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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Horror/Scary · #1758164
The castaways explore the island, and discover they are not alone...
Hell’s Garden
Chapter 2
         Marcel grunted as he dropped yet another pile of wood on the sand, and then rose to dust off his hands. They had a good fire going, with lots of smoke and plenty of wood. Standard operating procedure dictated a fire giving off a plume of smoke was best if you were shipwrecked. However, it would be a long time before their ship was declared missing, and even longer for any searchers to find a location nearby.
         Still, Marcel reflected, it was better than sitting on the shore all day. The group of survivors had finally managed to muster the courage necessary to venture in to the forested parts of the island. Sticking to the edges of the trees, the group had found a good supply of firewood, and Ambrose had found roots and fruits he surmised were edible.
The castaways had not seen much of the island’s fauna as of yet. A few odd looking birds and strange lizards or crabs had been spotted, but nothing large. Ceren walked up beside Marcel, dropping her own pile of wood. She sighed, then turned and observed the island. “Do you think it’s inhabited?” she asked, gazing out over the greenery.
         Marcel turned as well. “I think there are certainly some larger animals here… but I doubt there’s any intelligent life.” The island was mostly covered by the thick jungle, the only visible exception being a jagged peak poking out of the center. It wasn’t extremely high, but it was undoubtedly the tallest point on the island. The peak itself was irregular, and looked somewhat like an empty bowl. Marcel, easily the most learned person of the group, assumed it was some type of volcano.
         No one had spoken of the strange howl the group had heard two days ago.  It was too disturbing, and everyone was willing to forget the experience. The group had enough to worry about without the fear of some animal.
         The other survivors filed in, each dropping a load of wood on the pile. Ambrose immediately set about lighting a second fire, using the flint and steel he always liked to keep on him. A rock with a small depression served as his “pot”, such as it was. Marcel called the group together, his intent to make an announcement quite clear. “Once we have food in our bellies, I think the best thing to do would be to explore the island a bit more. We need to get the general layout, and even more important, we need to see if there is anyone or anything that can help us out of this predicament. Take all of our supplies with us, there’s no guarantee we’ll come back for them.” The group nodded, packing up all the items. There were two muskets, each thoroughly dried and with enough dry powder and bullets for about eight shots, distributed to Ceren and Yorun. Ambrose had procured a machete; Gabriel held a long knife (probably a scaling knife) and Sallen was armed with a simple hatchet. A few lengths of sturdy rope finished out what the group carried.
         The group set off, cautiously venturing into the forest. It seemed like something dangerous lurked behind every tree, a dangerous creature hiding just out of sight or some kind of invisible sinkhole. The group had been trekking for well over an hour when they finally stopped jumping at every shadow and relaxed a bit. Over the noises of animals (most of which had so far eluded the group’s notice) was the unmistakable sound of running water. The survivors dashed eagerly over to the source of the sound.
         It was a good sized stream, perhaps five feet across and at least as many deep. Here, it rushed over a miniature rock waterfall. The survivors tested the water, determining that it was fresh. They drank eagerly, it being the first non-boiled water they had had for the past two days. The group unanimously decided to stay near the stream for the night, as it was a good source of water and nearby were multiple bushes of edible berries.
         As everyone else settled in, Yorun decided to make a perimeter sweep of the area. He had been a hunter before trying his hand at sailing, and surmised that this was probably a popular watering hole for the jungle’s denizens. He searched for tracks, and sure enough, found a myriad of prints throughout the clearing. “We might want to be careful, friends. This seems to be a fairly popular area, and I don’t want to attract the attention of anything dangerous.”
         Marcel shrugged. “I think we’re more than a match for any animal on the island, and any intelligent beings will surely try to negotiate before they start attacking. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be safe for the night.” He said. Yorun reluctantly nodded, obviously a little less than optimistic. Marcel brushed it off as jittery nerves, gods knew they all had them. “All right people, let’s get some shelter eh? We should be able to string together some leaves, or something like that.” The group went at the task with a will, obviously excited to have found a safe spot. They had a shelter up and a good fire going by nightfall. Marcel addressed the group once again, saying, “We need to be sure we have a visible signal. So, I think we should try to make it to that mountain. Ships will be able to spot the smoke for miles.” The group unanimously agreed, and Yorun was posted on first watch as they decided to turn in.
