Stranding

8 | Echoes of Fear

The air was thick, suffocating. Every breath Jake took felt like it was fighting against the island itself. The forest had become a maze, winding paths that led nowhere, circling back in on themselves. His mind raced, unable to hold on to a single coherent thought. Every time he blinked, the shadows shifted, growing taller, darker, watching him.

The echo of Mia's voice still rang in his ears.

Jake stumbled through the underbrush, his legs heavy, his thoughts fragmented. He couldn't shake the image of Mia collapsing in his arms, her body lifeless, cold. The island had twisted her into something else—something that had never been her at all.

Was she really dead? Had she ever been alive? Was this all a game the island was playing with him?

His pulse pounded in his temples. He couldn't trust his own mind anymore. Not here.

The island was playing with him.

***

Somewhere ahead, the forest opened up. Jake emerged into a clearing, his breath catching in his throat at the sight before him.

A village.

Or what was left of it.

Small, dilapidated huts were scattered across the clearing, their roofs caved in, and walls overgrown with vines. The ground was littered with debris—broken pottery, rusted metal, remnants of a life long forgotten. The village was old, abandoned, swallowed by the island's relentless growth. But it was clear this place had been inhabited once.

Jake's heart quickened as he approached the nearest hut. He had to find shelter. He needed somewhere to think—to rest. His mind was unravelling, and he knew it. The island was winning.

He stepped inside, the air musty and stale. The walls were thick with moss, the floor covered in dirt and fallen leaves. It felt wrong to be here, as if he were trespassing on sacred ground. But he couldn't turn back. There was nowhere else to go.

Jake collapsed against the wall, his body trembling. His head fell into his hands, and for the first time since the crash, he let himself feel the fear. The tears came unbidden, hot and bitter, spilling down his face as he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

He wasn't a survivor. He was prey.

***

Minutes passed, maybe hours, Jake didn't know. The world outside had fallen into an oppressive silence, thick and unnatural. There were no birds, no rustling leaves. Just the dull hum of the island's pulse, ever-present, filling his mind like a persistent drone.

And then, faintly, he heard something else.

Footsteps.

Jake's head snapped up. His heart thudded in his chest. The footsteps were soft, slow, deliberate—someone approaching the hut.

He held his breath, his body tensing, every muscle coiled, ready to run. But his feet were frozen in place.

The steps stopped just outside the entrance.

For a moment, everything was silent again.

And then, a shadow appeared in the doorway.

Jake's breath caught in his throat as the figure stepped into the dim light. His heart nearly stopped.

It was Raj.

But something was wrong. Very wrong.

Raj's eyes were vacant, his expression blank. He moved stiffly, as if his limbs were being controlled by an invisible force, his body dragging forward like a puppet on strings. His clothes were torn and dirty, his face pale and gaunt. But it was his eyes that terrified Jake the most. They were glassy, hollow, as though his soul had been ripped from his body.

Jake scrambled back, his voice trembling. "Raj? What—what happened to you?"

Raj didn't answer. He took another step forward, his movements jerky and unnatural, his head tilting slightly to the side.

"Raj...?" Jake's voice broke, his chest tightening with panic.

But Raj was silent, his eyes locked on Jake with a dead, unblinking stare.

Jake's heart pounded in his chest. This wasn't the same Raj. The island had taken him, twisted him into something else—something wrong. Something inhuman.

"Raj, please..." Jake whispered, backing away, his hands shaking. "Don't do this..."

And then, without warning, Raj lunged.

Jake barely had time to react. He threw himself to the side, just as Raj's outstretched arms missed him by inches. Raj slammed into the wall, his body moving with unnatural speed and strength, as though driven by something far more powerful than his human form.

Jake's mind raced. He had to get out of here. Now.

Without thinking, he bolted for the door, his heart pounding in his ears. But as he reached the threshold, he stopped.

Standing in the doorway, blocking his escape, was Mia.

Her eyes were wide and empty, just like Raj's, her face pale and expressionless. She stood there, unmoving, as if she had been waiting for him. Waiting to trap him.

Jake's breath caught in his throat. "Mia...?"

She said nothing.

Behind him, Raj staggered to his feet, his movements slow and jerky, his breathing heavy and erratic.

Jake was trapped.

His mind spun, his chest tightening with panic. He couldn't fight them. He couldn't run.

And then, the whispers returned.

They were louder now, clearer. Voices overlapping, echoing through his mind.

"It's all in your head..."

"You're not real..."

"The island has you..."

Jake clutched his head, his vision blurring. The voices were everywhere, inside him, around him, pulling him apart piece by piece. The island was toying with him, bending reality, warping everything he thought he knew.

Mia stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes locked on Jake's. Raj was behind her, his breathing ragged, his fingers twitching as if waiting for a command.

Jake's world spun. He didn't know what was real anymore. The island was inside his mind, twisting his memories, twisting his friends, turning everything against him.

"Stop... please..." Jake whispered, his voice weak.

But the island didn't stop. The pulse grew louder, deafening, pounding in his skull like a war drum.

He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe.

The last thing Jake saw before the world went black was Mia's cold, lifeless eyes staring down at him.

---

The Curator's voice creeps through the silence, his words laced with dark amusement.

"And there it is. You thought you could outrun it, didn't you, Jake? You thought you could escape the island's grip. But this is not a place you can simply leave behind. No, no... the island is a part of you now. It's in your mind, in your bones. You can fight it, resist it, deny it... but the truth remains.

You are not a survivor. You are a prisoner.

And the island... well, it never loses."