Be a Supporter!

Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries

  • 92 Replies
New Topic
  • Member since: Mar. 27, 2000
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 34


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Welcome June, 2009's Monthly Writing Contest: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - MWC9 - JUNE - An Island Escape - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Last month's contest was meant to strain and challenge you. This month I figured that with the ending of a school season and the beginning of summer, I'd move to the other end of the spectrum and remove lots of restraints.

You have 4 weeks starting today to finish a story. It can be about anything, anyone, and contain as many or as few fantastical elements you like. There are two major stipulations though, to keep this from being a free for all. First: Your story's setting must take place on a relatively small island. I don't know why, but small islands have always seemed like mystical places to me. They're fascinating, from the ways the form to the cultural and ecological microsystems that they can create and maintain. Second: Your story's plot must somehow include the fact that there is an island involved. The following paragraph explores these two stipulations in greater detail.

1) Pretty straightforward, though there are questions you might raise. Like: "How big is 'relatively small'"? Cuba is too big. Honolulu is on the large side but acceptable. A tiny speckle like the Pitcairn Islands? Absolutely.

Does my island have to be "real" (i.e. a known island on Earth)? Hell no.

Can I use more than one island? Sure, as long as your islands follow all other requirements.

2) This may be a little more ambiguous. Your plot must involve the island simply because it defeats the purpose if your island story takes places entirely on a baseball field that just so happens to be on an island. I'm not saying the island has to be the absolute focus of the plot, but rather incorporate it such that the story could not run as it does if the setting were changed to the mainland or elsewhere. You may be as subtle or as blatant with this as you like.

If you have further concerns, ask me in the discussion thread.

I've increased the minimum word limit this time around. Though good stories CAN be written in ~500 words or less, I find that that's more of a challenge than anything else. Hence, I'm forcing you to put more into your stories to a) hopefully enhance the quality and b) pre-filter out all those who are intimidated by quadruple digit word counts.

Stories that win should not have any apparent defects in the fields of grammar or spelling (neglecting colloquial dialogue, which I discourage unless you are very good at it).

So what will you guys do? Attempt a cliché scenario and blow us away with some interesting characters? Or stretch the limits of the restrictions and bring us to an island no one has ever even thought of before? It's in your hands NG. =D


1) Word Count Minimum: 1000 words
2) Word Count Maximum: 4500 words
3) The setting of the story must exclusively occur on a small island
4) The plot of the story must somehow incorporate the fact that the setting is on an island.

DEADLINE: July 1ST, 2009; MIDNIGHT STD, EST (ie midnight between July 1st and July 2nd)


1st) $30 Newgrounds store credit and first choice among a pool of volunteer voice actors to narrate your story.

2nd) $30 Newgrounds store credit and second choice among a pool of volunteer voice actors to narrate your story.

3rd) $30 Newgrounds store credit and third choice among a pool of volunteer voice actors to narrate your story, number of volunteers permitting.

4th & 5th place receive honorable mentions in the winners thread (and possible VA narration!).


* Note on the slightly different VA prize thing. We all know Fyndir is awesome and I'm sure he wants you to know too, but I think a having a choice is a good idea, especially if winners want to defer, AND now that you can sample our usual volunteers' work on previous stories. Also, there are some REALLY GOOD voice actors kicking around that mightn't know about this that I'll try and get in contact with... I'm sure some will be willing to take a shot at it.


1) Post your stories in this thread.
2) Do not post revisions in this thread. They will be deleted.
3) You may submit one story only, one time. Posts will not be deleted at your demand so make sure your work is perfect before posting here.

Self-published fiction: Mostly Lies

  • Member since: Mar. 27, 2000
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 34
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-02 05:06:49


1) Contestants may submit exactly one entry. No more. Users found trying to smart ass their way around this rule will be disqualified from this and an arbitrary number of future competitions to be agreed on by the judges. (You are your alt and vice versa)

2) Users caught posting writings which they do not own will face imediate disqualification from this and any future contests. That means don't try to pass other's work off as your own, you will fail and we'll all hate you!

3) Users must submit on or before the given date. In the past allowances have been made. That won't happen this time, your entry must be in on the given date.

4) You must follow the rules of this BBS. If you have a question about whether you will be breaking them, contact a moderator.



The judges do not HAVE to review your work and give you a detailed critique, there are too many entries in most contests for that to be a plausible option.

You have the following options none the less:

1) I highly recommend that you review someone else's work, in that way, they may return the favor. ;)

2) There is both a writing club & and writing guild in the Clubs & Crews section which is there as an open forum for writers to post their work.

3) PM the specific person you would like to review your work and hope they will.

4) Post a link to a newspost on your user page which contains your story again, in either the discussion thread or at the end of your official submission in this thread.


If you'd like to judge, feel free to volunteer by PMing Zerok. You must of course be well versed in writing and reading and judging fictional works. If you are still in your early years of high school, its probably better to wait a while and get your writing up to snuff. Judges can't be in it for the prizes, so don't get down if you aren't selected to judge.

If you really want to be a judge and haven't been accepted yet, the best way to be noticed as a good candidate is to review your fellow writers' works for them. Let them know how they can improve, what their weaknesses are, and what you enjoyed in a respectful well put way and you'll be one step closer to judging in the future.

Judges for this completion are:

[Mystery Judge] - (slot still open as of June 2)

Users have requested in the past know exactly how contests will be judged. This is our attempt at being open with our process. If you have specific issues with the way we judge entries, you are encouraged to pm a judge. Posting in threads about the system used to judge pieces is off topic, so please don't do it.

Judges rank users on a 10 point scale. And then submit their results to the contest organizer, that's me. I then take the top five scoring submissions from each judge and give them a set number of points to eliminate any bias present from the 10 point scale. A judge who gives a piece his highest rating, gives that piece five points. The second highest piece gets four points and so on. Points awarded from judges are totaled and the user who has scored the most points is considered the winner. In the event of a tie, the averages of the 10 point scale results are used to break.

As a board of judges we attempt to read all submissions posted to the contest. In the event that there is unexpected turn out, we may move to a two phase system. The first phase is an elimination phase where stories are split up between judges, with overlap. Top scoring submissions from each judge make it into the final round of judging and we revert back to the system described in the previous paragraph for the final set of stories.

By submitting a story, you not only agree to abide by the rules and regulations of this competition, but you also agree to accept the terms by which we judge your piece. If you cannot do that or feel there need to be changes, you may PM Zerok.

Please note, judging takes roughly 2-3 weeks. Please be patient.


Protip: If you want to win, double return between paragraphs!

Self-published fiction: Mostly Lies

  • Member since: Sep. 8, 2008
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 15
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-02 18:46:12

"Abandoned blood".
Word count: 1325 words

He woke up with an aching pain in his feet. It seemed as if daggers pierced the soles of his feet. He had recalled the memories of before quickly. As if magic, his tense muscles relaxed a bit. He remembered everything, at least. He knew why he was here. With aches and pains, he managed to stand. His feet were hot and sticky with blood, and to make things worse, he was on sand. Sand. So much sand stood before him. Yet he couldn't help but drown in his own memories...
He stood before his parents. His dad was smoking a cigar. His mom holding him.
"Mom, I'm old enough to protect myself from that fat lump of crap." He was fourteen, and his infuriated drunken father took a heavy swing at his jaw. Pain engulfed his lower jaw as he fell to the ground. He heard faint echoes of voices, voices that had not been familiar to him then, as a tunnel suddenly closed, blocking his vision.
He then awoke with a sudden squirm as he glanced at the floor. But the floor wasn't the floor in his fathers enormous study. It was hard, damp, and cold. There was no sleek, red velvet carpet that massaged your toes with every step. Instead it was hard wood.
He sat up. Everything was fuzzy, but he realized he was in a kaiak. He glanced to the side and found his mother paddling with an uneasy look on her face. "Mom?" His voice was not his own. Instead it was replaced by a croaking, high pitched, pathetic sounding noise.
"Honey, your awake!" She replied brightly, lighting up with happiness. "Would you please use the other paddle? This is hard to do if there's only one person paddling!"
So, they paddled. She explained that she ran off with me, away from my abusive drunkard father.
I tried not to look devastated. I asked where we would go, and she told me to go to sleep. I obeyed.

"Mom?" I yelled, my voice sounding a bit more normal. We appeared to be on a stranded island. Like in those silly stories people would tell. Except this was real. And this was scary.
I went around the island, looking for my mother. The pain in my foot was insignificant now, like a gnat that won't leave you alone. Just an annoyance. Now I was much more interested in finding my mom. Unfortunately, the island was covered in trees. many of them. But the island was very small, because in the next 40 minutes I was on the other side. "It's a small world," I mumbled under my breath, A saying my mom used many times when I was little.
My eyes widened. I glanced over my shoulder to where the voice came from. It wasn't my moms. At least I didn't think so.
There appeared to be a body tied around a rather thick tree. I squinted. The realization hit me quickly; That was my mom, and she had been beaten. By somebody on this island.
I sprinted towards the food deprived body of my mother. My father never gave her his food, me and my mother were basically hobos. She was breathing heavily.
"Danny..." She said in that odd, wet, raspy voice. "Get out... n-now. I... lo... love..."
Danny waited, and her head fell off to the side. Her sentence was never finished. And it never will be. But Danny knew that he had to leave. Now.
But suddenly, he felt a sharp pain pierce through his intestines. He looked down and saw a sharp, pointed tip. It was stained with old blood. His mom's, Danny decided. She had multiple stab wounds in her curved body. Danny looked behind him. He saw the other end of the spear held in the intimidating, frightening stare of a young man.
"Get off of my island."
Danny barely felt the pain. In fact, he didn't feel it at all. His feet felt normal. He was in shock. He couldn't feel his limbs anymore.
"Well," he said, trying to sound calm, "If you stab me, I can't get off this island myself, see? and you'll either have to clean up the corpses yourself or have them stink up your pathetic excuse for an 'island.'"
The man forced the spear out of Danny. It sounded excruciating. But somehow, it wasn't. Shock was on his side. For now.
Danny turned, but with difficulty. "Look, your obviously not hurting me," he said, feeling braver.
The man stabbed him again. "Wow, your persistent, aren't ya?" Danny mocked, a grin on his face. The man was grinning now. In fact, he was laughing. It creeped Danny out for a moment. How can this guy laugh hysterically when the wounds seemed to do nothing to him?
But then he saw it. His skin was paler than the puffy, fat clouds. At first he thought it was because of shock. Which would ultimately be very bad. But he found out it was something else. And his demise would be sooner.
He was running out of blood rapidly. He saw that he was shaking. His legs couldn't support him anymore, and he collapsed onto the ground.

He awoke, tied to a tree. The young man was sharpening his spear with a black, hard stone. Apparently he thought it would hurt Danny if it was sharper. Danny coughed, and the man heard. He looked up and grinned.
"Your death will be slow and painful," He said. "Don't die on me when I'm having my fun."
"What a happy thought, scumbag."
The mans happy yet evil face fell into an intimidating frown. "I expect that you love your mother."
"As most normal children do," Danny said jokingly, though this was not a time for jokes.
"Well," the man said, his grin returning. "Let me go fetch her for you."
He left. After about ten minutes of trying to break free of the strong rope, Danny saw the man return with a mutilated corpse in his dusty hands.
"Oh, you fu-" Suddenly he vomited all over the sand, washing away some blood. As the man drew nearer, he said, "Don't spew sick all over me, or your death will be slower."
Danny kicked the moist blood and sick soaked sand into the mans eyes. The man yelled, and fell to the ground, trying to rub it out of his eyes. He made it worse. He ran towards water.
After 20 minutes he ran back, water running down his cheeks. He picked up his spear and chucked it in Danny's general direction. It skimmed his side and a few drops of blood trickled out. Amazingly, it cut into the rope tying him to the tree. But unfortunately, it didn't completely rip it.
The man swore loudly as he made his way to Danny. Kicking the mothers carcass out of the way. The man didn't stop walking until his nose was almost touching Danny's. "You'll die tied to that poor excuse for a tree," he said, indicating the malnourished tree behind Danny. He punched danny hard in the ribs.
The man then said his final words; "By the way, my name is Charlie. Pass it around hell when ya get there. Say, 'Charlie killed ya.'" He tugged on the spear and it came out of the tree bark. It also ripped the rope.
Without thinking, Danny got a chokehold on him. He dropped his spear and Danny picked it up. He struck Charlie, and Charlie was still.
Danny got up and tried walking. He immediately fell to the ground. He saw a light. it was a long tunnel, filled with an amazing, glowing color he had not ever seen before. His mom walked over to him from the tunnel. She smiled and held out her hand.
"Mom..." Danny said, and he ceased breathing as soon as he grabbed her hand with delight.

The Problems of the Future, by Everyone!

  • Member since: Jan. 10, 2006
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 27
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-03 20:22:31

* BEFORE I START: I am basing alot of this entry on a few chapter of a book I read a few months ago. It will not be a direct copy though.*

On the island. Right here, just getting ready to run again. I woke up this morning. Sat in the boat for a while. I am about to enter the island. I have no clue how big it is. But Rakiegnia is already out there. Let's do it. And so I left the boat. And so I went over the first hill. And so I went through the nests. And here I am. In the flats. Let me explain. The flats, as I've decided to name this desolate area, is a low flat land, about a mile wide in a circle. It is surrounded on all sides by a large hills. After a two-hundred foot steep drop, there is the flats. The flats are made up of a large swamp covered in thick algae, thick enough to walk on. Thick enough for Rakiegnia to walk on, for the tiger to eat those little buggers. And who are those little buggers? Those little fucking annoyances are still an unknown species to me. But as close as I can tell they were something like koala bears. How koala bears got onto that little island is still unknown to me. But there they were. And they were eating algae. All day long, every day, they were eating the algae. They also were swimming in the pools. How those pools did their thing I will never know. See, small pools popped up every morning filled with a strange water. It was more than fresh water. It was the most amazing water in the world. It was beautiful. It's effects brought me back to life, cured my starvation and healed my mind. It was more amazing than love, It was more beautiful than the best acid trip ever. It was the closest thing to heaven that exists. And so it was water. And so the swam in it. They swam in the most amazing water in the world, high as God Almighty on that water, and so they drank the water and swam in their thick furs in the pools. And so I walked among them. They took up all of the space on the island. It was completely gray as far as there was land. As I walked they moved around my feet like water. And so they were water. So I decided to see what was on the other side. It was exactly like all the sides. There was thick algae concealing crisp dead roots of crisp dead trees. And so there were trees. So I ate algae and swam. And so I stayed till dark. And I decided to rescind to the boat before the tiger. So I strolled back with algae and water. I sat and waited in my corner of the lifeboat. And so I waited in the boat and she hopped in. And so I decided to fall asleep. So I drank water and hallucinated in a corner. And I woke up. And there was no more island. Only a few bits of algae scattered in the water. And so the water was gone, and so I sat in the corner and watched Rakiegnia groom herself. And so I continued on towards nothing.

A vagina is really just a hat for a penis.

BBS Signature
  • Member since: Jan. 10, 2006
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 27
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-03 20:24:22

I'm sorry for not using paragraphs or quotation marks, but I was really focused and needed to get my ideas down really fast.

A vagina is really just a hat for a penis.

BBS Signature
  • Member since: Dec. 23, 2003
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 25
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-03 20:31:08

As a little preamble, I thought I'd explain exactly what a gyre is, and what it represents. W.B. Yeats was a poet that conceptualized a gyre. A gyre is something that physically would have looked like a cyclone. The idea that Yeats had is that these gyres would overlap and create folds in the fabric of time. He believed that history was bound to repeat itself, and when history repeats itself, there is an overlap. I use the word gyre as I would use the words cycle. Anyway, here's my 1127 word entry:

Cycles and Fences

So here I am in the gyre of things; I wound up exactly where I started. Look at me now! I'm sitting on the fence that keeps animals off the train tracks. God only knows why they put a passenger train on an island this small. Tourism I suppose.

