The tide had begun to come in and as I stepped off the bottom step, my foot was encircled by chilly ocean surf that was left over from the receding sea. I ran across the beach, taking large strides as to cover more ground. The second tide came in as I reached the mouth of the cove and I managed to slip into the cove before it soaked my trousers. I didn't particularly like the cove, I hated spiders, and outdoor enclosed spaces always made me feel as if I were surrounded by spiders that were lying in wait to drop onto me at any moment. I shivered at the thought and quickly clambered onto a larger boulder, behind which, was a tunnel that eventually led to the underground entrance of the Island.
Hidden in plain sight, the tunnel was rarely explored by humans, it was too dark, too cold and too impractical, despite this, some young people had managed to spread their graffiti almost half way down the tunnel, which was an achievement since the tunnels were patrolled by our guards who took their job very seriously. The only other people who had made it that far into the tunnel called themselves 'Urban Explorers' and begged to see more, but the guards simply told them the rehearsed lie: that this was private property, and they were doing some structural recovery work and that it was unsafe for anyone unauthorised to be down there.
I reached the tunnel's half way point and could sense the guards' presence. They could sense me, too because I could feel them getting closer to me. When I saw their figures in the darkness I smiled and waved slightly, and they relaxed a little. "How's the building work going?" I asked with a wink and the decidedly unamused guard grumbled in response. I smiled at my own sense of humour and continued on down the tunnel. After another four full minutes of walking-which is seemingly a long time when in a long, dark, cold tunnel that runs in a straight line-I saw the dim glow of the Island interior. Stationed at the door were two static guards who paid me little attention as I wondered past.
The Island had been my home for many years, yet I still often got lost inside its labyrinthine walls. The Island was a maze of corridors, and using the underground entrance meant that you began on the ground floor, so I had to make my way up to my room without getting lost. This was relatively easy for me as I knew the way to my room, but that was all I knew. In fact, the only directions I knew for sure despite living here for the best part of seven years were: the way from the underground entrance to the dining room and my room, and from my room to: the games room, the dining room, the main hall, the medi centre and the planning rooms, as well as the secret alchemy labs. Over six hundred others lived here despite there being over one thousand bedrooms, almost all of whom were male adults.
My room was on the sixth floor, above ground level. When I had arrived at the Island I had been given the whole of the sixth floor west wing to myself, I was the first member of a section that no one had ever intended to exist: the woman's wing. My segregation meant that I had a quarter of the floor to myself, my room was the largest on that floor and had a bathroom attached to it.
I reached my door, it was situated at a larger distance from the others and had an oak frame, carved and then painted with liquid gold. The door itself was a slightly redder wood than the other doors and the door handle was supposedly made out of lion's claws, glued so that they met in the middle. The room was vast, like a small cavern. My large bed sat at the back of the room opposite the door with long, large curtains pulled round three sides of it. A curved desk ran around the wall starting from the side of the window and ending just by the door. The other portion of the wall that side of the room, up to my bed was a large book shelf that held more books than the public library. To the opposite side of the room was my favourite item-my weapons rack and just beside that, leaning up against my bedpost was my sheath, inside which, lay my most prized possession-a hand crafted sword, made for me as a birthday gift by a young man I once knew.
Next to this, was the door to my bathroom, equally as elaborate as my front door, and beside that were a series of tapestries and crests representing the royal clans that had ruled over our world since the 1500s. The residents of the Island, and the residents of the similar colonies around the world collectively called themselves Cerberi. They are people, whom throughout history have been labelled witches, vampires, warlocks, demons and all kinds of creatures. However, some of these Cerberi have apparently lived over a hundred years but appear not much older than middle aged. The legendary explanation is that in the 1400s a group of alchemists, all of whom had been condemned as evil and had spent their lives in hiding from the hunters, the Venators, a group that made it their life's mission to hunt the condemned and slaughter them in the name of their Lord.
These alchemists eventually settled in a cavern that could only be accessed from the side of a cliff. Here, they spent the remainder of their days trying to perfect a substance that would allow them eternal life and incredible power that would allow them to overcome their oppressors.
It is at this point that the tale begins to divide the modern Cerberi. Some believe that once they had created this elixir, they attempted to replace the eldest alchemist's blood with it, causing the alchemist to die. Others believe that thsey succeeded and that he still lives on to this day. Whichever version you wish to believe, the ultimate conclusion is that this elixir, when injected into the human bloodstream can grant longevity and strength.
I honestly laughed at it when I first heard and had been severely reprimanded, but despite this, seven years ago I was injected with this substance, said to be made to the same recipe as the original alchemists had used and since then I have been stronger, more powerful and sharper than ever before. Due to ancient belief that the other alchemists used the eldest one's substance-infused blood to give themselves the elixir, some Cerberi believe that for tradition's sake for the initiation to be fully complete, blood must be transferred between the eldest living Cerberi and the newest one. However, in the interests of modern medicine and understanding of disease transmission, this is no longer practised unless specifically requested by the new member.
Not anyone can become a member though, and becoming a member has huge impact on a life. Not only is the Cerberi lifestyle a male-dominated culture of pride, power, ferocity and tradition, but it also separates one from the outside world. Other colonies do not take the lifestyle as seriously as the English do, but the Island was the original residence of the first established Cerberi colony and therefore must uphold the original values. That said, we do have a very controversial up-to-date medical facility set in the old trial halls which is run by non-initiated Cerberi, who are really just humans who admire the lifestyle and wish to live with us and serve our colony but are not allowed to be, or can't commit to, being initiated.
The laws on initiation are very strict and I only escaped the filter through what was a complete accident. Usually, humans aren't allowed near the Cerberi and some treat them like scum and refuse to be treated by them, they're often the older, more proud traditionalists who believe that none but male Cerberi warriors who have taken the blood initiation ritual and proven themselves in combat may be admitted. Almost all of these traditionalists reject to having a female member and despite the fact that I am one of them, often try to force me out. I have been challenged by them, ambushed, one even attempted to kill me to prove that I was not worthy of calling myself a Cerberi. Fortunately, I have many friends on this Island, without whom I would not still be alive.
