Stranding

6 | Beneath the Veil

Jake moved mechanically, his body on autopilot as he navigated through the dense underbrush of the forest. His mind raced, replaying the events of the last few hours in a loop that he couldn't shut off. Mia's voice still echoed in his ears, twisted and warped, calling from beneath the earth. And Raj—where the hell was Raj?

He had shouted until his throat was raw, searching the trees, but Raj had disappeared into the shadows without a trace.

Now, Jake walked alone, the weight of the island pressing down on him like a physical force. Each step felt heavy, as though the ground itself was resisting him. The forest around him was deathly quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves far too close to his ears.

The island was waiting for him to crack.

He felt it in his bones, in the way the shadows moved just out of sight, in the way the trees seemed to breathe around him. Everything about this place was alive—alive and watching, anticipating his next move. But Jake wasn't going to give in. Not yet.

He needed to find Raj. He needed answers. And most of all, he needed to find a way off this cursed island.

But the further he walked, the deeper he seemed to sink into the island's grasp. The trees around him felt closer now, their branches twisted into unnatural shapes that blocked out the light. The ground was damp beneath his feet, soft and unsteady, as though the earth itself was shifting beneath him.

Jake's thoughts drifted to Mia again, to the way her scream had been cut short by the island swallowing her whole. The image of her terrified face, just before she disappeared, flashed in his mind like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

He didn't even know if she was alive. The island had erased her—just like it had erased Sarah.

His grip tightened around the branch he had been using as a walking stick, knuckles white with frustration. He had to keep moving. He couldn't let the island win. Not yet.

Suddenly, Jake stopped in his tracks.

A sound—a low, rhythmic thudding—pulsed through the air, reverberating through his chest. It was faint at first, but it grew louder with each passing second. The sound wasn't coming from the forest. It was coming from below.

His heart raced as he crouched down, pressing his ear to the ground.

The thudding was steady, like a heartbeat, deep and slow, vibrating through the earth.

Jake's breath caught in his throat. The island was alive. He had felt its pulse before, but now he could hear it—loud, undeniable. It was as though the very core of the island was beating beneath him, calling to him.

He stood up quickly, backing away from the spot where he had been crouched. His mind spun with questions, but none of the answers made sense. What the hell was this place? And what did it want from him?

The thudding continued, steady and rhythmic, as Jake turned and continued through the forest, his pace quickening. He needed to find Raj. He needed to regroup, to figure out a plan. There had to be a way off this island. There had to be.

***

As the hours dragged on, Jake's sense of time began to blur. The island had no sense of day or night—only a constant, oppressive twilight that stretched endlessly overhead. The air was thick with humidity, clinging to his skin and making each breath feel heavy.

The forest stretched on in every direction, an endless labyrinth of twisted trees and shifting shadows. Every now and then, Jake thought he heard voices—faint whispers carried on the wind—but when he turned, there was nothing. Only the trees. Only the shadows.

And then, he saw it.

Up ahead, through the trees, there was a clearing. The dense foliage parted just enough for him to see a faint glimmer of light. His heart leapt in his chest as he hurried forward, desperate for any sign of life.

As Jake stumbled into the clearing, his breath caught in his throat.

In the centre of the open space stood a stone structure—ancient and crumbling, covered in vines and moss. It looked like an altar, similar to the one they had encountered earlier, but much larger. Symbols were etched into the stone, glowing faintly in the dim light.

But that wasn't what made Jake's blood run cold.

Standing before the altar was Raj.

He was facing the stone, his back to Jake, standing unnaturally still. His arms hung limply at his sides, his head tilted slightly as if he was listening to something only he could hear.

"Raj?" Jake's voice was hesitant, uncertain.

Raj didn't move. He stood there, frozen, as though he hadn't heard Jake at all.

Jake took a step closer, his heart pounding. "Raj, can you hear me?"

Still nothing.

Jake's mind raced. Something was wrong. The air in the clearing felt thick, heavy with tension, as though the very atmosphere was pressing down on him. The island's pulse was louder now, beating in sync with his own heartbeat.

"Raj!" Jake's voice was louder now, more insistent.

This time, Raj stirred. Slowly, almost mechanically, he turned his head to look at Jake. His eyes were blank, unfocused, staring through Jake rather than at him.

A chill ran down Jake's spine. "Raj? What the hell are you doing?"

Raj blinked, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were waking from a deep sleep. When he spoke, his voice was low and distant, as though it were coming from somewhere far away.

"I can hear it," Raj said, his gaze drifting back to the altar. "The island. It's speaking to me."

Jake's stomach twisted. "Raj, you need to snap out of it. We have to get out of here."

But Raj shook his head slowly, a faint smile creeping across his face. "No, Jake. We don't need to leave. This is where we belong."

The words sent a jolt of fear through Jake. He took a step forward, reaching for Raj's arm. "This isn't you talking. It's the island. You have to fight it."

Raj's expression didn't change. He stood there, staring at the altar, his voice soft and detached. "The island doesn't want to hurt us, Jake. It's trying to help. It's showing us the truth."

Jake's grip tightened on Raj's arm. "What truth?"

Raj's eyes flicked to Jake's, his smile widening. "That there's no escape. We're part of the island now. We always were."

Before Jake could respond, the ground beneath them rumbled, the pulse of the island growing louder. The symbols on the altar flared brightly, casting an eerie glow over the clearing.

Raj's eyes widened, his expression serene. "Do you feel it, Jake? It's coming."

Jake's heart raced. "What's coming?"

Raj's smile was eerie, unsettling. "The island. It's waking up."

---

The Curator's voice drips with amusement, a dark undercurrent of satisfaction in his tone.

"Ah, and so we see the island's true nature reveal itself, don't we? It's never just about survival, dear Jake. It's about transformation. The island doesn't take—it gives. It gives purpose, gives meaning. And those who listen, who understand the island's whispers, well... they're never really lost, are they?

But you, Jake. Oh, you're different. You still fight. You still believe there's a way out. How quaint. How utterly naïve.

But the island doesn't forget. And it doesn't let go."