The train moves too fast. You can hardly see the landscape once it gets going. Here it comes now, clocked in at seventy-five miles per hour.

It was only two weeks ago that I was last here; only two weeks ago I sat on this very fence. A friend of mine - Travis - sat with me. Him and I are best friends. This is where we come to talk. This is where we enjoy the hot afternoons. This is where our worries fade away.

I'm now by myself, waiting on his arrival.

"Worries?" you ask. Yes, a small warm island in the Pacific seems like a place to enjoy a worry-free life. Never the case. Lately it seems that tourism is on the decline. We hear of disease and recession. We hear of the economy. There are no more tourists in miniskirts, waving at us as they stroll by.

Ask most anyone and they'll tell you I'm an introvert, a troublemaker, and a character destined to go nowhere. Ask Travis and he'll tell you I know too much for my own good, and that I need to apply myself. Ask any of the tourists I've slept with in the past two years and they'll tell you a story of a poet, a drug addict, and a psychopath on the brink of self-destruction.

There's an interesting story to go along with the girls I've met over the past two years. Tourists: pretty and young and full of life. A perfect muse. As a writer I look for outlets of creativity. I have a notebook filled with conceptual imagery, poetic data, and symbolic and meaningful text. My text is in no order, but once a month I find myself at the docks, greeting the young tourists as they come to the island. I bring my notebook. The girls are very open to my advances, and after showing them around, I bring them to the hotel bar where we discuss the grandiose design of nature and season. I'm very forward with my intentions, and I tell them I wish to use them as a muse: an outlet for my creativity. A drunk tourist in her miniskirt willingly accepts. I bring her back to her hotel room, and with my pen and notebook in hand, I begin to draw her with words. I speak aloud, but not what I write down. I dictate her poses and her actions and she follows. She sips espresso, and brings me my pipe. Naked as the day she was born, she floats around the room as per my commanding orders. We kiss, she unbuttons my shirt, and still I write. My muse has crafted my poetry, and it is no longer tobacco in my pipe. Opium smoke plumes fill the room as I close my notebook. We make love. I leave her. Naked as the day she was born.

Twenty-four separate tourists. Twenty-four months. Twenty-four encounters with the cute girls in their miniskirts. They never see me again, and they never speak of the night they have. Ask any of the tourists I've slept with in the past two years and they'll deny any memory of the drug addicted psychopathic poetic on the brink of self-destruction. That night never happened as far as anyone else is concerned.

Twenty-four is a number to be proud of. My notebook, now two years in the making, is something to be proud of. Perhaps something to be published. I carry it with me now. I carry it here as I wait, because the writer in me is planning something special.

So here I am in the gyre of things; I wound up exactly where I started. Look at me now! I'm sitting on the fence that keeps animals off the train tracks.

The train moves too fast. You can hardly see the landscape once it gets going. Here it comes now, clocked in at seventy-five miles per hour.

It was only two weeks ago that I was last here; only two weeks ago I sat on this very fence. Here is Travis now, just barely in sight, confused as he looks at me. He can see me sitting on the fence, the train is too close, and approaching much to fast. This is a needle he cannot thread. He won't get to me in time. He stares at me puzzled; he stares at me blankly.

Running and shouting my name, Travis is powerless to stop me now. Instantly he recognizes my notebook, finally full, and finally complete. There are papers coming out from the sides, and it looks old and weathered and yellow: much older than the day I showed him my first poem.

Rue was her name, and the poem was written as a ballad. Rue was particularly appealing to me, as she shared her name with a flower. I entitled my piece "Sorrow and Repentance". It's all I could think to feel after having done what I did. It became an addiction, and the guilt was lifted slightly with each successive piece.

Naked as the day I was born I stand now on the fence. The train is mere moments away and Travis is screaming my name. Everything plays out slowly, and the next few seconds take forever. Notebook in hand, I jump too early. As I fall through the air my heart pounds once... twice... three times. I feel weightless as I land directly in front of the oncoming passenger train. I never intended to hit the ground, and only now can I fully comprehend the nature of what I have done. There's no pain as the train moves through me. A bright flash and nothing is real. The worn notebook erupts into a thousand individual pages.

God only knows why they put a passenger train on an island this small.

Travis sits on the fence. Never again does the train come by.


Please give me some feedback if you took the time to read this. You can tell me what you thought on my Userpage or by sending me a PM. Thanks =)

BBS Signature
  • Member since: May. 6, 2008
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 15
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-03 20:54:20

Title: Classified
Words: 1,098

The crash was brutal. I passed out for several hours. When I woke up, I looked around. Everyone was dead. I was the only one remaining. Fortunately, I knew what I had to do.

I searched the plane wreck for any supplies I could gather. All I could get was plenty of crackers, chips and of course water. I carefully climbed outside of the wreck. It was very dark outside. Miraculously, my watch was still intact, so I checked the time. 11:24 PM. The surroundings seemed too sinister to explore at this time. I crawled back inside the wreck. I ate a couple of crackers and fell asleep on a business-class seat.

On the next day, I woke up at the start of dawn. I decided to investigate the surroundings. Aside from vegetation, the only sentient life I've managed to find was small, harmless birds. Nothing else. I was expecting something more startling, like lions or tigers. After walking alongside the beach for seemingly endless hours, I realized I was marooned on a small island, unable to escape.

I then decided to scout the inner region of the island. My stomach was rumbling. It was noon. I crouched somewhere safe to eat a small amount of chips. After eating my chips, I spent the entire afternoon working my way to the center of the island. When I eventually got there, it was dusk. The environment became sinister again. I was starting to get more anxious by the second.

Just when I was about to get petrified by dread, I found a small wooden shelter. I frantically ran inside. There, I met a stunningly dazzling young female. From her looks, I could guess she was about 20 years of age. I decided to talk to her.

- Hi. Why are you here?
- Long story. I was boarding a plane from Honolulu to Arlington-
- Hey! That's the same plane as me, I interrupted.
- Really? When it crashed, I thought I was the only one alive...
- I was unconscious for a while. Every one else is dead.
- I see. Nice to meet you. My name is Heather.
- I'm Chris.

She agreed to stay with me. As we talked, we both fell asleep.

On the next day, Heather woke me up at 5 AM to hunt a few birds. Our food supplies were running low, after all. She handed me a bow and five arrows. We walked to the beach, where many birds were gathering. I took the first shot. My first arrow hit the bird in the head, making it plunge towards the sand. My next two ones were successful hits, too. The fourth one hit its target in the stomach. The fifth, and most impressive one, struck two birds at once. Heather was speechless. It was then her turn. Out of the eight arrows she shot, only three of them managed to hit the flying animals. We then returned to the shelter to cook a couple of them. We spent the rest of the day talking to each other.

At night, before sleeping, we were determined to start building a boat and go fishing. We were even planning to explore the horizon!

At dawn, we started building the ship. After nine hours of hard work, we were done. We then took makeshift fishing rods with us. We were going to catch fish for lunch. After eating two fish each, we found an outline at the horizon. As we approached it, we realized it was another island!

It took us thirty minutes to reach the land mass. When we stepped out of our boat, we were surprised to find out that it looked very similar to the one we were on. We decided to build another wooden shelter there.

At night, we got ambushed by a dozen black men. They were probably natives, but I wasn't certain. They were armed with blowpipes. We were outnumbered, and Heather thought our tale ended there.

I didn't panic. I calmly grabbed a bamboo stick that just happened to be there, and used it to defend myself. Since I am very well-trained for combat, the group fell in just a few seconds.

Heather was blissful.

- You just saved my life, she said in joy.
- As long as we're together, I will always protect you.

After I said those words, Heather suddenly embraced me. We then shared a long, passionate kiss. She unclipped her bra, revealing her breasts. She started moaning softly as I stroked her nipples. As the moans got louder, I started fingering her. I could feel her panties were already moist. When they got nice and wet enough, Heather took off her panties. I then stuck my hard boner inside her hot cunt. From what I could hear, she was really enjoying it. It was very dark outside, but the moans from her intense pleasure seemed to light the sky up. When I climaxed, I came on her gorgeous naked body.

After this passionate moment, we both stayed on the beach for a while, before going back to our "territory". When we got there, we decided to sleep inside the plane wreck.

I woke up at 1 AM. I was trying to salvage cargo from the wreck. Heather was awakened by the noise I was making, and offered to help me. We found very useful equipment, including my trademark M16A4 I thought I had lost forever. It was, and still is, my most prized possession.

As I held the well-known assault rifle in my hands, I ecstatically went back to the second island. Heather was holding a shotgun. When we touched land, the aborigines instantly set fire to our vessel. We were trapped! Still, we engaged the tribal men. With Heather's courage and my superior fighting abilities, we successfully eradicated the threat. This place was safe now.

We then spent months building a series of bridges connecting both islands, as well as improving our hideouts to turn them into a vast compound. Years later, we have found eighteen additional islands. Coincidentally, they were flawlessly aligned with the other islands.

Nine years after the plane crash, a military rescue helicopter came. The rescue squad, led by Lieutenant Zerok, immediately noticed us. We told him the whole story. He was astonished. We had spent nine years on an unmapped series of islands.

When we returned to America, everyone was proud of me. They've now named this place the Anderson Archipelago, in honor of me. I've also proposed to Heather. Trust me, I am definitely a national hero.

  • Member since: May. 26, 2009
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 02
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-04 17:48:46

Combat Island
Word Count: 1,040
-THERE HERE! Yells a bloody soldier in the distance
I look up to see we are surrounded by German Bomber Planes.
On a little seemingly deserted island you would think no one could find you.
Quick on my feet I know were being attacked.
I my ammunition bag and run to a turret.
Goes another bomb about 12 meters to my left.
I stumble backwards, but I keep running towards the turret.
Soon, another soldier joins me.
The soldier says:
-I'm Nigel. Nice to meet you Captain!
I acknowledge his name with a nod and kept running.
We got to the turrets.
I took the right turret while Nigel takes the left.
We take fire at the planes, but manage to only hit two of them.
I get a call on my two-way radio saying.
The rest of what he said sounded like nonsense.
I told Nigel to keep firing while I head to the East part of the island.
As I'm running down the shoreline I managed to kill 4 German Soldiers with a Semi-Automatic
rifle I was using.
My thumb on my left hand had been shot on the way to the eastern part of the island.
I heard another message on my radio.
Very quietly it said:
There in the trees.
I looked up from my radio to scan the trees. I did not see any Germans in the trees.
A shot had just missed me and hit the sand hard right behind my foot.
I stopped, dropped and rolled.
I took aim and fired vigoursly into the trees.
I hit one of them.
Then I reloaded and took aim again.
After five minutes no more shots were fired so I headed on my way.
I walked sideways down the shoreline my gun pointed at the trees.
Once I was at the right party of the island.
I met up with the other soldiers in the woods.
The soldier that had been talking to me informed me that seven were dead.
I said:
-Split up into groups of three to scan the area for more German soldiers!
They nodded and headed throughout the forest area.
I searched with two men named Archie and Jack.
We saw something moving in the bushes and fired rapidly at it.
It wasn't a German, but a small squirrel.
Giving our selves away we needed to get back to the shoreline.
The bomber planes were back.
Once at the shoreline we could see numerous planes in the sky.
-"10 or 12 of them are up there." Said jack.
Thinking to myself I called for backup.
Within minutes Britain Fighter planes took the sky and returned fire on the Germans.
All we could to help was fire the turrets at them.
It was a long trip back to the Northern end of the island.
-"This war could take a couple more days now." Said Archie.
We took off into a full out sprint to the Northern part of the island.
Once there we took fire on the German planes.
Several German planes were crashing into the Eastern and North West parts of the islands.
Causing lots of damage to the small island we kept fighting.
Jack died after being shot in the chest by a surrounding German plane.
Archie was terribly wounded, but Nigel had stayed strong for about 2 hours now.
I asked for the time from a Nigel.
He yelled over the loud turret shots.
-"1:26 am!"
Then when we didn't expect it we were captured.
Taken hostage we were thrown handcuffed into a German Army Vehicle and taken to a very loud helicopter.
Archie had just patched up his wound, he was not taken for he appeared dead.
We were about to be taken hostage when Nigel fired a pistol at the helicopter pilot.
He killed him!
No one was around to witness the kill besides Nigel and I.
Nigel said in a quiet voice.
-"I'll take this helicopter and fight in the sky."
-"You'll get killed."I said.
-"It doesn't matter." He said
-"I signed up for this to defend Britain and that's what I'm going to do." He said bravely.
-"How will you drive in handcuffs?" I said.
He found a key in the truck the pilot was driving.
It was weird that the German soldiers had just mysteriously left.
He unlocked his handcuffs, then mine.
He saluted me and flew into the sky.
I headed to the Southern end of the island.
I was going to report to all Britain Fighter planes to not shoot the German helicopter.
I finally got to the base where I could report to the planes.
The General made the report.
After a few minutes all pilots reported in and he gave me the O.K to leave base and fight once more.
Another power sprint to the Northern part of the island.
Feeling as if I were about to die, I had made it to the turrets once more.
Barely able to pull the trigger, I fired at German Planes.
Numerous explosions took place in the water and on the edge of the shoreline.
It had seemed that the Germans were taking poor aim because they also were tired.
More and more the planes fell.
Feeling strong I fired even more vigoursly into the sky.
The planes were pulling back to Berlin a couple miles from this small island on the coast of Germany.
We knew this was only the start of WW2.
I saw few Germans in the distance trying to jump into the vast ocean and swim into Berlin.
Two of them started swimming and the other one took aim at me from behind a sand dune.
I fired rapidly at the dune killing the soldier in a matter of seconds.
He managed to shoot me in the shoulder.
All of the British soldiers searched the island for any more Germans.
We took a couple prisoners and that was it.
Now we knew that we had won.
A celebration was held afterward.
I didn't participate much.
I talked with Archie and Nigel a bit then headed off to the Britain's Army Base.
The End.

  • Member since: Apr. 1, 2009
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 14
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-04 19:04:41

story Name : Test strange??

