The Prison (Book 1)

Island

Island

I awoke from a deep slumber to a sound that I hadn't heard for a very, very long time: the sound of the ocean, of gentle waves drifting onto the beach. My eyes fluttered open and I immediately screwed them shut again when blinding light nearly seared my eyeballs off. I threw a hand over my eyes to shield them and carefully opened them as I sat up straight.

I was in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. A fan hovered over my head, spinning lazily. Hesitant, I slid off the wooden bed and stumbled on shaking feet to the sliding door. I opened it and stepped outside onto a wooden deck overlooking the ocean.

I blinked, confused, at the unexpected vista. Sparkling blue stretched all the way to the horizon; it was all I could see. Palm trees danced seductively on the empty golden beach as a tropical breeze tickled and played with them. One such cool breeze hit me, refreshing and invigorating. Gone was the chilly winter air of New York, replaced by... the Caribbean's summer breeze?

"What the...?"

My memories returned to me all at once, nearly knocking me off my feet. I groaned, staggered and clutched my head as a sudden, massive headache threatened to split my skull wide open. Suddenly, the sound of the waves was too much to bear; it felt like ocean's waves were bashing directly against my temple.

Images flashed in my head. A dark warehouse. A helicopter. Schneizel, hurt, bleeding.

Evil cerulean eyes.

The blood drained from my face.

"Where am I?" I asked out loud, immediately starting to panic.

"You're on my private island."

My heart plummeted and a chill skittered down my spine at the mere sound of his hard voice. Painstakingly slowly, I turned around, my heart lodged in my throat.

"You..." I breathed out once I saw the face of the man who'd shot Schneizel and kidnapped me on a helicopter from the warehouse I was held captive in.

Cain.

He certainly wasn't dressed for the beach. He wore a white, long-sleeve shirt that was open at the collar and a pair of black pants. I, on the other hand, was. I had a t-shirt and some beach shorts on. The thought that he might have dressed me was too upsetting for me to dwell on at the moment.

"Yes, me," he smiled. The only way to describe the smile he gave me was that it was ambiguous. I couldn't tell if there was animosity or a taunt or even pleasure behind it. Mysterious.

"Why have you brought me here?" I demanded angrily, inching away from him until my butt hit the porch's wooden rail.

Something in his eyes told me that I was not going to like whatever his answer was. I wasn't under any delusions; I knew that I was severely overwhelmed. This was a man I had no hope going up against, let alone defeating. This was no ordinary man. If I had to compare him to someone, then -as much as I hated admitting it- he seemed to resemble Schneizel, which made him all the more terrifying. My only viable option was to run.

So I did just that. Without looking back once, I jumped the rail and dropped a couple of meters onto the warm sand and started running like a bat out of hell.

I never looked back once, but I knew that he did not follow.

****

As I ran, I stepped on a jagged rock that cut the sole of my feet and I fell to the ground, nearly hitting my head on another jagged rock and splitting it open. Hissing in pain, I sat up straight and examined my injured foot. Blood seeped profusely from the dirty, deep wound that was the length of my pinkie and at least an inch deep. It would be in my best interests to get the cut cleaned and bandaged posthaste.

"Fucking Hell." I moaned as I felt the sharp pain of the injury shoot up my leg like a lightning bolt. This was so not the time nor the place! Desperate, I looked around me for salvation. Somehow, I'd made my way from the beach into a jungle that was thick with foliage. I was surrounded by all manner of tropical trees and lush undergrowth. I hadn't come across a single person so far, for which I was both grateful for and anxious about. By now, I was almost certain that this really was a private island, and that there were no inhabitants other than him and me -and possibly some of his men.

A crow landed on a tree not too far away from me. On closer inspection, I saw that it was in fact not a crow, but a parrot. A black-colored, red-beaked parrot. It eyed me curiously with its beady eyes, blinking at me a few times before flying away and disappearing into the trees. If I weren't running for my dear life from a possible madman, I would have enjoyed my trek through the jungle. I now had to find my way out of it before I encountered any tropical beasts, and while I was at it, I had to find a way out of this island.

Speaking of beasts, where was the beast who'd brought me here? I wasn't sure whether to take not seeing any sign of him as a good thing or a bad thing. I was under no illusions that he'd suddenly decided to let me go. A man who'd kidnap and fly me to a remote island to have revenge on Schneizel was not a man who easily gave up on his prey or his plans for that matter. He had to be on my trail. Was he somehow watching my pathetic self-fumbling about like a headless doll?

Warily, I looked around for a pair of cerulean eyes peering at me from behind a tree.

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