Shadows Of The Forgotten Island

Sali's Home (Ep-03)

Sali, carrying the baby in his arms, emerged from the wreckage of the plane, drenched in sweat and still in shock from the events he had just experienced. A deep fear gnawed at his heart, but he knew he had to push it aside and act quickly. In one hand, he held the baby, and in the other, a heavy bag filled with supplies he had scavenged from the wreckage. Each step was taken with careful precision, his mind echoing with instructions. His plan was clear:

First, find a stream; water was essential for survival.Second, locate a safe area; he had to protect himself from the wild creatures that were the source of those terrifying sounds.Lastly, find food; both he and the baby needed sustenance to survive.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, he reached a dense forested area. The heavy, humid air was thick with the scent of earth and decaying leaves. Thin beams of sunlight filtered through the tall trees, creating a labyrinthine effect that made progress difficult. As he moved through the forest, his eyes caught something up ahead. Among the trees, he spotted what looked like several pieces of fabric resembling tents. A glimmer of hope sparked within him; seeing signs of human presence in this desolation gave him a brief sense of security. He quickened his pace, his heart pounding with anticipation as he approached the tents. But this joy quickly turned into deep concern. The campsite seemed abandoned; there was not a single person in sight, only silence and the heavy marks of the past.

Sali's heart began to race, his unease growing with each passing moment. The desolation around him only deepened his anxiety. He carefully examined his surroundings; there were footprints on the ground, old rags hanging from tree branches, and weathered tents that had been there for years. The tents were covered in mold from the dampness, evidence of the passage of time. At that moment, something inside one of the tents caught his eye, piquing his curiosity. It was an old manual. He opened it with trembling hands and checked the production date: "04/02/1956." This date sent a chill down his spine. "Have these tents been here for more than half a century?" he thought. At that moment, he realized the place he was in held deep mysteries. His eyes wandered to a pot over a campfire in the campsite. The remnants of food were still inside the pot; strangely, the food appeared fresh, which only puzzled him more. Sali whispered to the baby in his arms: "Everything is so confusing, buddy. I hope this doesn't bother you." His voice, however, was far from reassuring, even to himself.

In desperation, he moved to another tent. Inside, he found an old sleeping bag and a worn-out camping mat. He added these to the supplies he had gathered. He emptied and cleaned the pot, then dismantled one of the tents to take with him. But the unease within him continued to grow. When he looked around one last time, he noticed a strange mark on a wall. Curiosity drew him closer, and upon closer inspection, he saw that the marks were made with blood and formed three deep scratches. The marks appeared as if a massive claw had gouged them into the tree bark. As he examined them more closely, his breath caught in his throat. The blood and claw marks were fresh, still wet. As he stumbled back, his foot caught on a branch, and he fell to the ground.

When Sali finally regained his senses, he frantically searched for the baby, but he couldn't see him. A deep fear gripped his heart; he quickly stood up and began searching for the baby. The air had grown dark, and a thick mist had settled in the forest. His vision was blurred, but he was determined; he had to find the baby. His mind was filled with dark thoughts. After some time, he came upon a massive tree. The tree was enormous, its branches nearly covering the sky. The trunk of the tree was so thick that it could have housed an entire cabin. The rustling sound coming from the tree turned into a low hum, as if a deep voice from within was warning him not to approach. The tree seemed almost unnatural. Its leaves resembled those of a sycamore, but a red liquid seeped from each branch, dripping down from beneath the leaves. Driven by curiosity, Sali approached and sniffed the liquid; it had a sharp, metallic smell, like iron. The scent made his stomach churn; he suspected it might be poisonous and refrained from tasting it.