3897 Word

I woke up .. I found myself in the examination of the Committee ..
It is the last exam ..
Will depend upon the future ....
Oh my God .. Future
Began to echo the call of these times and times ..
I looked at the paper and the questions have not been realized since its observer in front of me ..
The questions is very simple .. Tejeltha or so in the first instance
As usual, always started and read the entire paper from beginning to the last field, she noted that the exam-free time!! ..
Fujdtni screaming with Shouters
Where is the observer?? .. Where is the observer??
It is not a mistake, but deliberate ..
There is no time for the exam .. All you need is to respond ..
The observer. What was the shock and harsh .. Future depends on this exam and I do not know a specific time!!!
Found in the guidance: Answer as far as energy ..
Will be held at the time Stqdiha already answered .. Rest assured .. Will not remedy ..
Cooperation with a view of the teaching fellows and
Besides this textbook, as well as all the references and manuals.
Oh God!! As outlined in the facilities ..
Only strict requirement is that you withdraw the paper and the answer in any moment ..
I have no God but God ... you mold the hearts of Thbtni inspiring me ... my rational
Try and reassure myself ..
I try to answer .. And turn around .. I believe that screamed!! There are those who do not give this test fateful lower interest ..
Some Elhoa and play ..
The last paper read the questions and laughing at the irony and say
"What with Seibak are lucky Taatawwad hour?!"
I have seen and enjoyed by some .. Valtvt his part .. It is really fun things and to share that Hmmt Huh ..
However, I realized the voice of great .. It is the voice of a fellow next to me screaming
Did not write anything yet .. Chglni playing with the authors for writing
I did not expect that you are serious about the implementation of the instructions. I beg you prepared to the paper .. Future lost
"What a Hall has withdrawn from the paper and the answer ..
Paid attention to myself .. Did not write anything yet .. I'm trying to focus ..
But the votes of players around me JAM ..
I wished I did not sit in a place infested .. Ojul took my eyes in the room .. I found a group sitting in the quiet and tranquility ...
Answer and the attention of collaborators seriously .. Hesitated to join them to the large number of them and cynics of the seriousness ..
Time is running out ... And may withdraw the paper from me at any moment ..
Resolved and the two standing Hbpt handling papers and Oqlami .. Otqubloni you?
Altveto a screen and all the pleasure .. They
"Hello you in a successful, God willing," ...
And quickly found me a place among them .. And began to assist me .. , I found myself happily flow in the hands of the answers is
Easy ..
Close observer of the colleague who took me and the paper .. Disturbed it ..
And I found it recognizes the card is smiling, and says: "
I have worked in my power, and shorter and I am not assured of justice and mercy to the Editor ... Continued and exercised "
And now .. Waiting for the league. And the voice whispering in the ears
Ovhspettm but rather created you in vain and that you do not you shall be returned to us
Toubeh Basita Oh God in the morning, and his magic
Oh Lord, You are rich ... Otik with a backbone
Maunder My sins are more than a few cataloged
May come from running at large and the Hell Guy
Here I am a poor subject and the two commissioners
Oh God, repentant of Jitk before death and the grave
Disobey and wronged myself and I have an excuse
Oh the sorrow lost in the amusement of my life
Okrmtni well .. I thank Bouklt
Blotine and I am unable to fortitude and patience
Forgive, O Lord, Gfelty you reveal the damage
You are the Knower Btobty and hidden in the chest
O Lord, Vaqublni .... And do not consider Tahramni Delight
Of the light of your face and your holy high degree

  • Member since: Nov. 1, 2006
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 16
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 00:20:21

Title: A Day of Disturbance
Word count: 1146

When I opened my eyes, I was here; I was on The Island. Thinking on it now, I remember being hysterical when I first arrived, trying to take everything in. It was not an island in any way that I could understand. It was not like anything I knew.

The red suns, the red of rust, were unwavering. They cast a disturbing glow, made everything look like perpetual sunset. The air was humid, thick with an overripe stench. I gagged with my first breath, and fell to my knees, disturbing the gritty aubergine sand. Sand so dark, it was almost black. Behind me were rocky outcroppings, glistening like obsidian.

And in front of me...In front of me was ocean, the water so crimson it looked like The Island was bleeding; so infinite in its spread, I could see nothing beyond the horizon. The waters did not move. No wind stirred its surface. It had the uncanny calmness of the eye of a hurricane and I watched it uneasily. I did not dare yet to disturb it. What lurked beneath?

On my knees I stayed, eyes staring unseeingly at this damned place, thinking about how I had arrived here.

I ended up on The Island because I simply had to go to the mall. How ridiculous it seems now. I went to the mall to accomplish one goal: to see people, to ask how the cashiers were doing and smile nicely at children, to be human. I treasured my solitude, my spartan life, in the spare apartment I inhabited. But every once in a while, I needed the interaction.

It happened very simply. I walked out of the home furnishing store (I needed nothing there, though I purchased a small candle to placate the eagle-eyed sales assistant watching me) and saw a shimmer in the air. It looked like how air looks when gas is leaking out - you can see something move. Curious, I looked around to see if anyone else noticed. As far as I could tell, no one had, all in their inane little world, frivolously chatting away, yapping.

Then I saw it happen again, but farther away. I walked towards the... what can I call it? I walked towards the disturbance in the air; casually, as if I had no goal in mind, as if I happened to be heading that way myself. Excitedly, I kept a lookout for anyone who might have seen the same thing. I felt special, to have been the only one so far to have seen it, delighting in everyone else's ignorance. I quickened my pace.

I presently came to a hallway; deserted and chilly. I saw the disturbance again, reached out to touch it, and felt myself disappearing, as if the world was leached of color, then moving far too quickly around me. Fearfully, I closed my eyes tightly. What happened was surprisingly painless. And here I was.

I tried to rally my spirits and not give up hope. Who else might be here? What was on this island? Curiosity stirred in me and I began to explore. First, the rocks. Five tall, monstrously ugly formations which were oddly damp and eerily smooth to the touch, leaving my hand slick with moisture. Besides these, there was nothing else. I picked up the sand, running it through my fingers. It was deposited smoothly over The Island and there were no depressions. No sign of anything or anyone else ever being here.

I slept very badly that night, sprawled on the sand like a savage. I suppose "night" is a poor choice of word. The suns never set, though a green moon rose. I did not remember my dreams and woke, starving and fatigued. Hunger consumed my mind. This is why I dared to step into the blood ocean. I sank down to all fours, crawled in the sand, and cautiously dipped my right pinkie (for I am left-handed) in. I was overwhelmingly relieved when nothing happened and stepped into the ocean, daring only to go up to my waist. Then I swam about, experimentally. When I rose from the blood ocean, I did not feel cleaner, though the sea blood slid off quickly enough. I licked my lips and found them unflavored. The blood ocean tasted of nothing, but a queer thing occurred. My mouth began to itch. Insanely. My cheeks begged to be scratched. And I believe I drew blood attempting to chew my own tongue. I am not certain how much time passed before I recovered, sobbing gratefully.

Later, I realized I could lick the boulders and keep myself hydrated. The moisture in the air supplied new liquids for me. I cannot describe how happy I was to have discovered that. The moon rose four times more before I found food. When I awoke that day, I saw a small creature, much resembling a large, spiny snail, upon the shore. Excitedly, I poked and prodded at it, wondering where it had come from, but it did not respond. Its virulently carmine skin oozed a fluorescent yellow fluid. I promptly smashed the thing against the boulders and broke its shell, devouring it, goo and all, tearing hunks of meat off with abandon. I vomited some of it up, but kept the rest down. Eating the snail was a mistake. It did not quench my hunger - it invigorated it.

I paced restlessly, begging the blood ocean aloud to be merciful, to provide for me. And sometimes it would. Different creatures surfaced, each one stranger than the last. I never saw them arrive; they were always there after I slept. Nothing alive ever came the blood ocean. Sometimes the creatures were edible, and sometimes I would sicken soon after, but the hunger never abated and the food came intermittently; I had no schedule to depend upon, desperately staring at the implacable crimson surface.

To distract myself, I began looking for the disturbances around The Island (and it was not such a very large island; I was able to circle it more than twenty times before the next moon rose). Perhaps the creatures did not come from the blood ocean at all, but from the disturbances, as I had. The hunger and the search for the disturbances battled against each other; they were the only two thoughts I ever had. I no longer dreamed. How many days had passed by? I lost count after fifty moons.

But you see. Everything I have told you changes now. You are here. I have said I used to favor solitude. But now, of course, I am so utterly grateful to see you. To see another human being, to speak with, dine with...

I have always considered myself to be civilized. But this Island, you see, it can change you. The Island changes you. I am very sorry. Very sorry.

But I am so hungry.


  • Member since: Jun. 15, 2007
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 11
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 01:10:13

Basket of Love
(working tittle :P)
Can't find a good name for this story sorry if its a bit chessy :S


"Alex, wake up bro!" a distant voice insisted "Class is over wake the fuck up bro!"

He looked upward and his friend John had woke him up. Alex had been sleeping through class, as usual. He didn't need to study, he believed it was useless, he believed studies were not necesesary for success. Most of the poeple that have been enourmously succesfull have been school drop outs, why should he study? He felt that the less he studied, the more chance of success he would get.

"Argg, class is finally over for today. Thats awesome." Alex told his buddy

"You should really consider paying attention in class, its really important for your future" John told him

Although Alex didn't apreciate the fact that he was being told to study more, he liked that his friend was concerned about him. They had been friends for years now so he guessed it was natural.

He looked around to see who was still in the classroom, and he saw her. He saw Clara, for a slight moment there was a feeling of rapture inside of him, just the sight of her had lighten up his gloomy mood. She had been his crush since the 4th grade, they had been distant friends, but nothing more.

"Dude, get over her, seriously. If your not going to do anything about getting her or somthing, just drop it. I'm hungry lets go eat some churros in the cafeteria" John told him

"Oh yeah I'm up for some churros. I'll race you there, I bet you 50 pesos you can't beat me" Alex challenged while smiling slightly

"Your on baby" John said while he winked at Alex

"God that was gay bro" Alex riddiculed John

"Hey! Screw you bro, your so going down!" John screamed at him

And so the race began, Alex was really fast. He had swift movements and his big body helped him push further on with much force. As excpected Alex won.

" 'Gime my money biatch" Alex told John

"Fine geeze, take it. But dude, something is still don't understand is, if you have such an atletic potential, and you want Clara, why don't you join any sports team? Being in a sports team gets you popularity points, and popularity points will get you close to Clara, and you know it. You could get into the basketball team with me, you even used to play with me when we were younger." John implied

"I don't know man, I haven't played for years." Alex argued

"Like I care, you're going to play ball with me after school, now lets get those churros" John declared

----------After School----------

Alex went out door for a while he wanted to taste the spring breeze. Where he lived, which was Dominican Republic, was a island which was on the Carribean, it is also the only island in the world that is split into two completly different borders. He loved the Dominican Republic since the weather was very nice most of the time. His culture although was pretty crazy, was very cool too, he loved his culture very much.

Alex had also acostomed to the nice weather, well his body had. For a fourteen year old in eigth grade, he was pretty tall. Infact he was the tallest of his class, which gave a bad impresion to most people. Everyone at first sight thought that he was an aggresive boy, although he wasn't really passive, he didn't fight too much. The only times he fought was when, either his friends needed help, or someone had pissed him off very highly.

"Hmm, I guess its time too go to the gym, I hope I still have the skills to play decent ball" Alex thought to himself

"John I'm here bitch, you got here yet?" Alex shouted into the gym

Silence. Apparently John hadn't arrived yet, he figured he should practice a bit. He looked around to see if there were any balls around. He was delighted when he saw the bag full of basketballs. He carefully took one out and practiced his shooting a rebounds. His shooting had lost some accuracy, but his rebounds were still solid. He need to warm up before John arrived, he didn't want to lose badly. If Alex was anything, he was definetly a bad loser. He heard footsteps from afar.

"Shit, John is here already, I hope I'm ready to play against him" Alex thought

But as he saw who was coming in he got really suprised. It was Clara. Alex freaked out really quick and ran away behind some racks that were out.

"Hmm, John told me to meet Alex here, he told me Alex needed to tell me something." Clara thought outloud

"Son of a bit...." Alex frowned, he had been deeply tricked

Clara apparently noticed the balls that were laying around, she went and picked a ball up. She got into some weird position and shot. He long blonde hair jumped as she jumped to shoot, he could notice her smooth skin as the...


She had made the shot from the three pointer line. Alex was really impressed with the shot and thought the sight was ethereal. He might have been exagerating but he didn't care, he wanted to talk t Clara and get to know her better.

"Hey Clara, that... that was a nice shot you just made" Alex said trembling

"Oh, hi there Alex. Yeah I'm really into basketball, have been playing since I was small." Clara said proudly

"Hehe, I used to play when I was younger, but I quit" Alex implied

"Aww, thats a shame, with such a large body you could do good with a Basketball career. I for one really like guys who play sports, especially basketball. Also what was it that you wanted to tell me, John said you needed to ask me something?" Clara told him

"Thank you John" Alex thought joyfully

"Oh yeah, I had heard that you had awesome hoop shots, and I've been planning on getting into basketball again, so I need some help on getting my game again, think you could help me a bit?"

"Of course I'll help you! Well ok come over here, the first thing you do is..." Clara told him

"God I thank you for giving me a friend like John, and John I love you man!" Alex thought to himself

And so after 2 weeks Clara taught Alex how to shoot properly, and as the time passed they got to know each other, and secretly Clara was starting to have feelings for Alex, and at the same time Alex was realizing he had deeper feelings than a simple crush, until...

"Hey Clara, I've been wanting to ask you something" Alex told Clara

"Hmm, shoot?" Clara answered

"Well, I really like you Clara, and I have liked you since like forever. I wana ask you out, so do you accept?" Alex asked while blushing

"Oh Alex, I've been wanting the same thing with you, I like you alot too." Clara shouted loudly

So then Alex and Clara began with their relationship, they were really happy and Alex had become a splendid basketball player, and all just for his true love. His schools team though, was winning the local cup, and at the final match Alex and John were talking during play time.

"So have you made out with her yet" John asked eagerly

"Dude, were in the middle of a game here, and since your so interested, no I haven't" Alex said annoyed

"You should really kiss her soon, but anyways lets keep on playing, here make the shot she taught you" John told him while passing him the ball

As Alex prepared to make the winning shot, he remember his experience with Clara and what he felt for her. They won the game and later that day while celebrating their victory Alex finally grew the courage to make out with Clara.

Years later, stories of the Basket of Love spread through the little island of Dominican Republic, it is said that the shot is a very inspiring shot and should be apreciated. As for our two main characters Clara and Alex, they grew up and got married, Alex became a basketball player andd Clara hanged on with him, and they lived for long happy years. As for John, he became a basketball legend and is kept in the records of top 10 basketball players and number 1 best friend on Alex's list.

  • Member since: Sep. 26, 2007
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 11
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 02:07:53

Sorry if this sucks but I'm new to writing. Thanks. :)

Title:"Bloody Angel"

I woke uncomfortable. "Damn!" I say to myself. "Damn monkey's must have been poking me again". I pick up my sharpened rock I call my weapon, simple really. Just a rock attached to a stick with some twine. You know, like those cavemen in those cartoons. "Aah cartoons, how wonderful they were...". "Ah yes, I'm talking to myself again..". It does get quite lonely here, so I resort to talking to myself. No big deal right?

It was time to go hunting. Getting food here was dangerous, you can't just think your the hunter all the time, not with all the other hunters somewhere hiding in the trees. The only food that's easy getting is monkey shit. They do that everywhere you know..

I start walking deep into the jungle, quietly...but fast. And there it is! Sleeping baby...just waiting for me to go tear it up! I walk slowly towards my sleeping prey, not too fast now..Time for the hit, and here it goes-

*Rustle Rustle*

"Shit!" I say to myself quietly. I guess I'm not the only one who found an easy target... wait a minute now...I know that pattern anywhere. It's the damn mother of that sleeping lunch! No matter, I'll take them both down. I ready myself to attack. Wait for it...Wait for it...


I launch myself at the speed of light towards the sleeping tiger, and raise my weapon high for the kill!

"Aah!" I yelled. The yell that alerted my death. The yell..that made me miss my lunch..

I fall to the ground with a bleeding bite mark on my right arm. I look up and see the mother's face angered at me for disturbing the cub's sleep. Another tiger pops out of the high grass. "Oh so it's three versus one now?" I said to them. "Time to take you down!" and as I finished that triumphant yell, I run back, BACK! All the way out the tropical jungle, back to my camp where I settled near the shores of the island.

But too late. I feel a sharp pain on my leg and fall to the ground. As I get up to flee once again, I am pounced on by something really heavy. The dad I suppose. My back is scratched hard as I feel my blood splattering out of my body. I am too weak to defend myself so I wait to die. Then I see another person. angel! An angel from the heavens has come to save me! But angels don't bleed...or is that my blood? No matter, those great white feathery wings don't fool anyone. The "angel" touches my head and I feel no more pain. I see a white light and everything fades away...

BBS Signature
  • Member since: Jun. 5, 2009
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 02
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 09:01:14

Hey guys. I've been on NG for years and years but I had an old account and it was pretty nooby. I decided to start new and try and make a name for myself :).
I hope you enjoy my story. Mind you, it's pretty graphic at some points but it has some strong poetic narrative so it should be good. Best of luck to everyone else out there also. This should be a great month!
So without further Adieu, here we go!


