Blood In The Water | Pillarmen x Fem!Reader

1 | Uncharted

God, how she hated sand. 

It was up her collar, down in her shoes, dancing in those horribly hot camo pants the marine corps forced her to wear, scathing her ankle and making her wince. Yeah, she fucking hated sand.

It was a pain to get out, too, always a grain or two left behind to create hell. As much as she hated to admit it, she supposed she was somewhat like sand, in that sense.

With her entire marine unit gone, she's now that single grain, ready to start chaos.

It was hard to not look back at the mess of the wreck, flames roaring along the ocean as debris floated lazily in the waves, some even allowing seagulls to sit upon them and rest. Bodies bubbled up onto the surface, their flesh being picked away by desperate fish of every sort as the water around them turned dark.

Yes, it was hard to not look indeed, but for a battle scarred soldier like (Y/n), she finds that she's had to do this one too many times.

Hoping to occupy her mind with something else, she decided to focus on the real problem at hand... Where the fuck is she.

This semi-large island is floating in the middle of fucking nowhere, and last she checked, the captain said they would check in with headquarters once they reached their checkpoint... Which, if she guessing this correctly, is hundreds of miles away.

"How the hell would I even get there.." Her mumbles were drunken up by eager flowers, listening to her woes and what-nots as she hunted fish in a little pond. 

What she should be more concerned about, is how she'll even live long enough to start planning her escape. All that's on her person is a rucksack with a little food and sleeping bag, a gun hanging off of either shoulder, and a waist decorated with knives. As far as (Y/n) knows, that will only last for a week at best. 

Weapons like those aren't worth much on an uninhabited island such as this, unless there's some serious game, or an enemy. The most she'll probably ever have to use is her bowie knife, which, after hunting for a bit, had quite a few fish skewered on it.

It was nearing nightfall, so these fish that had no place to hide in time will have to do for now in terms of food.

A quick fire was made on the golden beach, where chilled wind whipped at her open wounds and stung all the cuts and tears along her body. You'd think she may want to patch herself while her food cooks above the kindled sticks burning with life, but surprise! She only had a few bandages in her bag, and the medical wrap was already being used on her forearm, where the remnants of the plane she once flew in so leisurely had pierced it.

Christ, this sucks ass. There's really no easier way to put it.

Stuck alone in the middle of whatever damn ocean this is, barely any supplies, no guaranteed survival... Put simply: She's fucked.

Mindful of her aching body, (Y/n) plucked the heated knife from the patch of fire and began to gnaw at the fish, staring at the warm glow of a sun dipping into the horizon. As beautiful as it was supposed to have been, all it told her was that shit was gonna get cold real fast.

Grumbling to herself, the remnants of the poor fish she practically licked clean was tossed to the side, its skeleton slowly dragged back to whence it came by the waves crawling along the shore. 

The sleeping bag didn't do much in terms of warmth, but at the very least, it kept out some of the cold-- but not the crab that decided to sneak in (that was promptly crushed like a balloon between her hands as a result).

Sleep didn't come easy, as one might've guessed, since deciding to curl up on the sand is never a thought that someone would have when thinking about comfort and warmth. Now, consider the thick jungle someone might've taken a liking to instead. Who knows what sort of jaguar-infestation she would've walked into if she didn't take the time to think about it? What about all the mosquitos? The snakes? The tarantulas?

Yeah, setting up camp on the beach wasn't too bad of an idea after all.

Light snores echoed along the beach, and if one were to check, someone might've thought she was dead by how still she layed. Out cold, (Y/n) gave herself the luxury of at least getting a few hours of sleep before having to wake and start seriously thinking about a plan, though before those few hours came and went, a pair of footsteps marched through the woods, and the eyes of a hunter peeked through the flora. 

It was a curious gaze, but no less hostile. "What's that?"

"I'm unsure." Someone of similar tone joined the man that broke through the shrubs in the ground, following him onto the painfully sandy beach and pacing around (Y/n) with interest, like a lion toying with its food.

The first to have spoken donned fiery hair that draped onto his broad shoulders, the mark of a gear inked beneath his sharp eye as it scanned not only the snoozing marine, but the mess of weapons, fish bones and charred sticks around her.

The second, who had joined the observation a bit late, was of similar muscular build as the first, blonde hair tied beneath a white rag, held in place by a strange head piece that whipped around with each bit of movement.

"It's a human. How did one end up here?" The first murmured, crouching down in front of her still face. 

"I'm sure we won't find out until we ask it," the other replied, gesturing behind himself, "I believe we should go grab Esidesi before we do anything; he'll know what to do with it."

And so, those two hurried off to find this 'Esidesi' character, and though they returned not even a minute later, it was revealed that (Y/n) was no longer there, her sleeping bag barren, and no tracks left behind.

There was no where to trace her to, not a single bit of evidence that could've pointed the islanders into the direction of their discovery.

"I don't doubt that there was someone here, it's obvious by what they left behind." Esidesi, a dark-skinned man with the purest of white hair, hummed as he walked over to the scene. "But where could they have gone, and how did you let them flee so easily with so little time?"

His estranged, pierced face crinkled with disappointment and confusion as he eyed the surrounding area, scanning every indent of the sand, and every scattered leaf. Nothing.

It was definitely out of the ordinary, but then again, the fact that there was other life on this island aside from him and his brothers was surprising enough.

"Honestly, where could they have-"

The sound of a gun cocking behind them sent the few into shock.

Already on high alert, the group of islanders snapped around to face the source, finding exactly who they were looking for; perched on top of a thick branch on the edge of the forest, a gun in either hand with a threatening look on her face.

"I'll give you ten seconds to start running."

Yeah, living on this island would... definitely be interesting.