Thursday, September 27, 2012

Terror Island






Beads of perspiration dampen my hair as I stare at the end of the dock and that solitary box.  Drawing sweaty hands against my blue jeans, I glance again at my watch before slowly taking a step toward it.  The message said be at the wharf at exactly nine o’clock and I can’t take any chances.  No explanation, no signature, but I know it can only be the work of the Sandaks.

Lawless heathens they might be, but they live by the code of  the island and they will never abandon me to this retched place without something to guide me.  I know they have long gone, but I look around anyway as I make my way to the end of the dock and kneel in front of the box.

There is no lock and the sound of the creaking lid echoes into the night.  Shining my light inside I can see only four objects lying there.  Picking up the compass, I run my bloody fingertips across it’s surface before tucking it into my pocket and reaching for the rolled map lying next to the revolver.  I will have to wait until dawn to try to find a way out of this place, but until then I shove the paper into my back pocket and hesitantly pick up the gun.

Cold and heavy in my hands, I open the revolver’s chamber and I’m not surprised to find it empty. Choking back the bile rising in my throat, I reach for the last item in the box.  Even now I can still find the sick humor in my situation as my fingers close around the single bullet lying in the bottom of the box.  Somewhere in the fog I’m sure they are watching me.  Just waiting and wondering what I will do now.  Do I take my chances with this lone bullet and pray I make it to safety before I am trapped by the beast?  Or do I simply stop the terror now and use it on myself?  I wonder if the Sandaks are hunched around their fires right now and placing bets on the odds of my surviving the night on this island. 

I don’t blame them.  Even I wouldn’t bet on me…



8 comments:

  1. this was really well done. I'm not quite sure what it's for--like, is it part of your book or a flash fiction piece? But I liked it. I could feel the darkness, smell the wharf, see the box with it's creepy assortment of items. VERY visual piece. Great job!

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    1. Hi Tamara! These pieces are flash fiction that will remain as is or maybe eventually become a short story. They might also be called picture prompt exercises because I create them in about 30 minutes after seeing a random picture on the internet. They are purely entertainment for anyone who wishes to read them...;~)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  2. I don't have enough to worry about, now I have to worry whether the Sandaks will get you? Thanks a lot. Really, thanks for the story? the flash? the picture prompt? whatever it was.

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    1. Lol, Janet...I try to keep you on the edge of your seat...;~)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  3. LOL... I laughed at Janet's comment. wow! very descriptive, I love that. Very spooky! Tell me, why the bloodied finger tips? By the last line, is she giving up already? I hope not. This is brilliant!

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  4. Hi Diane! The main character was taken to the island by the Sandaks and now they watch to see if the beast will win. I'm not sure if my main character is male or female at this point, but they fought their way through the jungle to the wharf (hence the bloody fingers) and now must stay alive at least until the morning so they have a chance to get to safety. The main character isn't giving up...they just realize the odds are against them and they wouldn't bet on their chances either...;~)

    Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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    1. Hi Erik! Lol, I'm sorry but right now this is all there is...hopefully more later...;~)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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