The glimmer of natural sunlight proved to be an essence of life to John as he used every ounce of power to separate his eye lids from one another, and reveal his new location. It took several moments which to John felt like time had been a concept of another dimension. Bit by bit, his senses and feelings came back to him. His eyes adjusted to the natural beauty of the tropical forest around him, his ears aloud the relaxing sounds of extraordinary bird hymns enter and he could smell the aromas those proudly colourful flowers gave off.
But his eyes quickly caught the sight of a tropical rainforest masking his new grave. He could hear the tame ripping nose of the rope keeping him up in the tree, and he could now catch the smell of a corpse in front of him. The trickle of blood running down his chin in a line gathered into a fine drop, before breaking away and descending to the soil ground beneath him, forming a small pool. John felt a staggering pain coming from his head where he quickly placed his right hand and pressed against it in a helpless manner. He received the cold yet refreshing feel of his own blood spread through his palm and travel through the small creases that marked his hand, later to dry and turn to crust, only to hammer his mind with these awful memories which he currently lived in.
Looking around, he quickly took in his surroundings. He was suspended not too high off the ground on a rope, caught in a large tree. There were many other trees looming high above him, their leaves dancing about in the wind as if to express their joyous feelings. There were no animals around him; nothing living. What he did see, was the corpse of a well recognized figure in Johns life, and before he could yell out his emotions the rope holding him up snapped free and he unexpectedly hit the ground.
He was now in a world of silence. Time froze. It was as if his surroundings vanished, and it were only John and the lifeless man in front of him. As John got to his feet, he pathetically made his way towards him, eyes watery. His head pounded in pain, but his emotions suppressed such aches. As he reached the body lying limp on its side, he quickly grabbed it with bloody hands and rolled him over on its side, now seeing its face. The eyes were widened, the jaw hanging low as though smacked. Just looking at such an image told John that he had experienced a frightening death, and quickly John remembered what had happened. They were parachuting, dropping from the sky at an incredible rate. Both of them enjoying themselves, as if they were invincible. These thoughts were quickly proved wrong.
Disaster made its first appearance when Johns brother Steven pulled his chute. He closed his eyes and bit his teeth, expecting to hear the constant deafening whoosh sound come to a halt as the piece of cloth jolted him back. But that never happened, and panic commandeered. Johns from behind heroically dove forward and held out a hand pointing to the emergency chute. He shouted but it was pointless. The efforts only caused him to have less air left in his lungs and could have caused him to pass out in mid air, assuring both their deaths.
Steven was now coming down to land at a high rate. His body spun around as if his body were a rag doll being carelessly tossed about in the air. With his hands he searched his upper body for the emergency string, but he couldn't find it and yelled in fear. John started catching up with Steven and swung out to catch him. He first attempt was a fail, but he was unwilling to hand his brothers soul over so easily. Again, he dove forward and reached out.
The two brothers were relieved to be reunited and wasted some precious seconds as they grabbed each other tightly in mid air. There was only a thousand feet between them and the ground at this rate. Even now was too late, but John pulled his chute, and after three seconds he was jolted back up as the chute made its appearance, causing a dramatic speed drop. His body hung in the air now like a kite, his feet dangling freely, allowing him to feel proud once again.
The thrilling excitement blinded him from the absence of his brother and when he realized that they must have lost grip between themselves, he yelled in a vicious cry, one that would scare even the most ruthless beings. He looked down hoping to see his brother within arms length, but there was no sight of him. What he did see was a tree line reaching up at him, like demon hands snatching a foul character from the surface and dragging him below to his fiery prison. John closed his eyes as the impact was made and his conscious was quickly lost.
Now John found himself on his knees as he tore his way through dirt. His eyes were red and looked as if they were overfilled with water, but didn't erupt just yet. His lips slightly parted, revealing teeth as if they were from a greyhound. His face was frightening, looking as if it were filled with anger and hate. He didn't make and human sounds as he dug a hole with his hands like a dog. Dirt crawled through under his finger nails. John didn't take any notion of this. He didn't care any more.
It was nightfall when John has the body of his brother resting underground. John spent hours at the grave, standing above it, staring down at the rich soil. He didn't say anything. Not even a single muscle moved. His dark hair refused to move in the calm wind, and his once bright blue eyes were hidden in the night. The blood on his face was dry and stained there as if it wasn't even attempted to be removed. The horrific gash left its trademark on Johns forehead, and all signs of human life form escape through the hole and danced away in the night.
John woke as soon as the sun started its climb into the powerfully blue sky. John was at first reluctant to leave his brothers grave, but once he did it seemed as if he had forgotten all about him. He left what was left of him and his brother behind at that grave. John removed his torn clothing and felt clean and new as he made his way through the jungle. It wasn't long before his feet now stood on warm, yellow sand. Before him was a large glass like ocean. It was possible to see through it from where John stood and he made his way to the foot of the ocean. The calm sea water crawled up to Johns feet and retreated back to the ocean before repeating the process. John accepted the sea water at his feet. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to hear the sounds of the water rushing up and down the shore. His arms slowly raised till they were spread out and stood parallel to the ground. It was as if he had now bonded with the island.
An hour later John found himself back at that same spot on the beach after he walked around the islands sandy perimeter. He knew from above that this was a small paradise. He was supposed to call for a boat after he and his brother safely landed on the beach of the island, but his brothers rough impact not only destroyed himself but the equipment he brought with him. It didn't look like John wanted to be taken away either. Not once did he say a word since he mourned over his brothers death. All his thoughts were no longer inside his mind. His brain had a breakdown after the incidents of the previous day. John was no longer the man he used to be. He was now just a creature of the island.

-Continued next post-

  • Member since: Jun. 5, 2009
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 02
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 09:03:02

When the skies darkened and the stars stood in the blackness above, Johns stomach began to growl and his mouth was dry, screaming for water. He sat facing the endless ocean with the jungle to his back. There was no one else on the island, and he had come across no signs of food; not an animal trotted across the island that could have been helplessly used as a supply of food. There were probably many beautiful and meaty fish darting about the corals in the marine before him, but John didn't eat fish any way, and despite his growing hunger, he showed no signs of it. He acted as if he didn't need to drink, didn't need to eat only breath, and the island would look after him.
Days had passed and John carried on his routine that possessed no goals at the other end. At this stage, though, he dropped to his knees as he was walking through the jungle on one of his ordinary walks. He was too weak to carry on, he heard non-existent voices in his head. John yelled for the first time in a week and pleaded for 'them' o leave him alone. Sweat poured out and travelled down his bearded face, dodging the facial hair like obstacles. His eye balls were now yellow, his fingernails black and his teeth rugged. He knew what he had to do to continue.
Returning to the spot that marked horrific memories, John dropped to his brothers grave and started to dig it up once again. This time, there was no emotion. His face expressionless, though his mouth wide open as if he were a hungry lion about to eat its prey. As the hole got bigger and bigger, he finally came across the rotting corpse. The skin was caked in soil but pale underneath. It gave off a foul smell, but John ignored his. He pulled the body out with his rough hands and tossed it on the ground before him. Dropping to it again, he quickly brushed off remaining mud and insects till it was clean before him. His mouth watered and his tongue slowly slid out between his lips to lick them. Steven still wore the sky diving suit, and in one of the pockets rested a blade. John grabbed the handle of the blade and with his free hand, grabbed a chunk of flesh around Stevens arm. Surprisingly, John hesitated briefly and the steel blade in his hand shook, but he quickly brought it down and tore through the skin. Slashing, slicing, tearing. The only sounds that filled the jungle were of the blade ripping its way through the rotten flesh and the blood seeping through the wounds.
As the sun was retreating beyond the horizon creating a large glimmer of light magnifying across the water displaying beautiful colours, Johns growls had ceased. He had eaten four fingers from the night hand of his brother and drank the blood. But as he sat on a rock at the shore side with droplets of water dashing up in the air and bombarding his body, he felt pain. The pain of eating away at his brother? Perhaps. He did not know the cause, nor did he care. His barbaric actions have further disintegrated any signs of human life out of him. If anyone saw him, they would not only see a mad man, not just a withered animal trying to survive, but a monster.
The next day the hunger had returned, and instantly John knew what to do. He went back into the jungle and carried himself to the spot where his brother lay on the soil by the hole he did not fill. Flies hopped around the body, crawling on the still opened eyes and exploring the regions of the body. The blood had dried into the floor, and the knife lay there stuck into the chest of the corpse where John had left it. John brought the knife back into place, and licked the cold steel blade as blood ran off its tip. He went back to the brutally mauled hand, and continued to take off its thumb and chunks of flesh from the palm. He yelled and growled as he did this, like the sound of a grizzle bear mauling through its prey. John presented the meat to him with a shaky hand and pressed his teeth through the meat, tearing it and chewing it. His head started to spin, however, and he could feel a burning sensation in him. Just like he felt the day before, now only worse. He dropped to his knees, coughed out the food and pounded the ground in pain with his left hand.
That only increased the pain. As his vision began to blur, he raised his hand to see the cause, but could see nothing at all. All fingers were missing, blood ran down his arm like a gushing waterfall and as he turned it around he could see the bone inside without a garment of skin to protect it. He opened his mouth with little remaining energy to let out another beastly groan, but only blood came out. Looking to the ground in disbelief to where he had left his brother, he saw nothing. There was no rotting corpse on the ground, no lost brother of John. It had all been self delusion.
John fell to the ground on his side and curled his naked body up while placing his wounded hand to his face. It felt as though it had been crushed and set on fire by a menacing man. But the only menace here, was John.
The body ceased to shake, the moans had died out and the lifeless island continued its daily routine.

  • Member since: Feb. 11, 2006
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 05
Voice Actor
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 21:26:22

Ulevi Tiu (Part 1)


Ulevi Tiu. That was the name of the island. If you want some general idea of how big it was, think Rhodes in Greece but with a slightly smaller population and more jungle. The island was in the South Pacific Ocean from what I could figure, and could be found if you went directly west of Peru and searched around in that big empty pond of water for a little while.

Ulevi Tiu didn't actually exist at first. It was constructed by the United States Government so that they could see if it was possible to create artificial land masses and if they could support human life. Bullshit, you say? Good, then you're paying attention.

Anyway, back to the island. It was finished way back in 2006, and at that point they had to set out their little teams of scientists to sow the seeds of life. After only two years, they had grown an entire jungle on the island's surface, and had already begun their search for their new guinea pigs. They, of course, ended up plucking countless people from varied places around the U.S. and chucking them onto their island.

At first everybody was, of course, scared and upset. They had, after all, been kidnapped by their own government and tossed on some unknown island out in who-knows-where. However, after a few months, it became obvious they had to take advantage of the supplies they'd been given and learn to survive in this new environment. Of course, it wasn't easy, but over the course of six more months several factions had already formed and taken control of their portions of the island, and the government had been just about to call their experiment a success.

That's where I came in.

My name is Jeff Veisman, and I led the smallest faction in the entirety of Ulevi Tiu. We were Tiu Reborn, or as we are commonly called, the Reborn. I arrived here on the southern half of the island when the first few groups of people were being herded in via disguised tankers. The second I reached the first government constructed town I realized what kind of life I'd been thrust into.

The first place I encountered had been converted into the settlement of Veil, and the entire place was under the control of the then first and strongest faction of Ulevi Tiu: The Ulevi Elite. These self-proclaimed kings of the island used to be prison inmates; every one of them was some sort of homicidal maniac with the brain of a rusted wrench but the body of a professional athlete... all except for one: Gordon Stern. This guy was the worst of 'em by far. He was a skinny, wrinkly old muppet of a man, but was undeniably brilliant and had managed to start a revolt on his tanker when it arrived on the island, overwhelming his captors with his easily controlled army of beefed up idiots. Though the boat was rigged to become useless the second it hit land his men still managed to get plenty of loot from their enemies, including piles of advanced weapons and technology.

When I arrived the town of Veil was where they were just setting up and it was obvious they were planning to expand. They had turned many of the town's inhabitants (captured people) into their personal slaves and had been forcing a great many of them to go out and build more towns in the surrounding area. To keep things short and sweet, I didn't approve of what they were doing and set out to change things. Though I had no weapons, was stuck in a dirty pair of brown pants, and was shirtless I still had my wits about me.

Everything went pretty much according to plan. I arrived at night when most of the guards were off duty and managed to snag myself an unconscious drunk of a man who had wandered off out of town and passed out. I stole his uniform, and managed to convince a few of the guys in town (all also drunk) to start a small revolt outside against their leader. While the drunks were outside screaming and picking fights with the sober guys with guns I managed to convince plenty of the other common people who happened to be out at the time to join our cause. It took a bit of time, standing on the street corner and yelling out into the masses, but eventually I got a good crowd going.

We charged Gordon's home, which was essentially a big ragtag fort packed with armed guards, and I let the people do the work. Their numbers were greater than the guards, and swarming the place worked perfectly well. Amidst the chaos I managed to slip in, my guard uniform working as the perfect disguise, and by the end of the night the town was full of revolting commoners battling a handful of loyal soldiers. I headed for Gordon Stern's room at the very top of his fort, but by the time I broke past his personal guards with my small army of followers I found he had already made his escape out his literal backdoor. I walked out in time to see him rushing off in an armored convoy towards a back-up settlement farther north. That bastard had managed to slip through my fingers... and he'd live to irritate me for years to come.

  • Member since: Feb. 11, 2006
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 05
Voice Actor
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 22:00:18

Ulevi Tiu (Continued)


Since then, Veil had expanded into a full blown city-state, and it soon grew to encompass the entirety of the Southern tip of the island. The Ulevi Elite had also grown though, and as we took control of the South of the Island the Elite had begun taking control of it's Western coast and North. Not only that, but the damn Elite had started systematically striking at our borders, and we had slowly been losing supply routes.

Tensions were rising steadily, and the Reborn and the Elite were preparing for war. I knew we only had so much time before the government would get involved again. Because of this I had called a meeting with my right hand man, Farley Grund, a bear of a man whom I'd met while leading an attack on a government tanker that had just arrived. We had since become close friends, and now I knew I needed him more than ever. As he walked into the room he knew just by my expression what I wanted to talk about.

"Farley, we're running out of options," I began quietly as he entered the room. "The people are becoming worried, and our border defenses are taking a real beating. I don't want to send our people through the pains of war, but I'm starting to think it's becoming inevitable..."

Farley just gave me a throaty laugh, his deep chuckles echoing through the room. I gave him a curious glance and saw that he seemed as calm and confident as ever, the opposite of my current worried and stressed state.

"You need to calm down, or you won't be able to think clearly. I know we're low on food and supplies, but we can still move up along the East coast, can't we?" Farley obviously didn't know why nobody had control of the Eastern part of the island yet.

A few weeks back, my board of strategists began to notice that the Elite had been attempting to take the Eastern coast and the entire middle of the island. However, for some reason, they had been failing. Of course, this interested us, and so we sent our own scout squads up into the wilderness to figure out just what was going on.

What returned to us was a short video feed showing the absolute worst sight I'd ever seen in my life.

I remember the day fondly. My board of strategists and myself had just received the recording from the last surviving soldier of the scout squad. At first we didn't believe his mad ramblings, but once we popped in the video it all became clear.

The government had arrived with their full force. I watched the video as it started off showing the truck suddenly getting hit by an intense barrage of gunfire from somewhere up ahead. As the cameraman was ducking for cover in the back seat the entire vehicle was suddenly knocked on it's side by an unknown nearby explosion. The poor man crawled out of the vehicle as it was lit aflame, and he rushed for cover in the trees alongside his fellow men.

"Damn! What the hell was that?" cried out one soldier.
"Look, up ahead! Governmental soldiers!" yelled another, and as the camera turned from the men to the path ahead the gunfire ceased for a moment to reveal it's source.

An entire blockade had been set up, and behind it were several top-of-the-line military turrets, backed up by heavily armed soldiers of the U.S. army. They were clad in strange camo uniforms and wearing gas masks for some reason, and several seconds after the camera took in their image the soldiers caught movement and began firing into the trees madly.

