The Island of The Cursed

Chapter 1: The Arrival

I opened my eyes to a sky of blue hues and white cotton ball fluffs. It was a serene picture, something straight from a photographer's album of sample photos or an artist's abstract painting, but somehow I felt like something was wrong. I wriggled my feet, just to make sure I was alive, and then I tried my hand at getting up to scan my surroundings. Despite my arm strength (which I was known for which somehow I remembered), I flopped back onto the ground. White dust clouds billowed around me in a collective gasp as I realized that I was lying on sand. I craned my neck up to get a better view of the land surrounding me, but then I was greeted with a surprise face. "Gah!" I shouted, as I came face to face with a guy who probably came straight from the dumpster. He had bushy auburn eyebrows, a wrinkled face, tattered and stained clothes and probably the biggest mole I've seen in my life. He raised an eyebrow at me, obviously not shocked by my reaction. He eyed me closely, a little too closely for me, but he kept on staring at me. I was now on my elbows, hoping that this time my arms wouldn't flake out on me as this dude was creepy and I feared for my sanitation. "Oh don't be surprised, kiddo. Someday you might look like this!" He said, pointing towards his not well kept body. I made a note to eat healthy and exercise, when suddenly I remembered what had happened to me. Damn you, Everett. I thought, finally remembering the little bastard and his crap job at doing his job. 

However I didn't have time to dwell, as more un-kept grumpy men and women made their way towards me. Some had scars, some were missing limbs and some looked like their life sources had been purged out of them. Their eyes, lost, as if looking for something they knew they would never find. But most importantly, they all had weapons on them. From nun chucks to swords, they had every mean they could possibly have to maybe inflict harm on me. "Welcome to the pack, new friend." The first one said. He chuckled a bit, and then, with surprising strength, lifted me up in the air with one hand. "We're going to have quite a lot of fun together, aren't we, boys?" He said in a low, auspicious voice. He clearly had some kind of plans for me and my future torture. The men in the crowd whooped and cheered or paddled along while the women grumbled at the clear fact that they weren't included in the fun. I struggled with myself, my shirt slowly slipping off. I grabbed his hand with mine and tried to squeeze, claw, anything, but this guy seemed to be taking all of my attacks with ease. He laughed some more, urging the crowd to, begrudgingly, do the same. Obviously this guy held some position of leadership among them, but I was too scared to ask any questions specifically, fearing whatever might happen to me.

Suddenly, a new voice came from the crowd. "STOP!" The female voice boomed. How a female could have such a projection and man-like shouting, I didn't know, but instantly the man holding me dropped me on the floor after hearing that voice. I groaned in pain as i sat up, my muscles working fine now. I looked up to see who the voice was coming from, when I saw the entire crowd parting for this new person. She had bright red hair, not natural at all, but still striking and fierce or whatever. She had a staff embedded with seaweed, coral and various tiny skulls, which should have scared me, but oddly with my life you find that girls with skulls weren't your biggest fear. She was slim and wore, actually quite little.

Hm. Well.

She must have seen my ogling (which I wasn't, ha, obviously.) so she pointed her staff at me. One thing I failed to notice was that it wasn't a staff, but a spear. Great. "Who are you and for what customs have you been sent here?" She asked, fiercely. Her lime eyes pierced through me, challenging me to speak. I cleared my throat a bit, somehow I feared making a bad impression more than I did the pointy spear two millimeters away from my face. "My name is Blad-," I hesitated, not wanting to give away my real name just in case, "Blade. The new generation of light sent me here because my friend and I stole the jewel of Platone." I said, trying to ignore the spear. A collective gasp from the audience followed, and the women raised her eyebrow (which, strangely, was also red). "And what of your friend?" She asked me in a more regal or diplomatic voice, moving the spear point down to my chest, poking it slightly and resting the tip there. Okay, okay, seems like I'm going to die anyway. But then I realized, my friend, he wasn't here. I looked around, sweat coming off of my face out of nervousness, but all I saw was the ocean to my left and a jungle to my right. Where was Devin?

"I um, I don't know." I said. Another collective gasp from the crowd. The girl's face scrunched up. Clearly they didn't like this answer. "If you really stole the jewel of Platone with this friend," she said, oddly calm and almost normal looking, slowly inching the spear away from my chest, "then why is he not here?" She asked, walking away, eyeing her spear as she did. She twirled it in her hand, taunting me, almost. A moment passed, until she got, um, impatient. "WELL!?" She shouted, pouncing at me, taking my dagger from my side, locking me down in a hold with one hand and holding my dagger over my neck with the other. My heart thumped in fear. I tried to move, but she had a strong grip. She jutted it closer to me, leaning in and staring straight into my eyes, as if she was trying to access my soul. "Do you want to die at the hand of your own blade, Blade?" She asked in a low tone, taunting me. I craned my neck to the side so I wouldn't have to look her in the eye. Somehow she thought her little pun was funny. Wow. "No." I answered, not trusting myself to speak more. "Then ANSWER ME!" She yelled. "I DON'T KNOW!" I yelled back, scrunching my face up, ready for her attack. The suspense filled seconds passed, but she still didn't do anything. Instead, she snarled at me, getting up and releasing me from her hold. I stared as she walked away, grumbling something and shouting orders at the others. "Prepare him a place at our hideout. Polish and hand him back his dagger, etc, etc." She handed my dagger to some guy who must have been a blacksmith and then strolled off, twenty other people treading behind her. I tried to get up and protest, but then the guy at the start came in my way. "Woe, now kiddo. You should be grateful that you're still alive." He remarked, and left, disappearing into a cloud of smoke. I coughed a bit, but then I started to regain my ability to think straight. I wondered what this meant. What was happening. One moment, Everette the jerk wad "force of all good" the light was blasting me and Devin, the next I wake up on an island with people who looked like they came fresh from the doors of hell and no Devin. There was some legend about this, I knew there was. Something about criminals ending up on an island, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Aggghh. 

As I was pondering this new turn of events, two new guys came up to me, swords hanging lazily off their belts. Unlike the others, these two looked pretty clean. One had sandy blond hair and a mean looking scar across his nose and the other had curly chocolate locks, seemingly fine scar or other body harm wise, but he had a cold look in his eye, as if he was prepared to chop someone's head off - considering that was very possible since they were the size of elephants. "Come with us. We're the customary new-comer tour guides." The first one said, his blonde hair flopping in his face. It reminded me a lot of Devin and his bed head bad boy look. I myself didn't like to have hair in my face all the time, and he would tease me by messing it up, calling me "daddy's pet". Devin and I go way back. We had known each other since we were in preschool. We were practically inseparable. We committed crimes together!

Where was he?