Tatum Gibson and Ian Shimura find themselves to be the only survivors of an airplane crash, leaving them stranded on a strange, deserted island. With her secretive past, and his desperate need to return home, their relationship is strained, but they...
She decided that she should have thought things out better than she did. She only realized her mistakes too late, when there was nothing she could do but ride out the consequences. The mysteries of the island were endless, and the answers seemed to be just as frightening as the enigmas.
Tatum remained on the porch, holding the lantern up and out, the flickering amber light reaching the creature, casting him in a sepia hue. She'd meant to ask him what he needed from her. How she could help, but the minute her gaze met the dark holes were there should be eyes, her throat tightened, fear fisting her larynx, rendering her mute.
It was bone and cartilage, not wood which covered his head, as she'd speculated once. But it wasn't a mask, either. It was his actual bone, chiseled with strange, yet familiar symbols, and stamped in char, as if burned at one point, long ago. His skull was bulbous around the crown and ghostly white, as if bleached by time and weather. Where his face should be, was a misshapen snout, as if a hand grabbed him by the nostrils and pulled, stretching out his nose and mouth until they bound together, coming to a dreaded point. Due to the deformities of his face, his mouth wasn't visible, not even a breathing hole to explain the noises he created in the dead of night.
How was he wailing, and crying without a mouth? Where did the sounds come from?
As if sensing her question, he release a shrill moan, the cry vibrating through her bones, manipulating her heartbeat as a base drum might. And she knew, his thoughts and emotions somehow radiated through the air in the form of cries. His very feelings, generated soundwaves, and they were just as loud, and captivating as any vocal cord might create.
The realization was shocking, even though she knew this crazy understanding came from her original. One of the very few answers she was able to convey.
This mangled creature, was obviously a man once upon a time, but now all that remained was a broken being, cursed to live eternally as some forgotten wraith. Within the anomaly seemed to dwell a consciousness, imbibed with memories which seemed to torture him until madness overtook him.
And refused to let him go. Let him die, or exist in peace.
Her heart wept for the creature, wishing there was something she could do to release him from his torment. But it seemed he would forever reside between life and death, while dreading both, and hungering for either, all the while hating every bit of his existence. And although she stood boldly before him, wielding the lantern, he seemed to not register her appearance. He cried then, his wail much sharper, more frightening now that walls no longer separated her from him, and she shuddered. Was he so far gone that he would hurt her? The courtyard no longer felt safe and just as she was about to turn to rush back into the cabin, the creature stiffened, clawing at the air while seemingly fixated on something behind her.
Hesitantly, she looked over her shoulder, startled to find Ian standing in the doorway, donning jeans only. His eyes were frantic as he glanced from her to the creature. Then the world seemed to still.
The pitiful beast gasped, wheezing as if struggling for air, as Ian froze, and a strange connection formed between them. Tatum glanced from the creature to the man, and she shook her head in clear confusion. What was this?
The creature's shoulders shook as low sobs escaped him, and shuddering breaths consumed him while he suddenly reached his quivering, bony fingers out towards Ian, as far as possible without passing the boundaries provided to protect the cabin.
"Fa-th-er..." he rasped. Ian flinched as if struck, stumbling back but unable to look away from the shrouded, boney beast.
"Plea-se, fa-th-er. Pah-lease! H-help m-me! I a-am s-sorry. Pah-lease!"
The more the creature begged, the louder it became, and Ian gripped the doorframe as if fearing that if he released the hard wood, he might collapse. His eyes reflected the amber light, turning the onyx color gold, and he shouted, as if enraged.
"I'm not your father! Go away! I'm not him!"
But the creature's desperation could not be quelled, and his pleas, spoken in a ragged voice just grew louder, more incessant, until finally Ian covered his ears, either from the pain of the swine-like pitch, or out of the need to deny his connection to the beast. With gritted teeth he flung himself back into the cabin, while demanding Tatum get inside.
"Don't be a fool, Tatum! Get inside! Can't you see he is trying to get through the shielding?"
She looked between them in nervous consideration, and having no other choice, followed Ian behind the safety of the walls. He lay on the floor, shaking, muttering a litany of tongue twisters, and she quickly shut the door before racing to Ian's side. The moment her fingers touched the hot bare flesh of his shoulder, he jerked away, his wild eyes rolling around the room in search of danger, and as if not seeing her, he half- stumbled, half-crawled to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
And throughout the night, that is where he remained, his back against the bathroom door, chanting his quotes through broken whispers while the creature, screamed and shrieked out his misery from the wall beyond.
Tatum wondered about all of it for the beast didn't so much as acknowledge her presence when she went out there. But Ian?
He called Ian 'father.'
Which led her to wonder. If Ian was the father, who in the hell was the mother?
(What would you do if you were in Ian's position? Or if you were in Tatum's? Let me know in the comments!)
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