Descending

Prologue

Prologue

The rhythm of the boat had become his heartbeat. Without it, He would be lost. Yet, He was already far gone, days in and out merging. His old life: his name, his family, his hobbies; all that was, a lost memory, tossed into the unforgiving, salty waves . . . nothing could be better.

The horizon had become a painted aura around himself, unchanged in its actions. Day and night had become one; however, throughout that, the hunger pangs were an irritation that was constantly growing, along with a thirst that was unforgivable.

Upon those first, salty few sips, the fears and all that came with it, slowly disappeared. This, of course, was caused by drinking the saltwater, teasing him alongside his boat always. Even so, He knew the consequences and didn't care. 

"All this will be worth it," He would tell himself repeatedly, rocking back and forth on the boarded floor of his small boat, the sails flapping in the wind forevermore . . . .

                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hours sitting and rocking in place on the splintered boards seemed like only seconds passing . . . then the stirrings started again, breaking into reality once more. The pangs of fear and hunger, all to real, once again. His thirst for the waves was the answer to end the pain, but his fighting conscience awoke once again.

He became aware for the first time in weeks, telling himself, screaming at himself, "Stay away from the water, don't drink it again . . . no matter the need to, the want to . . ."

There was a brief moment of hesitation, his conscience continuously echoing inside him not to drink the saltwater, reminding him it would kill him in the end . . . that it was not what He came here to do . . . He can't die here . . . but maybe it would be better to anyway.

This was when He lost it, screaming pure agony and terror over his inner demons taking over his will, their tendrils latching on. He had lost it, He was crazy, there was no turning back now . . . this is how you die.

As if his body was truly being controlled by his inner demons, He willfully stood up to scoop another sip of the deadly water . . . although there was no water below him, but sand.

A brief moment is all it took for his brain to connect where He was, where He finally was, "All this was worth it! I told you it would be!" he exclaimed, raising his voice to the open air.

The Island, however, was silent, nothing to be heard, and this was when He knew something was watching him. A low, constant growl followed his thoughts, the crunching of bushes solidifying what he unfortunately knew was coming. He watched as a creature exited the untamed forest onto the sand and stood yards away from his boat, staring at him, it's glaring eyes flaming.

He ran inside to the boat's only lower deck, reaching for his rifle, dropping it as He heard the loud thump of the creature coming for him.

He screamed as it dashed into the cabin, throwing itself onto him, the gun skidding across the floor. The creature prepped to end his depressing, insane, lack of a life.

It went in for the kill as He grabbed the rifle, hitting the murderous beast upside the head, making it whiny in pain. He then turned off the safety and fired a round into the beast, pelting its brains all over the cabin.

The beast tumbled into a bleeding heap, soon to be a prize He would mount up later. He got up, shaking beyond control, and went to the boat deck. He began yelling again in a victory scream, gun in hand, being waved all over the place.

He leaped off of the boat and began his trek into the unforgiving wilderness, slashing anything in his way with the bayonet He had just attached to his rifle. He would find water and food, no way allowing himself to die now that He was so close.

Nothing could kill him now that He was here, to what he came all this way for.

"All of this is worth it, nothing will put an end to that! I will find what I came here for. Damned to whatever gets in my way!"