"Warning! All inhabitants of this immediate area! Governmental control has been instituted in this area to end all violence! Please place down your firearms and surrender at once!" The strange female voice rang out from somewhere behind the blockade, and yet, as she ordered for surrender the rain of lead from the soldiers up ahead did not let up. Our men tried to retreat, but suddenly a grenade flew out from above and a sick greenish gas began to fill the air. Our men began to cough and sputter, screaming and yelling how their lungs were burning and how it felt as if their insdies were melting.

The cameraman scrambled away, just out of reach of the vicious gases in the air, and rushed away from the horrible scene. Jets could be heard from overhead, and as various explosions went off from all around, the camera suddenly cut off, leaving us all at a loss. The entire room was silent, and we knew we faced a threat far greater than any we'd encountered ever before. These people controlled the island. I'd spoken with one of their generals once before, approached and applauded for my leadership and they'd even told me of the creation of the island. Too bad now they were trying to take it all back.

"Farley, the U.S. government has taken the East coast... War is at our doorstep, and now that the island's creators have arrived we can't avoid it any longer. We have to act now or we'll die under their bullets!"

Farley just sighed and crossed his arms. Suddenly his face took on a grim new look, and before I could say anything he'd pulled a gun on me. I grimaced at the strange sight, but then my face quickly changed from horror to hatred. My eyes shot up from his weapon and I gave him a furious glare.

"Oh Jeff, I've been wanting to avoid this, but now that you know I'm afraid I'll have to carry out my duty."

  • Member since: Feb. 11, 2006
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 05
Voice Actor
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-05 22:09:16

Ulevi Tiu (End)


"How much did they pay you, Farley?" I asked angrily as I backed away towards the window at the back of the room, the traitor slowly walking towards me. "How much did they offer you to betray us from the inside?" The bastard just laughed at me.

"They didn't pay me anything, Jeff. I was with them from the start. They sent me here on the tanker and mixed me in with the other random people with the orders to make my way into one of the major factions and report how they've built their civilization up from start to finish. Now that they've arrived my mission is done, and all I've got left to do is take out one of the factions' leaders and take control, making taking the rest of the island that much easier." Farley fired a shot into my shoulder and I quickly yelped in pain and gripped the wound. However, I kept moving back, slowly inching around the back of my desk. if I could just reach the gun in my drawer...

"You'll never succeed. The people know I'm their only leader and won't accept a sudden change without a proper explanation, and my soldiers are loyal. They'll get the truth of the matter out before you can report back to your damned superiors." As I reached my destination I moved as fast as I could, opening a drawer on my desk and pulling out a hidden handgun. Farley was faster than me, though, and his aim was superb. He shot my hand and forced me to drop the gun, and then closed the distance between us before I could even look back up from my new wound. Before I knew it, the gun was in my gut and I was forced back to the window of the tower.

"Don't you get it, you idiot? They don't have to believe me. They'll believe it when they see the island come to life, it's very surface breaking apart to release the men we have waiting just beneath it's surface. You already know we built it, and we can just as easily use it as a weapon against you. In fact, while I've been distracting you, the bomb we have set under the center of the city has been armed and set to count down!" He shot me in the stomach and laughed manically. My once best friend betrayed me, loyal to another cause entirely, and was throwing away the lives of hundreds of innocents for one shitty experiment...

"What!?" I exclaimed. A bomb? Suddenly I heard an explosion in the distance, and as I turned I saw an orb of red light rushing towards us.

"You bastard! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!!" I yelled, turning again as fast as my injured body would to face my new enemy. Ignoring the pain rushing through my body as he fired off bullet after bullet into me in a frantic rush, I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him back with me. Our combined weight broke the window, and we fell down through the air, his bullets continuously cutting through me, and my fists continuously pulling back and crashing into his body until we were both two mere bloody masses of flesh floating towards the surface of the artificial island. The white light engulfed the building behind us and easily wrapped around our beaten bodies. The flames surrounded us in seconds, and a strange, almost indescribable feeling came over me.

I felt nothing but an odd cool breeze. My vision was instantly filled with a blinding bright light, but it didn't bother me after a few seconds. I could feel every ounce of my being disintegrating in the intense heat within seconds, and in those last few moments of life a few annoying thoughts passed through my mind.

It was all for nothing... Everything I'd worked for was part of their devious experiment.

The explosion engulfed the entire city, and the whole bottom half of the island was swallowed by hellfire. However, the island was merely an artificial creation, and thus it would regenerate in only a year or two.

It's strange to think everything I did to make that city for those poor people and myself was all just part of some bizarre experiment. Apparently, it was a success, and as such, when experiments are done and over with, the test subjects must apparently be disposed of to make place for new ones in the next experiment.

That kinda sucks, doesn't it?...

  • Member since: Nov. 2, 2008
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 01
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-06 00:36:48

Part 1
2034 Words in entire submission

Sitting on the hard seats in the helicopter, the soldier checked his gun. It was shiny, it was black, and it was loaded. All he needed. The ocean whizzed by beneath him, lit only by the moon, which reflected eerily in the rippling waters. The soldier wore a black helmet which covered the top half of his face. Technical readouts that would have confused most people flashed in front of his eyes quickly. The chopper had several other soldiers, all dressed just like him, waiting to land. Together, there were fifteen choppers, each with ten troops.
The group flew over the sea, quiet but for the blades whipping through the air. Radio silence had been ordered. Finally, they began to slow. The soldiers tensed. Below them was an island, the picture perfect kind of island with a thick jungle and sandy beaches with calm waters. There were two mountains jutting out of the forest, and in the deepest part of the foliage there was a massive fire burning. The smoke blotted out the stars.
The choppers landed, and the troops dashed off, sand flying into the air around them. They cocked their guns, and waited for orders. They came.
"Shoot on sight."
The soldiers advanced slowly, wary of the dark spaces the trees gave whatever it was they'd be shooting to hide in. From within the foliage, there were faint screams. As they got closer, the screams grew louder. It was the scream of a group of people screaming as one, unified in their terror.
Soon, the heat from the flames could be felt through the leaves.
"Sounds like they're doing our job for us" one soldier said, making the rest of them jump. One thumped him on the back of the head, and motioned for quiet.
"Asshole" he muttered, glancing back to the man who'd hit him. His gaze went back to the forest ahead of him, and he saw it. Briefly. He caught a glimpse of a figure with a bloodied face, a mouth that seemed too big, and skin that was burning. Then, his throat was ripped out, and he saw no more.
"Shit!" another soldier shouted, opening fire. The sound of bullets filled the air, and the attacker fell to the ground, blood spurting from its wounds. A soldier approached it. Despite the years of training he'd had, the emotions he'd managed to purge from his body, the soldier gagged, and turned away, heaving.
The body was what could have been a man. The eyes were slightly gone, gouged hastily with bare hands, leaving small bits of the retinas behind. Blood covered the entire face. The mouth was agape much too wide. The jaw's hinges had been snapped. The teeth were broken and caked with mud. At the moment, most of the skin was burning, and where it wasn't there were gaping holes that showed the muscle beneath. It wore no shirt, and it's chest was torn open in several places. An organ was hanging out of a particularly large hole in the abdomen.
The screams grew closer. From out of the forest, more of them came. Their mouths perpetually opened, emitting an ear shattering cry from deep within the throat, which echoed through one's head.
"OPEN FIRE!" a soldier shouted. The guns burst to life, and bullets tore through the leaves, and into the flesh of the Its. Blood flew, and splattered onto the trees. Some of them collapsed, others dashed forth, lunging at the nearest soldier.
One soldier stood at the back of the group, gun raised, waiting for a clear shot. His name was Wilson G. Froid, and he was scared shitless. Beneath his helmet, he had soft features, and eyes that looked like they belonged in a commercial for baby powder. His hair had been curly and brown before the army had shaved him bald.
Wilson desperately tried to find something to shoot, but soldiers mixed with the Its closely. So all he could do was watch as his friends were slaughtered.
Gregor, a large man with a blocky face who played a mean game of Blackjack, fell to the ground, choking as a female It tore his tongue from his throat, raking his chest with her free hand. Michelle, one of the only females in the unit, whom Wilson had harbored a schoolyard crush for since he had signed up, struggled to shoot the thing that was plunging its hands into the gaping wound in her stomach.
And there was Harold. Sweet old Harold. He'd taught Wilson everything when they'd been assigned as bunkmates. How the army really worked. The way world politics worked. How to keep a tan without burning. The perfect way to stare at a woman's chest without her noticing. Harold was long gone. A thing was clutching a chunk of his head in its hand, howling triumphantly.
Wilson retched, and vomited, his eyes swimming with tears. He stumbled, and fell back. The gunshots were becoming less and less, and the screams louder and louder. There were only a few of them left. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder, and Wilson yelped, raising his gun and firing.
"Hey! You stupid sunnuvabitch!" Wilson looked up, and saw a man he couldn't remember clutching his bloody arm. "Look before you shoot! Let's get the hell out of here." His voice was brave, but beneath it there was a shakiness of pure terror. Wilson jumped to his feet, and dashed after the soldier. A few others ran with them. Those that stayed kept firing, shouting out "Cowards!" "Stay and fight!" "We'll hold ou-" This last voice was cut off as the speaker's ribs were torn from his chest.
The survivors dashed to the beach. In the air, the helicopters hovered a good distance from the shore. A soldier lit a flare, and waved it desperately, while the rest of them called out. The choppers remained where they were. Then, as one, they swerved, and flew off, heading back the way they'd come.
Wilson stared after them in horror. Gone? That wasn't possible. He looked at the dark sea in front of him. There was no way out. The Its were advancing, having finished off the brave (foolish) soldiers. Wilson turned back to the forest, and sobbed.
"Let's get a move on. The mountains." Said a clearheaded soldier.
"Mountains? Are you nuts? We'd be trapping ourselves!" screamed a less clearheaded soldier. "I'm swimming for it!" he shrugged off his gear, and leapt into the waves, frantically paddling away. Fear had clouded his mind, and he could not remember that the flight over had been three hours over the ocean.
"Right. Let's get a move on" said a soldier, voice shaking. They headed off the beach, Wilson bringing up the rear. He turned, and watched the swimmer grow smaller and smaller. Finally, the head disappeared beneath the waves, and the drowning soldier gained a moment of clarity, thinking: "Better than what they're gonna get" as water filled his lungs.
He was right.

Sunlight shone through the mouth of the cave. Wilson blinked rapidly, and sat up, trying to remember where he was and why his back felt like he'd slept on rocks. Looking down, he discovered the reason for his second inquiry. The first...
Despite what they say in the movies, the horrible memories didn't come rushing back as one, hitting Wilson in a wave of despair. They trickled back to his groggy mind slowly, detail after detail, until he had basically relived the entire night. He stood on quaking legs, and walked outside the cave, where he proceeded to vomit again.
The jungle below looked less intimidating in the sunlight. The smell of burning wood reached his nose, and Wilson closed his eyes. He could pretend he was camping. Just a little trek. The image was somewhat ruined by the continuous echoes of screams from the land below.
Wilson walked back into the cave, and shook the other soldiers awake. He noticed there were less of them then there had been when he'd gone to sleep.

  • Member since: Nov. 2, 2008
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 01
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-06 00:38:50

Part 2

Bret, a wiry man with a nervous twitch, which hadn't been helped by what he'd seen in the past twenty-four hours, sat up with a start.
"Why haven't they come back?" he questioned nervously.
"Back?" Wilson asked, trying to rub his incredible headache away,
"Some of them went to get food earlier this morning. They're not ba-" Bret cut himself off, and stared at the cave wall. The others lowered their heads.
Wilson sat heavily on the floor, blinking slowly. This should be hitting him harder than it was, shouldn't it?
"Radio's are all dead" someone said. Of course they were.
"We're all dead" someone else said. Of course they were.
Wilson sniffed, and rubbed his nose with a filthy hand.
"Why would they send us here?" he asked nobody. "They probably had no idea what it was. Just throw troops at it, make it go away" He felt numb everywhere.
"Hey, where you going Tod?" came a voice. Wilson looked up. A soldier, Tod apparently, was walking to the mouth of the cave, clutching his gun. He was whispering to himself. Wilson couldn't hear what he was saying.
The man left the cave. Someone stood and followed him. There was a gunshot, and a shout. Wilson jogged out of the cave with less urgency than he would have a day ago. The second soldier was standing at the edge of the cliff upon which the troops hid, staring down. Wilson caught a glimpse of something falling into the trees.
That was it. The final straw. The sight of that limp black form disappearing into the trees broke something within Wilson. He twitched again. His mind was derailing, tearing itself apart. He walked back into the cave, slack jawed, with a blank expression on his face. He picked up his gun, and stared at it. Shiny. Black. Loaded. Just like when he'd come here.
He pointed it at Bret, who was facing the other way.
"Lemme help you with that" Wilson said darkly, and he pulled the trigger. The gunshots echoed loudly in the cave, and Bret gasped, slumping forward.
"Hey!" somebody shouted, reaching for their gun. Wilson turned to them, and sent the bullets flying.
"Don't be so upset" he said, his voice blank. "I'm saving you from them. Tod had the right idea." The bullets whizzed through the cave, knocking chunks of stone off the walls, knocking blood out of bodies.
Wilson fired away, his expression never changing. Finally, the gun clicked. He dropped it to the ground, and looked around. Nothing but limp forms, some groaning, most not.
Wilson turned, and sat at the mouth of the cave. He stared up at the sky, and cocked his head. The screams were getting louder. He glanced downwards, and saw the Its advancing up the mountain, stumbling over each other, some falling off the rock and plummeting to the forest.
When they finally arrived at the cave, they found the easiest target they'd every encountered. No fighting back while they tore and bit. No gunshots while they ripped and gnashed. It was a lovely change of pace.

The second time the choppers came in, there were many more of them, and they were landing in the bombed out remains of a forest. Learn from your mistakes, after all.
Teams checked the island. When they reached the cave, they found a small group of bodies. Cause of death was bullets.
They also found a body towards the back of the cave, though it was barely recognizable as a body. The arms were broken, a leg was missing, and the skin could not be seen under the coat of dried blood. No eyes, no teeth, and no shortage of gaping holes in the flesh. Cause of death was... nothing.
"P...p....p...please...." it said. "I've.... fin...fing....ers..... to.... p...pu....pull.... tri....tri...trigg-" There was a gunshot. A soldier had taken mercy on Wilson.
The island's final victim died in more agony than the human mind is able to process. It would be useless to try and describe it to you.
So I'll leave it at this: He's dead now. It's better that way.

  • Member since: Jun. 8, 2005
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 20
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-06 00:52:39

Hanut Isle
Part 1

I remember when my dad told me we were moving. I had no idea that he and mom had been discussing it for almost a year. It would have been nice to know about, but I guess it wouldn't really have changed things. They've told me they were thinking about moving before and we never did.

I liked living in Illinois. There wasn't really anything exceptional about it, but it felt like home. I had, after all, been there all my life. Its the place where I got my first kiss in middle school, had my first beer freshman year, lost my virginity and become a God to my friends my sophomore year, and graduated 17th in my class of 378 students. I felt like I was on top of the world. I had a great girlfriend and had just gotten accepted into Northwestern.

Of course moving to Hanut changed all that. I tried to convince my parents to let me still go to Northwestern while they went to Hanut, but they didn't feel comfortable with me in America while they are on the other side of the world. Sure, there's a college on Hanut, but it consists of two huts and a total of 17 students. Only 3 of which are American. The rest are Hanutan, or Hanutian, or whatever the hell they call themselves.

f course since I was moving at the end of the summer I had to tell my girlfriend. I figured it was easiest to break up with her now, seeing as any more attachment would only make the move harder. I had to explain to her that Hanut was a little island off the coast of Japan. My dad was a doctor and they had some kind of viral outbreak and my he was one of the 3 doctors in all of America chosen to go help. She wasn't too happy with it, but she understood it had to be done. I told her I'd keep in touch, but I knew the chances of me doing that were pretty slim as I would have no computer on Hanut and I was too lazy to write a proper letter.

