to earn hers. If anything, the path they’d wove had broken it.
~
Emma wasn’t usually the type to get scared by dreams. They’d never seemed real enough to do so, even when she was a child. Everything was always too vivid, too overwhelming. Full of vibrant colors or intense emotions. And so on. The point is, there were several factors that usually always are there to let Emma know that a dream was in fact just a dream. Or if a nightmare was just a nightmare.
Like right now.
She didn’t know where she was. It was a dark place, night presumably. The moon was breaking through the heavy clouds, its silver rays reflecting on the gloomy faces around her. Ah there was people, wasn’t there? Lots of them. She couldn’t quite make them out but she could certainly hear them distantly, all around her, voices raising together as if in song. Voices yelling and screaming. She should be concerned, or worried. Or something. But..she wasn’t. Not at all. She felt nothing. Just a distant disassociation from all the people in this dream of hers. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Just a dream. Her subconscious making entertainment for her to enjoy.
The air whipped about her, slapping her coldly across the face. Frigid rain dribbled down slowly from the sky, drop by drop, sprinkling onto her hair, slowly soaking it. She was barefoot and only wearing her pajamas, which was a sign in of itself that it was a dream. As she stepped forward, the sharp wet grass cut at her toes. She still had no idea where she was, but she could swear she’d been there before. Sometime. A strange type of deja vu
So she continued plodding on through the damp grass, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on forever pushing her forward. A feeling that she was searching for something, or someone. She needed to tell them something. Yes, that’s exactly what it was, right? She had to deliver a message. What was the message though? The words were on the tip of her tongue but when she tried to form them, nothing sensical came of it. That was normal though, wasn’t it. She’d tried many times to tell her people..whoever they were, the same thing but she was never able to make it past their deafened ears.
Suddenly she saw it. It was staring at her, head tilted. A rabbit. It was a silverish creature, with two large intelligent looking dark colored eyes. A normal rabbit. Or so it looked at first glance. Until she saw the most striking feature. The crimson colored liquid, staining the fur around it’s jaw and down its throat, dripping slolwy into the grass.
Despite the shiver of fear that ran down her spine, Emma kneels down warily, reaching one hand, palm out, towards the beast.
“Hey, buddy…come here..come on little guy..its okay. I won’t hurt you.”
It was just a dream, right? Might as well have some fun in her subconscious.
The rabbit doesn’t move, even as Emma comes even closer. Her hand brushes across its soft fur, and another shiver runs down her spine. The rabbit finally moves, blinking, head tilting to the opposite side.
“Yeah that’s it. You’re okay. I won’t hurt you.” Emma coos, still petting it. It’s fur feels cold to the touch, almost lifeless.
And then just as she begins relaxing, suddenly it lunges, its canines digging into Emma’s outstretched palm. Emma cries out in pain, yanking away her hand. The rabbit darts away. Emma scrambles to her feet after it.
“Hey, wait!” She calls, scrambling after it, her bare heels scraping along the suddenly rocky ground. She raced after the rabbit, and came around a corner. It was gone. In its place stood a black figure.
WATCH OUT, EMMA.
And then suddenly she was on her back, a hand gripping her neck, crushing her windpipe. Black obsidian eyes bored into hers, goo practically oozing from the rage-contorted face snarling at her. Once again she was struck with the feeling that she knew this man, or creature. A strange feeling of Déjà vu.
“You know what I want. Give me what I want and it’ll all be over.” The thing snarled, blood dripping from elongated canines. “Just give me what I want. You have it. They told me you have it. Don’t. Lie. To. Me.”
Emma gasps, struggling and kicking against them but to no avail. Her wind pipe is being crushed and she can’t do anything about it.
And then the person’s blackened hands find her medallion and everything comes to a halt. Blank white from elsewhere stare into her own as a cold feeling creeps across her neck.
“Nuh uh, we aren’t supposed to steal things, are we?”
A flash. It was the place again. She was lying in the golden fields, eyes facing the colorful sky. A woman’s voice filled her ears once more
“Emma.”
“Why won’t come and stay?”
“Emma?”
“Why won’t you come and play?”
“You are missed, Emma.”
“Please come and stay.”
“Emma?”
The aforementioned can only lay there, unmoving. A heavy weight keeping her bones pinned to the ground. A purple butterfly lands on the tip of her nose. And then another lands on her neck, and then another atop her forehead. And so on and on until Emma is floating away, suffocating from the sheer grip of the sickness creeping up from around her neck and down her throat.
“Emma?”
~
Emma bolts upright in a cold sweat, sheets pooling down to her feet, as she scrambled out of bed. The scream from her nightmare, finally escapes unbidden from her lips, and she can’t stop it. It gets louder and louder, echoing through the house for a prolonged moment, before she finally chokes it down. Tears track involuntarily down her cheeks, her whole body shaking in silent sobs. She reaches out and grasps the mattress of her bed, lowering herself back onto it.
The door suddenly pushes open and her father’s shadowed figure appearances in the doorway, looking wide awake. She feels a shoot of regret, fearing she’d woken him up. Aragorn quickly scans the room, before his shoulders relax and he turns back to her, finally speaking softly.
“Is everything okay?”
Emma wanted to respond. She really did. But no words could come out of her lips that wouldn’t end with sobbing or screaming. So she only grips the sheets harder, nodding slowly, and trying to cease her panicked breathing.
Somehow he seems to sense her lie, his expression softening into a familiar blend of sadness and worry. He crossed the room quickly, arms wrapping around his eldest daughter. Instinctively Emma melts into his arms, burying her face into his shoulder, breaths coming in quick huffs. His worn hands comb through her hair, while wiping any tears tracking down her cheeks with his thumbs.
“It’s alright, you’re okay, Beans. You’re okay. It’s okay. No one can hurt you. I’ve got you.” He whispers, the unfamiliar nickname slipping out but she didn’t really care at the moment
And that’s all it take for the floodgates to completely release, tears pouring down her cheeks and onto his shirt. But he doesn’t mind, and for this one moment in time, Emma allows her father to comfort her. To feel safe in his arms once more. To feel like a child safe in their parent’s arms after a nightmare. She may not trust her parents blindly but at least she knew she’d be safe with them. Because no matter what happened, they would always be there, right?
Author’s note:
I do apologize that it took so long for this, and the next chapter to release! And also how short they are. Originally they were going to be a lot longer, but I had to edit out several portions, so that nothing would be accidentally spoiled if I happened to miswrite anything 😔