Stranding

11 | Echoes of the Past

Raj stood at the edge of the cave's mouth, staring into the gaping darkness that stretched before him like the open jaws of some primordial beast. The cold wind bit at his skin, but he didn't move. He couldn't. It was as if the island itself had taken hold of him, pulling him toward the cave's shadowy interior.

He was alone now.

He'd wandered for what felt like days, the island's unyielding grip tightening with every step. The others were scattered, lost in their own spiralling nightmares. Naomi was gone. Jake was missing. And Sarah—he couldn't even think about Sarah without feeling the knot of guilt tightening in his chest.

It was his fault they'd crashed here. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He was the one who had planned the trip. He'd convinced them all that this would be a great adventure, a chance to explore, to bond, to escape the monotony of university life. But now, all he wanted was to escape this island—this nightmare that was quickly consuming him.

The whispers had started not long after they'd split up. Faint at first, like a distant breeze rustling through the leaves. But they'd grown louder, more insistent, the closer he got to the cave. They were calling him now, drawing him in with promises of answers. Of truth.

Raj took a deep breath and stepped into the cave.

***

The air inside was colder, the darkness thick and oppressive. Raj flicked on his flashlight, the narrow beam of light cutting through the gloom. The walls of the cave were rough and uneven, the ground beneath his feet slick with moisture. Every sound—the drip of water, the shuffle of his footsteps—echoed back at him, amplifying the silence.

The whispers, though, had stopped.

Raj kept moving, his flashlight sweeping across the walls, casting long shadows that danced and twisted at the edge of his vision. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything. The island, the crash, the strange, supernatural occurrences—it all felt like a puzzle, but the pieces weren't fitting together. Not yet.

He paused, his flashlight catching on something carved into the stone wall.

Symbols.

Strange, ancient markings etched deep into the rock, their meaning lost to time. Raj stepped closer, his fingers brushing against the cold stone as he studied the symbols. They were intricate, almost hypnotic, spiralling outward in a pattern that made his head spin.

"What the hell...?"

His voice echoed through the cave, swallowed by the darkness. He traced the symbols with his fingers, his mind racing. They felt familiar, like something he'd seen before. But where?

And then it hit him.

The book.

Raj's heart skipped a beat as the memory came flooding back. He'd seen symbols like this before—during one of his research projects at the university. The anthropology department had a collection of ancient texts and artefacts from forgotten civilizations, relics that spoke of gods and demons, of worlds beyond their own.

One of the books had mentioned an island—a place where reality and time blurred, where the dead walked among the living, and the past bled into the present. The island had a name, but it was lost to him now, buried beneath layers of fear and confusion.

But these symbols—they were the same.

Raj's pulse quickened as he took out his phone, snapping pictures of the carvings. He didn't know what they meant yet, but he was sure they held the key to understanding the island. There had to be a way out of this, some clue hidden in the past that would help them survive.

As he turned to leave, the ground beneath him shifted.

A low rumble echoed through the cave, the walls trembling as dust and small rocks rained down from the ceiling. Raj froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The rumbling grew louder, more violent, the ground buckling beneath his feet.

And then, the floor gave way.

Raj fell, the flashlight slipping from his hand as the darkness swallowed him whole.

***

When he hit the ground, the impact knocked the wind from his lungs. For a moment, he just lay there, gasping for breath, his body aching from the fall. The flashlight was gone, lost somewhere in the darkness.

Slowly, painfully, Raj pushed himself to his feet, his hands scraping against the rough stone floor. The air down here was colder, thicker, the smell of damp earth and rot filling his nostrils. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the dim light from the screen barely illuminating his surroundings.

He was in a chamber of some kind, the walls smooth and curved, unlike the rough stone of the cave above. Strange, he thought. This place didn't seem natural. It felt... constructed. Like someone had built it, long ago, for reasons he couldn't begin to understand.

Raj took a shaky step forward, his phone's light guiding the way. The chamber was empty, save for the faint outlines of more symbols etched into the walls. But these were different from the ones he'd seen above—larger, more intricate, their spirals twisting and turning in ways that made his head spin.

And then, at the far end of the chamber, he saw it.

A door.

It was carved into the stone, its surface smooth and dark, unlike anything Raj had ever seen before. There were no handles, no hinges—just a single, circular symbol at its centre. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, the light flickering in and out of existence.

Raj's breath caught in his throat. His fingers itched to reach out and touch it, to see if it would open. But something held him back—an overwhelming sense of dread that clawed at his chest, warning him not to go any further.

But then, the whispers returned.

Soft at first, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. But they grew louder, more insistent, wrapping around him like tendrils of fog. They were coming from the door.

Raj's hand trembled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against the cold, smooth surface of the door.

Suddenly, a jolt of energy shot through his body, knocking him back. The whispers grew louder, their voices swirling around him, filling his head with incomprehensible words. He clutched his head, the pain unbearable, his vision blurring as the world tilted around him.

And then, as quickly as it had started, the whispers stopped.

Raj blinked, his heart racing, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He stumbled back to his feet, his body trembling. The door was still there, but now it felt... different. The symbol at its centre had stopped pulsing. The whispers were gone.

But the sense of dread remained.

Raj turned to leave, his steps unsteady, his mind spinning with questions. What was this place? What was behind that door? And why did the island want him to find it?

As he made his way back through the chamber, a single thought echoed in his mind.

We were never meant to leave this island.

---

The Curator's voice slithers in, his tone dripping with amusement.

"Ah, Raj, you've stumbled upon something far older than you realize. An ancient truth, buried deep within the heart of the island. But do you truly believe you've found the answers you seek? Or have you simply uncovered another layer of the island's cruel game?

There are doors that should never be opened, paths that should never be walked. But curiosity, oh, it's such a powerful thing, isn't it? It blinds us to the dangers that lurk in the shadows, pushes us toward the edge, until we're too far gone to turn back.

And now, Raj, you stand at the threshold of something far more terrifying than you can imagine. The island has its secrets... and it's only a matter of time before they come for you."