The end of the summer came quickly. It seemed to go even more quickly than usual. Looking back on it I wish I would've spent more times with friends and partying and going out, but I just lazily sat around and played video games like most summers. I went out some, but nothing spectacular happened. Just a boring summer before I had to completely change my way of life.

Of course at the time I was 18 so I could've found a way to stay back and live on my own. A lot of my friends commented on my lack of fighting over the issue with my parents. I just kind of went along with it and I don't know why. Most kids would hear "no computer, no television, few Americans, and small island off the coast of Japan" and fight to their death to avoid it. I didn't. I just kind of went with it.

It didn't seem so bad at first. The boat that took us to Hanut from Japan was a nice 40 footer. I was expecting a canoe. Even the island wasn't so bad when we landed. I remember wondering why they needed American doctors. No one looked sick. Looking back it seems weird that I didn't find myself wondering why Japanese doctors didn't just jump on a boat and fix them up quickly and be on their way.

Once we got to our house, I mean hut, I threw my bags down in the middle of the dirt floor and had no idea what to do next. My parents did the same. It was such a shock to us that there seemed to be absolutely nothing to do. We couldn't sit down and watch T.V. We couldn't check our email out of boredom. We stared at each other for what seemed like forever and just walked out of the hut. My mom, dad, and I walked around the tiny village looking for the other Americans that were scheduled to be there and ended up finding the hospital. It looked just like our house, but was twice as big.

As I walked in that hospital the smell almost knocked me over. There were at least 10 beds lined up side by side with these people just sitting up in them crying. There was no sign of where the smell was coming from. They looked fine besides the red, puffy faces from all the crying. My dad found the head doctor, who spoke surprisingly good English for a native of an island that far away from America. My dad asked plenty of questions.

Dr. Natutal answered all of dad's questions the best he could. We learned that the virus broke out 2 weeks ago and that 20 of the islands 150 people had died. Another 40 were showing early stages of the virus and were only getting worse. Japanese doctors had come first, but quickly left after one of them were killed. He was murdered by a local who was upset because the doctor couldn't cure him. They decided to write to America and plea for help. It sounded to me like we just picked a random couple of doctors that we figured we could spare. The chances of my dad getting picked were so small that I couldn't even fathom how small the percentage was. I just kind of accepted the fact that we wouldn't be able to help and I adjusted my attention to trying to avoid the crazy, murdering locals.

After a week I still wasn't adjusting. I had found the 3 other American kids and started hanging out with them. There was a 15 year old and a brother and sister who were twins. The twins were 17 and nothing alike. The boy was kind of nerdy while she was a hip, hyper, and a little off. I found her absolutely insane and I loved it. I found myself drawn to her and spent a majority of my time picking her brain. She asked the weirdest questions. She always wanted to know why I did something. What I was thinking about. What I had dreamt about the night before. I'd never had anyone so interested in me.

School didn't start for another month and I learned that it wasn't even a proper college. My diploma would be considered as a college diploma, but I would be in the same school as the twins, the 15 year old, and a bunch of locals ranging in age from 8 to 25. I wasn't too excited about it. Every couple days my dad would give us an update on the virus, but he still didn't know much. More people were dying and almost every local was showing symptoms. It needed to be put to a stop and quickly or they would all be dead. It didn't seem like that bad to me as terrible as that sounds. I figured that if they all died I could go back to the U.S. in time for a Spring semester at Northwestern and put this island behind me.

I went to the hospital with my dad one day. I went out of pure curiosity. I had no idea what he was doing there so I figured I'd find out. As I walked in I saw dozens of people huddled together in the limited number of beds. They were all crying and the smell was even worse than it was when we first got there. My dad took me to a back room. I guess you would call it a room. There was a plastic wall dividing it from the rest of the hut. In that room were two other doctors, a male and a female, and table full of test tubes and microscopes. The doctors were smiling and I could tell my dad was surprised by the looks on their faces.

They told him that they may be able to cure the virus. I didn't understand what exactly they were saying, but apparently their was something in that populations DNA that was susceptible to toxins from the newly imported, genetically enhanced vegetables from Japan. It didn't make any sense to me, but my dad understood. They said they already sent out word to stop the vegetables from coming in and they could start working on an injection to cure them. Hopefully even the sickest of the natives could be cured.

I walked out of the separated room and into the swarm of sick locals. I could sense the death that was coming for them if the medicine didn't help. I wanted to tell them that they were going to be okay, but they wouldn't have understood me and I wasn't even sure if it was the truth. Even though I didn't know any of them, but I wanted them to live. I honestly wanted them to be okay. They were all fairly nice to me when I got here and they didn't deserve to die.

[part two in next post]

Sig by fahrenheit.

BBS Signature
  • Member since: Jun. 8, 2005
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 20
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-06 01:09:53

Part 2

A week later my dad told me the medicine was working and that we would be able to go back to America far sooner than we thought we'd be able to. I'd make it in time for the Spring semester at Northwestern and we would even be able to live in our old house which hadn't sold yet. I was pretty excited. There wasn't really anything I'd miss about the island. Maybe the twin, but even she wasn't worth all this. It would be fine if it wasn't for the stench of death and lack of all technology and minimal human interaction. No biggie.

We left exactly 3 months after we got there. The Natives all seemed completely cured and my dad got permission from the U.S. government to return home. I was excited and hoped my friends would be happy to hear from me when I got home.

Once we got back things quickly returned to normal. I started dating my old girlfriend that I had left behind and got used to having a computer and T.V. again. I remember sitting at home and watching T.V. one afternoon and there was a news break. I was upset that they interrupted the baseball game that I was watching and I hoped that they would quickly turn back to it. They had breaking news that there had been a fairly large explosion off the coast of Japan. Remembering back to Hanut I watched.

Turns out the Japanese purposely tried to kill the islanders with the vegetables because they killed countless Japanese tourists over the years for no apparent reason. The Japanese got tired of it and tried to kill them off without the world knowing. Who cares about an island of with a population less than 200 people? When the vegetable plan didn't work a group of Japanese scientists created a small atom bomb and obliterated the island. It seemed irrational to me and I had no idea why they would destroy an entire island like that. Seems like they should've went in and shot them all or something. How could a group of scientists secretly build a atom bomb? I didn't even try to understand it.

After the channel went back to the game I tried to forget about the island. Even now, years later I remember the tiny island that I spent 3 months on. It should've affected me more than it actually did. The whole thing was bizarre and should have been life changing. All the elements were there. Death, a strange new place, the complete obliteration of an entire population. I'm more affected by the fact that I wasn't affected than I was by anything that actually went on. How did I not feel anything? I still feel guilty about it all. I always will.

Sig by fahrenheit.

BBS Signature
  • Member since: Mar. 6, 2007
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 20
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-06 17:13:53

Somewhere Else (Part 1)

By Jectoons (JectCartoonMKR).

He sighed as the little rain drops fell through the window glass. Sitting in that corner, with the head in his hands, a pimp on the nose and a pain in the ass. "No more" he thought, "no more". There were some blood stains in his shirt, where the heart is supposed to be.
"You know you want it", claimed a sharp voice in his head. "You can't live without it. Also, who could care about that? For some reason you're trapped in here"
"The rain" he answered mentally. "It's because the rain, leave me alone. They don't want me to catch a cold".
"Sure thing, pal, sure thing. You were here before the rain, and you know it".
"No, I wasn't.... I... I just woke up. It's unfair. I don't deserve this".
"You know? I've been here, in your head, and maybe in this place for quite some time, and I believe I've learned something: everybody gets what they deserve. You made something, maybe not yesterday, maybe not last week, but you did it. And nothing can change it. You're trapped, man, like a lone sailor on a tiny island in one of those cartoons. Trapped, almost jailed, and you don't know why. Life's funny, isn't it?"
"No", he whined, "No, it isn't. Life's cruel. Why am I here!? Who are you, in my head!? And what's that funny tickling in my..."
He suddenly realized that he had been holding his left hand with a lot of strength. He released it and watched his blood-stained right hand accurately. Then his eyes fell on his left hand. It had three fingers missing, nothing but a big red wound left of each of them. And he, suddenly, as well, realized the immense pain he had been feeling since he had been awake. Since the rain had started. Nothing could describe that pain... though "loss" would be okay.
"...Island", he muttered between sobs.
"Why, that is one cute word", laughed that other self.
"You... you said this was an island a while ago... "
"I dreamt of an island... I don't..."
"...quite remember? Yeah, I know. But that is not a problem: I do remember. Also I know why you have 3 fingers missing... and where are they".
He listened to the voice cautiously and then watched his fingers once again. The cuts seemed sort of irregular, like they had been chopped with... teeth. The truth fell upon him like a big safe.
"No. That can't be. I did not do that", he screamed.
"Yes, you did. While you were making that other thing you cut your own three fingers with your mouth and then swallowed them. Why? Well... I'd like to see you trying to remember".
He did remember some stuff. Like falling one time and that great pain in his fingers. But how did it all start? Curious thing, the memory. He struggled to find out what had happened and then, holding his left hand, he raised his bald head to look at the wet window. It was still raining. He started remembering... barely, just some flashing images and sensations. The first thing he remembered was the taste of his own fingers and blood.
Then there were some images that turned red after a little while, not allowing him to see. The mind seems to block painful memories. The pain was strong, he was starting to feel dizzy. Maybe if he had not seen his mutilated hand he would not have felt dizzy, but, what to do?
"Ha. Difficult, isn't it?"asked the voice in his head.
"Shut.... Up..." he managed to say. The world was suddenly fading in and out, then black came.
In dreams he saw himself in the island that voice had mentioned, but it was not exactly an island: it was some building in the middle of the sea, and he was on the roof. The sky was cloudy and there were lightings every now and then. He was standing in the edge while the air waved his hair; all he could do was stare at the sea, the mighty sea, that blue water mass that swallowed everything. Even itself.
Wake up.
Everything's blurry.
"Head hurts, I want to puke", he thought.
"Not just yet", the voice in his head answered, "unless you want to feel your own fingers coming up your throat".
He was lying on some sort of bed with white sheets. With great effort he raised his left hand to see it, and the wounds were covered by some now blood stained bandage. He somehow managed to sit and that was when some door he had not noticed before opened and a man in a white suit came in.
"Hello, Mr. Jenkins", the man in the white suit said "How are you feeling today?"
'So that's my name', thought Jenkins.
'Maybe', said the voice in his head.
"Uh, well... I'm a bit nauseous, but otherwise I'm ok, I guess... Eh... Who are you?" asked Jenkins.
"Good, good. My name is not important, so don't worry about it right now"
'He's dangerous. Don't trust him' said the voice in his head.
"Ah... so... well... where am I, then?"
"You're in Haven Mansion, Mr. Jenkins, a place for people like you".
"People like me?"
"Indeed. People who have lost their minds. And you are a very curious case, if I might add"
"...How so?"
"Hm. Somehow you managed to break through our security system and hide inside the broom room. It took us about 2 hours to find you, and when we did, you were fainted and had three fingers missing. Judging for all the blood in your face and in your mouth I guess you just ate them. Quite... unusual. But it's not as unusual as the fact that you were probably masturbating while you did it." The man in the white suit walked towards Jenkins and grabbed his left hand. He seemed to study it and then he left it where it had been. "You are recovering, Mr. Jenkins, so it's not that of a big loss. Sadly I can't say the same of your mental health".
Jenkins grabbed his mutilated hand. So he had masturbated while he chopped and swallowed his three fingers. The only thought of it made him sick.
"I'm hungry" he said.
"That's fine. But you won't eat until tomorrow. I have to follow the schedule, sorry. I'll leave you here in your room for the rest of the day. Maybe tomorrow I'll let you talk to other... patients. Oh, and by the way, you can't escape. The glass on that window" he pointed it "is made with some plastic with a complicated name, but it's almost unbreakable. And the doors are locked and under vigilance day after day. If you somehow manage to get out of your room and into the corridor you'll find a squadron of our Mental Soldiers who will kill you. We can't afford crazy people running all around the place. Have a nice evening, Mr. Jenkins"
And then he left.
"You can't seriously trust him" said the voice in his head, "But I do believe there are guards out in the corridor, so nothing we can do"
"Who are you?" asked Jenkins "And why am I here? I'm not crazy"
"I'm you... sort of. And, believe me or not, everybody is crazy in their own way. You can't be sane. No one is. Why don't we sleep? Maybe you can find why are you trapped in this 'Haven Mansion' in your dreams. Maybe you can remember your past"
"Maybe" Said Jenkins. He laid in that bed once again and closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep.
The sea was wild as Jenkins watched it from the edge of the roof. He turned his head and saw a big advertisement that said "Haven Mansion. Where nowhere is". He watched the sea again and some rocks too. The rocks seemed red, blood red.
Then he was seeing a kid with a terror face. And a scream. A high pitched scream. Then the sound of bone breaking against something hard, like a rock.

Beware of the mexican animator! (that's me, y'know?)

  • Member since: Mar. 6, 2007
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 20
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-06 17:15:24

Somewhere Else (Part 2)

The sea was wild as Jenkins watched it from the edge of the roof. He turned his head and saw a big advertisement that said "Haven Mansion. Where nowhere is". He watched the sea again and some rocks too. The rocks seemed red, blood red.
Then he was seeing a kid with a terror face. And a scream. A high pitched scream. Then the sound of bone breaking against something hard, like a rock.
Wake up.
"I pushed him" he said.
"Bravo, my friend, bravo" the voice answered. "Dreams tell stuff, huh?"
"But... why?"
"Just 'cause you felt like it. Murder can't be explained. You were alone in that cliff with that kid. You pushed him. He died. Somehow the police found you and you were trapped in here. End of the story".
"But..." he did not finished. He heard the locks in the door being open.
"The food maiden" said the voice, "why would she enter? Maybe she thinks you're asleep. Maybe you could teach her to knock before entering some place. Maybe you could escape".
He knew what to do. But it was not him anymore. He jumped out of the bed and hid behind the door with amazing speed. The maiden entered and Jenkins punched her in the face while she was entering and the food fell out of her hands. She bumped in the floor and Jenkins jumped over her, hitting her with more might every time. She was dead.
"Wow, that was some show" said the voice in his head.
Jenkins stood up and sped through the corridor. He found the stairs and he rushed up.
"Hey... we are supposed to go down, to the exit". Ignoring the voice, he reached another floor in which the people were walking, all of them in white suits. He kept running and reached another set of stairs. There was a sign indicating the roof was just above. Perfect.
Suddenly some alarm started and he could hear the guards' steps longing to catch him. He rushed up the stairs and found a door that wasn't - oh, my - locked. He opened it and found himself on the roof. He ran to the edge, feeling free, ignoring the voice in his head. And when he was about to jump he felt a cold iron bullet in his back. He fell just before reaching the end.
"I told you not to escape" said the man in the white suit he had seen before. He came near Jenkins and pointed his weapon to his head "Now I'll have to kill you".
"Dying" whined Jenkins "is an escape".
The sound of the gun firing filled the air and for Jenkins everything went black.
"Dying is no escape, you moron" said the man in the white suit "To jump is to escape". And he kicked the corpse into the abyss.


Beware of the mexican animator! (that's me, y'know?)

  • Member since: Aug. 18, 2007
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 06
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-07 10:26:36

Pelvic Beauty -- 1109 words

Every night I wake with beads of sweat drenching my body; I awake in fear, almost as if I'd been stabbed in the dark, yet once I open my eyes I see nothing but my soaked body and a stain on my sheets.

It's no laughing matter, believe you me. It all started about eight years ago. I'd been sailing with a crew of murderers and thieves, gamblers and crooks, harlots and dags. I didn't mind, for I was one of them. A pirate crew, hand-picked by a captain whose very lack of morals and compassion could put any villain to shame, no matter how horrid.