         Yorun stared out into the darkness, his eyes attempting to pierce the thick darkness that pervaded the jungle. There were dozens of sudden noises, each one making Yorun jump and aim his musket, only to have it be some kind of unseen animal. He berated himself for being so jumpy, and managed to calm down after the first hour or so.
         He tried to find a sense of serenity in his surroundings, but all he felt from the jungle was a dark sense of menace and foreboding, like it was some dark, hungry beast just waiting for its chance to strike. Yorun felt an involuntary shudder course through his body as he gazed into the yawning darkness. He had been in dark, untamed environments before, but this just felt… wrong, somehow. He clutched the rifle tighter, glad his shift was half over and very eager to get what sleep he could.
         A creaking noise sounded above the sentry, causing his glance, and rifle, to point upward. A small animal sat on the branch above him, just in range of the firelight. At first, it looked like some sort of monkey. But it clearly was not. The thing sitting on the branches had tufts of fur, and scales. Tiny horns sprouted out of the things head, and glowing red eyes stood out in the darkness.  A long, thin tail swished behind it, a spear-like barb just visible on the end. The thing opened its mouth, and vocalized something like a cross between a hiss and a growl, and forked tongue flicked past its teeth. Without warning, the thing dropped to the ground and grabbed the flint, carelessly left by the fire.
         With a surprised yell, Yorun followed the thing as it ran. He chased it for about a hundred yards, stopping in a clearing as he lost track of it. With a start, the man realized he was lost. Even more threatening, however, was the crack of a branch off to his left. He whirled, raising the musket as he did so.
         A shadowy figure lurked at the edge of the clearing, and it was moving closer. Then, something that looked humanoid came into view. Yorun lowered his musket, surprised. “Who goes there?” he said, examining the figure. It was tall and thin, its skin so pale he could make out its whiteness even in the dark. There was no hair, and the creature was completely naked. It possessed long arms and legs, with long nails on each. Red eyes glared at Yorun, and an unearthly growl escaped the thing’s fang-filled mouth.
         Without warning, the thing leaped. Startled and unprepared, Yorun clumsily brought his musket up to fire. He was certain he hit the thing, but it neither vocalized its pain nor slowed. It slammed him down on his back, sending his musket skittering. “Get off me! Get off me!” the frightened man yelled. The creature sank its fangs into his neck and pulled, tearing out the man’s throat in a bloody mess. He gurgled in his death throes, thankfully bleeding out before the thing began to feed, Yorun’s eyes rolled back in death.
         Marcel led the group as they charged into the clearing. The group had been awakened by a gunshot nearby, and was at first confused at was happening. There was yelling coming from nearby, and it was suddenly cut off.
         The quickly came upon the clearing, and were witness to a gruesome sight. Some strange thing was bending over what looked like Yorun, and sounds of tearing flesh could be heard. Marcel yelled, “Get that thing off him!” Ceren obliged, pointing her gun at the creature as it turned to face the group. She fired, hitting the thing full in the chest. It toppled over backwards, then got back up and rushed back into the trees.
         Ceren ran to the edge of the foliage, trying to catch a glimpse of the thing. Marcel ran over to Yorun’s prone form, intending to take his pulse. He then saw that all that remained of the throat was a bloody hole, then sighed and passed his hand over the dead man’s face, closing his eyes. “What in the blazes was that damn thing?!” yelled Sallen.
         “It looked like… like some kind of person!” sobbed Gabriel.
         Marcel just stared at the foliage. He had never seen anything like that in his entire sailing career. He didn’t even think he had a name for it. This island obviously had secrets… some of them deadly.
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