A group of unsuspecting teens arrive to the set of a reality game show... a deserted island far from any continent. What could go wrong? They're kids after all. Told from every perspective, the dead, the alive, and the hunted. No being is expected t...
"Celebrity Chris McLean recently bought his own island!"
"What do you think he's gonna do with it?"
"It must have been millions!"
"It's tucked away from everything..."
"Another reality show?"
"I'm sure it's just a ploy for more money!"
"Chris would never! Have you even met him?"
"Have you?"
"Here he is now..."
I rubbed my eyes.
The forest was pitch black. Even the faded lights from the cabins wouldn't allow me to see what was in front of my face. My eyes were struggling to adjust... I tried to flick on my lighter in my pocket, but it wasn't there. Nor was my wallet...
I heard a whisper...
I turned around and reached out, only to be met with the cold breeze passing my arm. I heard the whisper again... a mumble.
"Hello?"
The mumbling continued... I doubt it responded to me.
"... my arm."
"Your arm?" I whispered back. I turned around, starting to walk backwards. I extended an arm behind me in case I ran into something.
"Find my arm."
"Why would I...?"
"Find my arm, Chris." The mumbling was now coherent, but not any louder than before.
"Where is it?"
"Find my-" the phrase was interrupted when I slammed up against a tree. I felt my head fall back into a hole, the smell of flesh filling my senses. I quickly recovered, now able to make out blobs in the world. I reached in without a second thought, and there it was. An arm.
"Find my leg." It spoke as the moon shone brighter. The arm was veiny... it was cut off just above the elbow, and it was clear that whatever did it couldn't do it in a single cut. Dried blood decorated the skin, trailing down like sweat on one's forehead. "Find my leg."
Suddenly... I was in chefs kitchen... a place I vowed I'd never step into unless I had to. I couldn't remember walking here...
"Find my leg." I could hear ticking now... like a clock. I looked over at the clock over the oven. It ticked backwards... 30 seconds until midnight. "Find my leg."
"Why should I-"
"Find my leg." The clock now said 24 seconds until midnight.
23 seconds.
22 seconds.
21 seconds.
"Find my leg."
I started looking. I opened the oven door.
20 seconds.
I opened the freezer.
18 seconds.
I opened a cabinet...
16 seconds.
And another... and another...
14 seconds.
12 seconds.
10 seconds.
As I opened the last cabinet door, I was met with that awful stench again, now amplified. His leg, missing a foot, cut from the knee, fell out. It had been stuffed inside, now marks complimented where the shelves pressed against the skin.
"Find my head."
I was in the cabins.
"Look dude, I can't keep-"
"Find my head." I sighed at this. I was getting bored. The moon's light shone through the windows, allowing me to get a good look at the sleeping campers. Geoff, Duncan, DJ...
The smell.
I bent down, following the now even stronger scent. A shadowed head laid under the bed. I grabbed onto its hair and lifted it to eye level.
The stench was foul, blood continued to drip from where the neck should be. Not drip... flow. It didn't stop.
It was Ezekiel's head.
"Chris McLean!"
"Jesus, Chef!" I sat straight up, my breathing rapid.
It was just a dream.
"That party kid says he found something you might wanna see."
"Can't you see I'm busy trying to get my beauty sleep for the cameras?" I batted my eyes, earning an eye roll from my co-star.
"It's serious Chris!"
"Fine whatever." I stood up and stretched a bit, allowing the nightmare to pass my memory. Still in my pajamas, I followed Chef outside of the temporary employee trailer... A.K.A, MY trailer. I was surprised to see Geoff, DJ, and Duncan huddled outside of the door. "Clear out campers... the next challenge is a toughy, so I suggest you-"
"Look dude, I know this is your job or whatever," Duncan rolled his eyes, "but I don't think you can continue your show."
"And why is that?" I finally got a good look at the group. Geoff and DJ looked terrified... this early in the morning? Come on, I didn't realize we got a bunch of chickens for this show.
"Ezekiel, he's-" Geoff started, but was quickly interrupted by Duncan throwing something at me. Thankfully, I have reflexes from all those sports movies I starred in, but once I got a look at what landed in my hands I froze.
"When did you-?" I stared at Ezekiel's disembodied head. It looked identical to my dream... it somehow smelt worse than it too.
"We found it this morning." Duncan's dull voice refused to read the gravity of the situation... I could get sued for this! "So are we packing up or...?"
"Let me get back to you on that." I gave my winning smile before tossing the head back to Duncan and stepping inside of my trailer. "Chef, pack up we're leaving."
"Should I tell the kids?"
"No time dude, get what you can, we're leaving."
"But we can't just-"
"They signed up to be on a deserted island for 8 weeks, so they're staying on a deserted island for 8 weeks. It's in the contract! Now get packing."
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