All had gone well, and so it had been for months. I killed many men. I had been seasoned and hardened in the ways of combat; a battle-loving, blood-driven criminal, remorseless, and for some time I'd lost feeling in a part of me that many hold all too dear. Our first job left me haunted; our second left me stunned; our third left me bewildered; our forth left me proud. I'd forgotten who I was, and all it took was one common act to bring me back.

A storm kicked up, with waves roaring like the Leviathan, skies louder than a whore, and a darkness too great for even my crew to see through. The rain came thick, almost as if god had made the sky the sea. One should think that on the brink of death we'd have changed our ways, yet blinded by greed and boredom we slaved on.

Our ship was tugged and pulled to a land unknown, yet the men worked steady and held her up 'till dawn. With no end in sight, like dogs we sailed. Through the night we manned the ship and kept her steady, until did rise the hopeful sun. Once risen, currents persisted and pulled us near an island far from familiar seas.

We set up camp on the floating land; pirate tents for the swabs, just enough to keep you alive during the night. The captain roared, "Alright ye lazy dags, a tale have we to tell. An island here, we did land; our ship, repairs, it needs." His words pierced right to the bone; a man hardy as could be. "Search the land, supplies ye shall bring. Food and wood and water, we need."

The crew split. Most wandered in groups, though I walked off on my own. I followed the sun as far as it would take me. I wasn't trying to find food nor anything to help my shipmates; I was looking for trouble. Six hours passed, six hours of gazing at the same trees over and over on a dull and god-forsaken plane, until the opposite end of the island was in sight, and upon its edge stood a large house. Stables for horses, rooms aplenty.

Worried at being caught, I prowled closer, eventually creeping behind a bush close to the stables, just in hearing range. I could see a farmer at a distance, moving hay off the back of a red trailer. The door to the main house was plain in his sight, though his back had been turned to me. Foolish as I was, I figured a house as big should be stacked to the hilt with ale, food and perhaps a wench.

Keeping my machete and pistol at the ready, I camped out for nearly an hour until I saw something which would've made everything that had passed before me worthwhile. The old man had been an ugly sight, and luckily he'd returned to the house, replaced by his daughter. Ah, what a view it was.

A gust of wind kicked up, sending her dress flying, revealing the legs of a model, though only for a second. Star-struck and tongue tied, I gazed as wind blew her hair into her face, obscuring it before settling back down, showing bright green eyes. In my dazed state, already lost by her intoxicating beauty, I further lost myself in those eyes; still, the memory is burned into my mind and locked away. The very thought of such a woman filled my heart with butterflies.

As I've previously mentioned, the feeling in the "part that many hold all too dear" had come back to me as I noticed a hard bulge in my pants. She was the epitome of beauty; for her to be stranded on such an island was such a waste, she'd be better a tool to gaze than hidden here.

I had to have her. To hell with the crew, the captain, the loot; her lips were too taunting. Timing was of the essence. I waited 'till nightfall before the farmer left the house, leaving it to just me and her. I managed to sneak in another look as she fed the horses outside. Taking a deep breath, my feet set into motion as I stealthily ran to her side. Pulling out the machete in my belt, I held her arms to her body, gently stroking steel against her elegant neck.

"Make no whisper, fair dame, or I'll feed your pets crimson." Without a flinch, she cranked her head back to meet my eyes. Fearless. Her body was relaxed, and in retrospect it was then that I should have set her free, and run back to the safe camp site. It'd be a long run home...

I turned her around, pinning her arms up against the stable wall, her looks driving me crazier than ever. I was obsessed. I kissed her chest, just above the breasts. Sweeter than any fruit, I continued in infatuation. She made few motions of protest; almost as though she was enjoying it. It hadn't been my first rape, and this seemed peculiar. However, with a clouded mind I continued foolishly.

What she did next was most shocking of all; she wrapped her arms around me and kissed back. In a dizzy I dropped my sword. She lifted her legs around my waste, still not saying a word. She grabbed my arm and lead me upstairs to her bedroom, looking at me with eyes full of mystery.

She shot me a gaze with those piercing green eyes as she slowly loosened the top of her dress, revealing breasts. I turned her around, gently kissing her neck. I slowly moved my hand down to her belly. Her skin was smooth; never had any of my rape victims been of this caliber. Far too good to be true.

I moved a bit lower, inching towards her panties, eventually lifting them up to put my hand on her pelvis. They say that when you near death your life flashes before your eyes; check.

It felt bigger than mine.

  • Member since: Jan. 15, 2009
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 12
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-07 20:51:28

Hell's Island.
Word count: 1,110

As Daniel woke up from his deep sleep, he couldn't help but to think something was wrong. He looked up & down the beach. At last, he found a girl. The girl looked about the same age as him,25, and was wearing a gown. "Obviously, the girl's from England, my home." He said to himself. He had been stranded here when a fake merchant promised him riches beyond belief. The man said he would take him there if he would give the merchant the deed to his house. As it turns up, he woke up only to find himself stranded here.

Daniel sighed. "Better get her back to camp. I know a storms gonna come." He said these words as dark clouds were approaching. He picked her up, finding that she was very light. As he carried her back to camp, Daniel noticed she was breathing. "Good." He thought. "She's still alive." As he approached camp, a light sprinkle of rain started to come down. He ran inside his hut, which he built out of bamboo that was on this island. Once he got inside, he lay her down on a bed, closed the bamboo windows, and shut the door. As he sat there and watched her, he just thought of something. "Why would it be raining now, in this season?" he said to himself.

An hour later, the storm had passed through. Just about when he was going to leave the hut, the girl started to wake up. "Ohhhh....what happened?" she said. "Who....who are you?" she pointed to Daniel. "My name is Daniel. I live on this island. You washed up onto shore." He said. "Wh....WHAT!? You sick pervert, get away from me!" she threw a punch at Daniel, which he easily dodged. "Would you listen to me? I'm not going to rape you or anything! I've been on this island for years! Do you really think that raping a girl would be the first thing on my list of priorities?" He yelled. She stared down at the ground, red-faced and embarrassed. "Sorry." She said. "Is there any way that I could help? I mean, you haven't been able to escape, so I might as well make myself at home!" She said. "Well, you can have this hut. I'll build another one.

As the day progressed, Daniel's hut was almost finished and Sara, the girl, proved to be helpful after all. Also, they got to know each other better. Daniel offered her a fish dinner later on. Sara, the polite girl she really is, said yes. Daniel then ran to the beach, jumped into the ocean, and went on to look for salmon. "I always keep my word, no matter what." He reminded himself. Waves started coming up more ferociously. However, he did manage to catch four salmon. He swam back to shore, ran into the forest, and went to camp only to find her knocked out.

"Sara!" he shouted. The bruise on her head showed she was knocked out with a weapon. "What could've done this?" he asked himself. "Hmmmm....I don't know Daniel." A voice said with a deep tone. The man then cackled. "Who....who are you?" Daniel asked. "Who is not the right word, my boy. What am I?" the thing said. "What did you do to her, you bastard!?" Daniel approached the figure, only to be knocked over by a gust of wind. "Tsk, tsk, tsk." The thing waved his finger in the air. "You should know your manners." "What are you?" Daniel asked. "My dear boy.....I am the devil himself! This is my island! Don't you know the name of this island?" The devil said. Daniel looked at him with a blank expression on his face. "This is hell's island!" the devil shouted.

As Daniel tried to get up, falling over himself each time, he couldn't help but stare at this figure. He finally got to his feet, picked up Sara, and ran into the forest. "My dear boy, I thought you would be smarter than that....get him, my minions! Don't let him or the girl escape!" Suddenly, five what looked to be mini-devils rose from the earth, carrying pitchforks and axes. The minions then chased after Daniel, running at speeds unimaginable.

Daniel arrived to the beach, preparing to fight. The mini-devils arrived, looking pissed. "Let's see if I still know how to do this." Daniel said to himself. One of the mini-devils jumped at him, but Daniel dodged it and kicked it across the head, knocking it out. "Ho! So the boy knows some martial arts, eh? Impressive." The devil's voice said. "Carry on." Another two charged at him, pitchforks forward. "Shit!" Daniel said. Daniel, amazing himself, jumped over the two devils and elbowed them in the back, also knocking them out. "Holy fuck.....when did I learn to do all this?" Daniel said to himself. "Psh." The devil said. The remaining two then ran around him fast enough to surrounds him in a dusty fog. Daniel covered his eyes and relied on his instincts to save him. The mini-devils then came at him from behind, wielding two axes. The one that got there first almost struck, but Daniel somehow manages to grab the axe's blade and throw it at the other devil, killing them both.

Daniel, exhausted, waited for the devil himself to arrive. Then a figure took shape not 6 feet away. " you managed to defeat my minions, eh? Well..." he then crushed two boulders behind him. "I AM NOT AS WEAK AS THEM!!!!!" The devil charged at Daniel, knocking him up in the air. Daniel manages to regain himself, ready to be struck again. The devil comes from behind Daniel in mid-air, almost penetrating, but Daniel manages to dodge it and punches him across the face, making him fall down to the ground. "Well, well, well....not bad for a novice. Looks like for once I will have to go full power." The devil said. The devil then attacked him as quick as lightning, forcing him off his feet.

Daniel recovered himself and kicked the devil in the ribs, making him come down to his knees. "Er....has the devil himself....become weak to a mortal being?" the devil said. Daniel then took an axe from one of the mini-devil's cold, dead body. He then walked over to the devil and said, "Believe it....bitch!" then he chopped his head off.

....then he awoke. On the island's coast, uninjured, and safe. " was all just a dream." Daniel said to himself. He looked around to see nothing, just himself. He smiled, but then a red figure appeared behind him, saying, "...or was it?"

Help the poor! Help the hungry in Africa!

BBS Signature
  • Member since: Sep. 2, 2008
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 31
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-08 01:58:44

Lord of the Flies: Continued
1,506 words

Sucks that I can't fit this into one post, but oh well.

What I've tried to do here is add a final chapter to William Golding's, Lord of the Flies that answers the question, "How does it end"? After civilized society breaks down, what happens next?


Ralph and Jack's feud had ended with the arrival of the navy officer who introduced himself as First officer Zerok Scarab. His presence had a strange way of bringing back the rules of society. However, the deaths of Piggy and Simon could not be reversed and their broken bodies could not be recovered. On the trim, Zerok kept asking for details of the two casualties, but Ralph refused to talk about it. He was distracted by a large wad of gum on his shoe. He found it funny that such a trivial thing could be so fascinating.

The small trim took about 5 minutes to take them all back to a small British carrier, where they were given food and a bed. The cruiser was on its way to Africa, but its propeller had been damaged beyond repair in a skirmish with the Japanese fleet. They were anchored until backup could arrive with a replacement. The boys learned that the island they were on was one of three small islands that had only recently been charted. Theirs had been the largest of the three, while the smallest was little more than jagged rocks. The islands lay a few hundred miles off the coast of West Africa where the sun was just hot enough to be uncomfortable for a Brit who wasn't used to warm weather, but not unbearable.

Jack and Ralph had been on the ship, living comfortably for a week and a half when just after breakfast, they heard the sirens ringing and the intercom blaring, "Japanese destroyer off the port stern! It's the FUNKbrs! We're in for a rough fight!" Zerok appeared out of nowhere and rushed them to the brig. He told them to wait there before slamming the door shut and ramming the bolt home. Soon, the sounds of war reached Jack and Ralph's ears. Men were screaming, shouting, and giving orders while gunfire raged all around them. It was the worst kind of hell imaginable.
Suddenly, a large explosion rocked the boat. Ralph covered his ears to drown out the sounds of men screaming in agony. This was war. Spears and knives and the conch didn't apply here. Only the bullets mattered. The door flew open, and Zerok, with a bloodied face, and holding gauze to the bloodied stump where his right hand used to be, yelled at them, "We've got to get out of here! The ship's going down. She's done for! Get to a trim!" He followed them into the boat, where the rest of the boys were already cowering. "Drop us!", he shouted over the roar and they dropped. It seemed like they were floating forever before they finally hit the water with a great splash, soaking all of them to the bone.

"Row", shouted the sailor to the boys at the oars, "row toward the islands!!" Ralph looked back and the horror of the scene before him was utterly unforgettable. There was a massive hole in the side of the ship that almost split it in two. There was no question that the ship would be lost. Ralph shuddered, thinking of all the brave Brits that had just lost their lives in the hell that was war. Suddenly, another explosion rocked the boat and sailors fell, some still screaming from their lost limbs and the brutal pain of the shrapnel that would end their lives. One of the sailors on deck started screaming and jumped into the water. Even Zerok was horrified at the sight of him. He had massive burns covering most of his body, his entire left arm was gone, and there was a large piece of metal protruding from his eye. Ralph leaned out over the side to give him a hand when a bullet from a Japanese plane struck his head, blowing the top of his skull completely off. He flashed back to the scene of Piggy, his brain matter splattering the coral, before his body was washed away. Ralph could just hear through the daze enough to hear Jack's sickening laugh.

He was snapped back to reality when one of the little 'uns was catapulted overboard by an explosion that struck the water near them before bullets riddled his small body. Zerok seemed unfazed by this horror and ordered everybody out of their shock. He screamed over and over again for them to continue rowing toward the islands. Then a plane came screaming in overhead. Ralph saw the red sun just before the plane opened fire, ripping the sailor's body apart, and killing several more of the little 'uns. Now the boat was only manned by five children and the shredded corpse of a sailor.

Ralph rowed with all of his might but it made little difference, because he and the other boys were still young and had not yet developed muscle mass. In a matter of minutes, his arms and chest were on fire, but he kept rowing. Soon it became all that there was. Keep your eyes on the island. Lift, move forward, row, lift, move forward, row. Those three actions became life for the boys that were left for what seemed like an eternity, until the gunfire stopped. The boys looked back for the first time to see the ship that had been their rescue obliterated by the Japanese navy. There was no way for anybody to have survived the carnage that they saw. They looked on in stunned silence for a while, and then Ralph remembered his status as chief. He took a deep breath, and in the most commanding voice he could muster up, he ordered the boys, "ROW!"

Some time the next day, Ralph woke up on shore, thoroughly exhausted and sore from the experiences of the day. He got up to go find something to eat and found a strange looking fruit. He picked and ate one, and decided it was good. So he spent the better part of an hour collecting more and placing them in a pile. There was a nice pool of fresh water about a mile down the beach that he drank from and bathed in. Then he set to work building himself a shelter. Ralph looked around and saw that the new island was good. It was similar to the previous island, but with a subtle difference. This time, there was no Piggy to give them logic and reason. This time, there was no conch to help maintain order. But most importantly, Jack and the rest of the boys were nowhere to be found...

  • Member since: Sep. 2, 2008
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 31
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-08 02:00:09

He started at this realization and began calling their names, searching through the forest. But try as he might, they were nowhere to be found. He thought back to the final hunt on the previous island and shuddered. Back among themselves, with no grownups to decide things, there were no rules. Suddenly, Ralph realized something. He ran back to the rowboat they used to escape the ship and looked inside. The dead bodies were still there, and Ralph stared. Zerok, the brave sailor that gave his life for them, was completely unrecognizable as a human. His hand was gone, his head was little more than a lump of pulverized, bloodied flesh, and his body was so riddled with bullets, that his chest was opened up, and what was left of his organs came spilling out, some liquefied, and some still intact. Ralph almost puked at the sight. He took a step back, gathered his thoughts, and looked back into the boat at Zerok. He almost vomited again at the stark and horrible realization that Zerok's combat knife and belt were missing.

Ralph felt a sinking sensation deep in his gut. Jack was ready to finish what he began on the first island. But this time, there would be no timely rescue. There would be no sudden influence to stop the madness. Ralph realized at that moment, that he was truly alone. There would be no escape. Jack would hunt him down like the pig and kill him. It was only a matter of time. Kill the pig. Bash her skull. Spill her blood.

