Author note: While this is based on cannon material I have taken creative liberties here and there. This does not reflect Klei's wish for the lore.

Thanks to the ex-buddy who helped me brainstorm the early ideas for the fic.

Please keep in mind this is better formatted on AO3, I would rather you go over there to check it out if you can.


Spiders were the absolute worst, a monstrosity of nature; too many eyes, too many legs and they could bite with horrifically long and unsightly fangs. They were bad enough at home but this, this was just disgustingly unfair. These spiders were the size of dogs, with a jaw filled to the brim with sharp teeth. Wilson hated having to collect resources from their nests but he took pleasure in their deaths. However this particular trip presented a human skull upon extermination of the nest. At first Wilson panicked and thought someone from back at camp had found themselves in the belly of this beasts but he had seen everyone just this morning so it couldn't have been one of them, right? The scientist picked up the skull and grimaced. "Ew, there's still spidery bits on it." Upon closer inspection the skull's size and development suggested it was from a child, the only child he knew of was Wendy. There were issues with that however. Number one Wendy went in the opposite direction with Wickerbottom only a day before, two, the stage of decomposition would not line up if Wendy had died and three, the skull showed featured that aligned with a male skull rather than a female's. Had there been a child that came through the Florid Postern while they were distracted with other matters and been killed without anyone's knowledge? A sinking feeling ate away at Wilson's stomach. How lost and scared must have they been only to be torn to shreds by these vile creatures? The sinking feeling was replaced by one that boiled his insides. He would not allow these monsters to take any more unknowing lives. Taking his spear Wilson destroyed what was left of the spider nest, leaving no trace of what was once there. They needed the nest to farm silk and glands but Wilson refused to even consider leaving the nest for taking a lone, young child's life.

They wouldn't have even known there were other people here to help…

Wilson felt moisture on his cheek. Bringing a hand up to his face he discovered he was actually crying. With a sigh he wiped his face. Being with other people really had made him more attached to them. He used to live in solitude, away from the drama of social life he hated so much. Then he was forced into this survival situation and was even thankful for when he ran into Maxwell, the man who had brought him here in the damn first place. Then they tried to build a portal, just like before the Constant. Now they were a group of almost a dozen strong, with all manner of expertise. A group where they took care of each other and as much as he hated to admit he was attached to all of them, some more than others, but he didn't wish to see anyone deceased for good.

A tap on the shoulder brought Wilson out of his musings with a startled shout, the man turned on his heels and clutched the weapon in his hand tightly. Standing behind him was a taller man with a pale face and red cheeks, a warm smile on his face. "Wes! You can't sneak up on me like that!" Wes's smile turned from a friendly one to an apologetic one but it soon turned to a frown as the other man extended a hand out to touch Wilson's face. Recoiling from the touch Wilson wiped away the stray tears on his cheeks. "I'm fine. I just got lost in thought. I found something that… concerned me…" Wes moved his hands in a fashion that translated to language. Wes was a mute, he couldn't even scream when hurt. Ms. Wickerbottom knew sign language and Wilson did once but forgot it after not using it for many years so he was rusty when they first attempted communication. But together they taught the whole camp how to communicate with the mime; all but Maxwell, but that was a separate issue all together.

'What did you find?'

"I think it belongs to a little boy…" Wilson held the skull out to the Frenchman, the gross spider appendages still seemingly fused to the skull. Wilson felt tugging in his chest as the other man's face became solemn while examining the object.

'Wendy?'

"Oh no I saw Wendy going south yesterday, there's no reason-" Wes held a hand out to silence him and shook his head.

'Ghost.' How he hated that word. Every death came what most survivors called a ghost, some sort of residual life-force that could be ripped from the human body and harnessed to bring said person back to life. Ghosts were nonsense, insulting to Wilson's very nature as a scientist, there was obviously a better explanation for what they were, he just… had to find out what that explanation was.

xX~~~Xx

A man called Wolfgang was the first to die, surprising as he was their strongest member, not so surprising when you considered the fact he needed large amounts of food to maintain said strength. Wes and Wolfgang were the two who consumed the most, any survivor dreaded when the pair came to their camp after an expedition as there was likely to be no food left when they had their fill.

Everyone was distraught, Wilson didn't have the means to revive him. No meat, no hair, no Prestihatitator. It seemed that, that was it for Wolfgang. Wendy, a young girl, didn't seem fazed by the death. Wilson assumed it was because she was desensitised to death, her own twin sister was dead after all. Wendy's sister Abigail was one of these so-called ghosts, only Wendy could understand the words she spoke and was also the only one Abigail followed. However, Wendy commented she didn't understand why everyone was so upset, that Wolfgang was still here and that he said he "was scared of being floaty". There was a moment of silence before she rolled her eyes and took something out of her pocket, a writhing mass of flesh and rope. She said it hadn't worked for Abigail but maybe it would for Wolfgang, she urged for an empty space to take it before lights blinded them and the strongman was standing before them again. It was a miracle, a miracle of science. It seemed Wendy could see the life-forces of the fallen, whereas the others could not. Perhaps this young boy was wandering as a lost spirit, spirit being said as it sounded a little more professional than ghost.