Ralph walked back to his camp in a daze. It was near nightfall now, and the sky was beautifully filled with stars. He ate a fruit, looking up at them and contemplating everything that had happened. After a while he grew sleepy and began to nod off. But he was startled back awake by a rustle in the trees. He was about to write it off as a pig when he saw a dark shadow fall across him. He cringed inwardly as he heard the sickening and evil sound of a knife exiting its sheath. He took a deep breath and one last bite of his fruit. The trees stared silently as humanity's brutal nature finally conquered the last trace of society. Piggy, Simon, and Ralph watched from the skies as the island burned.

  • Member since: Dec. 31, 2002
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 31
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-08 17:22:27

The Island

It's funny really, how you never truly realize how much something matters until it's gone. The happiest moments of my life were on the island, Kaua%u02BBi. The first time I went to Kaua%u02BBi my mom and I spent hours on the beaches while my dad was busy, but we'd collect sea shells from the shore to make necklaces as souvenirs for our family back home. I still have one of the necklaces, it never leaves my neck,, it never leaves my neck. We go every year for as long as I can remember and it's such a warm and happy place.

The sand feels so good between my toes, the sun smiles down at me every morning, and the water crashes against the rocks singing to me as I wake. We always stay at the St.Regis resort in Princeville, it's beautiful there and dad loves the golfing. But while he golfed that gave mom and I time to explore and we'd always go all over. We'd see the Bell Stone, we'd see Allerton and McBryde gardens and she'd always tell me I'm the prettiest flower she had seen all day.

We hiked up the Sleeping Giant, it was so pretty and the view was amazing. Mommy had to stop for awhile, she tripped a little, I never got tired once. She's says I'm a big girl and that all my veggies are making me strong, I told her "mommy you need more veggies" and it made her laugh, I made her laugh. Daddy helped her up the rest of the way.

The sky is so clear, just like the water. I splash my feet in the water, mommy and daddy are talking and hugging. It makes me happy when they're happy, some times though mommy cries but she puts a smile on so fast and tells me "the eyes may rain but all storms clear up eventually". She's so smart.

She took me to Moir Gardens for the first time and it was completely free which was so cool. There was a man talking about the history of the gardens, he said it was by a lady who was married to a man who ran a sugar plantation and how it was one of the world's best cactus and succulent gardens. I always get scared of being pricked by a cactus, they're so weird. Mommy has to sit down again, daddy sits with her while I look at some of the plants. I can hear the ringing again, daddy answers his phone and walks off, which gives me time to talk to mommy. She tells me "you're my garden sweetie, like Mrs.Moir made her garden in to a beautiful thing, you'll grow in to a beautiful woman" and I know one day I'll be just like my mom.

It's cold today, and cloudy. My necklace feels lighter than usual. I can hear my daddy talking about going home soon, I don't want to, I want things to be like this forever. Just me and my mommy forever, in the sun and sand having fun. Grandma called today, she told me she'd be happy when I come back so she can see me again, grandpa sounds worried but he's always so silly. School has started and I'm still here on the island with my mommy, I never want to leave. My necklace feels so light.

Mommy doesn't talk much anymore, she keeps smiling though and I bask in the shine of her smile and the sun above. The sand is warm, not as warm as it was last month though. When I was sleeping last night I heard my daddy cry, he takes his golf too seriously, it's just a game. I mean when I lose in my games I get grumpy but I don't cry, because I'm a big girl. Sometimes daddy comes back and just hugs me so tight, he tells me I have to go home soon, that we all have to go home eventually. But I don't want to, it's warm on the island with mommy.

Today we went to Hanalei. I hold hands with mommy and daddy, it's so warm outside, but the wind is chilly. Did you know Hanalei is the town they used for Lilo & Stitch? My daddy told me so, he always knows this kinda stuff. When we get back to the hotel daddy brings me dinner in bed and sits on the edge with his hand on my shoulder, mommy is quiet, it's cold. Where's my necklace?

I never want to leave the island, it's so much fun. Daddy wants me to go home, he cries again. Mommy is so quiet, I never want to leave her side, her smile and smell. She smells like the ocean around the island, I never want to forget that smell. It's October, it's colder, I don't want to go home or to school but Daddy is crying more. I lay on the beach with mommy, her hand in mine, the sand has no warmth anymore and her either, I know now that I have to go home.

The next morning my daddy brings me breakfast in bed again, like he has for the past three months. His eyes are watery, I hug him and tell him "Daddy, I'm home" and he hugs me to tightly and cries. My mother stands at the doors of the room, the beach behind her, the warmth no longer there. My daddy needed me at home and I had to grow up and become the big girl my mother knew I'd grow in to. My mom, Alexandria Ellen Adair, passed away July 17th of Endometrial Cancer at the age of 33. She was a beautiful and radiant woman whose glow was as warm as the island. I'll always remember when she told me "all storms clear up eventually", because she was wrong, some storms stay with you forever because even on the island it rains sometimes.


BBS Signature
  • Member since: Jul. 16, 2004
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 10
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-10 11:13:28

Word Count: 1,110

Captain's Log - Entry 3200

This journey began with a lot of nervous researchers and very few military men. After an eternity flying through the vast emptiness of space, we have finally found a planet capable of supporting our race. This ship, that has been our home for these last weeks (Months? Years?), shall have to be our home for a little while longer. We have begun scanning for lifeforms and viable habitats. Early findings show nothing in the way of landmasses. This means we will have to expend valuable energy to reform the ship into an island capable of withstanding the unknown conditions of this planet.

Entry 3205

A momentous occasion occurred today: our first flyby. I took the liberty of sending out a small research team in one of our small transport crafts. This team descended to the planet, sending back data on surface conditions. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I believe we should make planetfall tomorrow. My first mate disagrees, stating that we don't know enough about weather conditions and there is still no conclusive evidence pertaining to lifeforms on the planet. I will take these considerations under advisement, but I still believe planetfall is the right choice. People are becoming restless after being stuck in this ship for so long. It will be good to feel sunlight on faces again and the wind rushing over the ground.

Entry 3208

After what seems like hours of flight time, we have finally landed. Our mobile habitat has come to rest in an astounding amount of water. Nothing is viewable in the horizon. Just water for what seems like forever. The reflection of the sun on the water makes the horizon seem white, that's how bright it is. We are now the only landmass on new planet and presumably the only lifeforms, since we picked up no signs of life during our initial scans. Shortly after landing, I began the transformation of our starship into a landmass ideal for this planet. We will begin contacting our home in the next few days, once we have determined everything is safe.

Entry 3215

A week has passed since we began this experiment. Our little island has been buffeted by waves and we've may have spotted hints of life. Large shadows passed over head and splashes were heard in the distance. My people are beginning to have serious doubts about landing here. Some have reported hearing voices, but it may just be a cry for attention. Everyone is so busy preparing for the initial report home that no one is sleeping much, in an attempt to finish their work. My first mate has even claimed to have spotted a large object in the distance. When I went to verify the sighting, the object has disappeared. Let's hope its just stress.

Entry 3218

Last night, torrential rains nearly destroyed our island. Between the waves and the weather, this may not have been the best location. I should have listened to the advice of my first mate (deceased) and performed more scans of this planet before we landed. During the storms last night, my first mate attempted to rescue some researchers performing tests just off shore. He bravely gave his life to save them. Without his sacrifice, some of our best scientists would have been lost. It may just be the effect of this tragedy, but I have started to see things that can't exist. I've begun to see the shadow he described so vividly to me. Each spotting seems to bring it closer, but that may just be a trick of the light.

Entry 3219

We have achieved contact with a native lifeform! This large creature showed up on our shores in the night. Its basic shape seems to suggest that this was the shadow both I and the first mate "hallucinated". Our inital observations have led us to the conclusion that this creature subsists solely on the water of this planet. It has been naturally curious about us and, although communication seems impossible, has allowed some of our people to climb on its back and go further away from the island, faster. With its help, we have found evidence of technology (primitive). A caricature of an ancient seafaring vessel was found just sitting in the middle of this never-ending ocean.

Entry 3230

Everyone is becoming a bit stir crazy. Our large friend (named "Nessie" by one of the more light-hearted biologists) has been very patient and helpful. She (it is assumed) has carried everyone part of this mission out to sea at least once. Unfortunately, this isn't enough. We've used these opportunities to observe the vessel we found, but no new information has been obtained. Tomorrow I will ask "Nessie" to take an observation party closer.

Entry 3234

After a few more days of observation, nothing seems to be happening in regards to the vessel. A strong wind picked up yesterday and that has pushed the vessel closer to home, which has angered some and pleased others. The explorers are angry because it means the don't get to travel as far each day, while those of us interested in studying the vessel are pleased that it is coming closer. If this keeps up, we will be able to guide it into our docks.

Entry 3280

This will be the last entry. The captain is dead. Most of the researchers are dead. Nessie has abandoned us. Our food and water supplies are very low. We don't even know if we have enough power to get off of this planet. This was a mistake; we never should have landed here. The vessel seemed abandoned, but when we pulled it into the dock, these creatures poured out of it and began slaughtering us. So many dead. How much longer until we can escape?


Time to get out of the bathtub, Michael; you'll get all pruny. Let's put away the bath toys. We'll just pick up the island playset with all of these toys on it. You take the pirate ship and the rubber ducky. Did you have fun playing?

Mommy, the little men were attacked by ghost pirates!!

Were they honey? Did they win?

No, they all died. But now they get to go home!

That's nice dear. Let's get you dried off. You can play with your toys later. We have to go meet your father for lunch.

I can't wait to tell him about my toys!!

Make sure you do, he'll like that. I'll get the picnic basket. You can carry the flowers for the grave.

Mommy, can I leave one of my toys for daddy?

Sure honey. Now let's go. Daddy's waiting for us.

  • Member since: Feb. 17, 2006
  • Offline.
Forum Stats
Level 09
Blank Slate
Response to Mwc9: June: Island Escape: Entries 2009-06-10 19:10:03

I'm walking down a rain slicked street barely illuminated by dying street lights. I see headlights brighten ahead of me. It's a black limousine, but accelerating much too quickly. My legs tense in preparation to run as it passes. An orange yellow bag flies out of the window as the car speeds by splashing me on the way. "At least it's not cold out" I mumbled to myself as I picked up the bag and continued to my apartment.
My name is James Sheppard. I'm about 6'0 tall, medium build and what they call a runner. We are a group of people mostly teenagers who deliver newspapers and other media to the people of America. The media is from outside the country. The world was supposedly destroyed in a nuclear fire fifty years ago, that's why it's so important that we spread the truth.
The new America is covered in a dome to protect from attacks. New York has about an eighth of the land mass and population now. That means we are always on the very edge of the dome. There is quite a bit of security around it as much to keep in as to keep out.
I flick on the light in my apartment and grab a slice of pizza off the table. I'm only 16 and I live away from home. My roommate and best friend, Marcus calls out from the living room. I walk in and throw the damp bag on the chair and take a seat beside Marcus. "Looks like tomorrow is going to be a busy day" Marcus says with a resigned few hours of television I pass out on the couch.
I wake up the next day and the morning passes like normal. At noon Marcus and I head out for a newsstand that sells our newspapers in the lock. Walking into the newsstand was like walking into a crypt, a dark foreboding silence pressed in from the walls like a smothering cloud. There was no bustle in the newsstand today. Something more sinister had taken its place.
"Some men came into today" said Paul with a worried look on his face. "They took your papers out and asked who you were." My eyes slanted downward at the official government approved newspapers. There was a smug smile on the face of our leader. "They roughed up John pretty bad and trashed a bit of the shop". His eyes were glassy and tears slid down his pudgy face and getting caught in his messy beard. I gave him the newspaper still silent. His hand collected them as if he was touching something unpleasant. As I walked out I muttered "they'll pay".
Marcus was waiting in the car when I came out, violently pulling the old sedan's door open, He didn't ask what happened. "We have to leave" I said. "Are you crazy? Nobody just takes a vacation out of the dome, you need a reason to go to the airport anyways, and they won't just let you leave" he said, too quickly for his breath to catch up. "I'm not talking about going to another dome" I said, on the verge of yelling. Marcus gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "Nobody has ever escaped from the dome" he said, through clenched teeth. "We know there are other places out there for us to go to. America can't be the only surviving country"."How do you even expect us to leave?" He asked angrily. "The Spire" I exclaimed quietly.
The Spire was the tallest building in the dome, almost touching the exit hole for planes and helicopters. It was also the government headquarters for the entire eastern seaboard.
"You're insane" said Marcus with a smile. He had realized suddenly that I could not be persuaded out of it, and that I had a plan. "How will we do it?" he asked. "We walk in the front door. Ride the elevator to the top and take a helicopter". "The helicopters are through the barracks. Are we going to fight through them with our hands?" I stopped for a moment, pondering that last sentence. "Yes, yes we will". Marcus shook his head and repeated the statement about my mental health.
That night, after an entire day of preparations, we walked through the front doors of the metal-and-glass monolith of the Spire.
A single receptionist was sitting behind a sleek, steel desk, "Business hours are almost over, do try and be quick" she said in a monotone voice as we entered the elevator and hit floor fifty-one. We were silent with nervous anticipation of the coming moments. Marcus was in visible disbelief.
The elevator stopped and we walked out, trying to look at least semi-important. In our grubby street clothes, it was difficult to pull off. We walked down a hallway with bright, unnatural light bathing sleek, grey floors and tinted-glass offices. There was no sound besides our footfalls, echoing down the empty hall. We approached a heavy, grey door. Painted on it in black letters was one word-Barracks. "Ready, Marcus?" I asked nervously. Before he could answer I kicked the door down.
As the initial adrenaline rush from smashing the door reached its peak, a single guard entered the foyer we had kicked an unlocked door into. Marcus and I ran at him, still excited. I clothes lined him as we ran by. We flew through the open door behind him and into the main hallway. There was the noise and feel of many people living here. There was also the sound of many firearms being readied. "The car" I mumbled.
The car, of course. We discussed our secret plan in the car of a suspected runner without fear. Big mistake. There was no way it hadn't been wired. This would explain the readiness of the hundred-plus people inside the barracks.
Glass windows exploded around us in a shower of bullets as we bolted as fast as we could to the end of the hall. Until a door on the other side burst open and two armed men walked through. The only thing that saved us was Marcus' clumsiness. As he slid to stop and turn, he fell sideways, knocked me into a hallway and open door I didn't know existed. As I hit the floor I quickly scrambled to close and lock the door.
I looked around quickly for some way to get us out, looking around I noticed the room was for a janitor. I also noticed our chance to escape.
The guards outside the door scattered as a ride-on floor-waxer raced over a second smash door into the hall and raced at a desperate speed to the roof, smashing that door as well. There was only one helicopter. I climbed in and flicked switches. Luckily we took off flying towards the exit. We almost made it if it weren't for an involuntary jerk as I saw another helicopter behind.
The rotor blades snapped and slammed into the edges of the hole. We spun around just barely in open air. Luckily, we both bailed at the same time. Unluckily, Marcus' side was above the open ground, clear of the domes outside wall. "No!" I cried as his final, desperate tumble escaped from my vision. I hit the ground after sliding down the dome for nearly an hour. At the bottom were two photos, obviously left for me. One was of our president, the other of the still living Chinese president. They were extremely alike, except for slightly skewed features. I looked around, almost refusing to believe the proof. I saw nothing, just a barren desert of deserted, burnt buildings and scorched trees. It was then I realized. There was no outside of the dome. Nothing but us. I had left that behind. It has only ever been us.
I guess its still on an island, although they are more trapped by the dome than the island

You should PM me! My Userpage has Boobs on it
Proletarii vsekh stran, soyedinyaytes'!)

BBS Signature