The doctor walked in to the room. He was a man proud of his achievements, one of them being his beard. He was not, however, proud of his bald head. As he walked into the padded room, he cleaned his glasses with a soft cloth.

“Mr. Calvin, I am Dr. Stevens.” The doctor said to the man in the straightjacket. Mr. Calvin stared at the floor. The doctor adjusted his glasses as he put them onto his face. “It says in the report you turned up at a port in Boston, raving about some danger until you assaulted a soldier.”

Mr. Calvin continued to stare at the floor. The doctor sighed. He approached Mr. Calvin.

“It says the ship came from Africa, and that you were on an assignment for the British government.” The doctor said, standing over Mr. Calvin. The man in the straightjacket still didn’t react. The doctor wondered if the man had blinked yet. The doctor crouched in front of Mr. Calvin. He lowered himself to meet the gaze of Mr. Calvin.

“Mr. Calvin, what happened to your team? What happened in Africa?” Mr. Calvin’s eyes suddenly flicked to the doctors. The was a creak of a man who hadn’t spoken for a month.

“The.. board.” Mr. Calvin slowly croaked.

“The board?”

Mr. Calvin nodded his head, his eyes gaining an awareness, filling with fear.

“Tell me about the board Mr. Calvin.” Mr. Calvin’s face stared at the doctor in horror. His mouth stood agape, not sure what to say. He had gained the courage to read his friends’ journals, but to actually speak of the horror was something Mr. Calvin was not prepared for. He looked at the doctor as he tried to piece together the events in his mind, adding his old friends’ points of view to his own. But where to start?

3 months before

“Is anybody wondering what happened to the first village?” George, the youngest, asked, now sharpening his large knife.

“What do you mean?” Skripes asked, stepping back from his new fire. The warmth was welcoming in the cold, humid jungle morning.

“It was abandoned.” George replied.

“And George? What is your point?” Reggie asked as he shaved with his polished straight razor.

“Yeah there are many abandoned villages. It is reported very commonly.” Thomas said through his cigarette. He offered one to Calvin, but Calvin declined.

“Well, it seemed a little odd. There was a crop that was perfect for harvest, and then there was the baby.”

Everybody stopped what they were doing. They all looked at George.

“You all are thinking what I am. That baby was a few days dead. Who leaves a baby behind?” George asked, moving his eye contact from Reggie, to Calvin, to Thomas. Slowly the men returned to what they were doing.

“They’re savages George. Who knows why they do anything.” Calvin said calmly. He set his journal down next to him and warmed himself with the flame.

The five men travelled along the route defined by their map. They passed through another village, well known among British explorers as a safe town to renew supplies. The group discovered the small town was abandoned as well, with animals feasting on the food that was left behind. The next day, they continued on their route and came upon the third town, tired of listening to Skripes horrible jokes. The town though, like the others, was completely empty, save for the items the residents had left behind. A storm had started, and the men decided to stay inside a large hovel to avoid the rain. It was uncomfortable, though not because of the small space. The torrent of rain was relentless, as was the thunder. No one slept.

“Hey. You all awake?” Skripes whispered as loudly as he could with all the rain.

“Skripes, if you tell that damn dog joke again, I will personally end you.” Reggie said with the tone of a tired old friend.

“Reginald, how dare you. that is my greatest joke!” Skripes feigned a hurt look on his face.

“It’s your only joke.” George said, laughing to himself.

All the men chuckled except for Skripes.

“I have other jokes! Like the blind man and the rent boy!” All the men groaned at the memory of the laughably bad joke.

“I got one!” George said, excitedly sitting up. “So there’s this priest…” A long moment passed by and the men looked towards George.

“Well George, spit it out.” Calvin said to him. George was unmoving. “George.” Calvin sat up. The man didn’t move. “George!” He shouted.

George fell sideways off of his bed and face first into the ground. He started to convulse as the men quickly all shot out of their beds.

“What the fuck is that!?” Skripes yelled, pointing at the foot-long, wet, pulsing object connected to the back of George’s neck. It was sucking George’s blood, turning itself from a puke green color to a sick reddish-brown.

Thomas grabbed his rifle and immediately aimed at the thing.

“Don’t, you’ll shoot George!” Calvin yelled.

“He’s already dead!” Thomas shouted back, taking aim. “That thing’s killed him!” Thomas fired just as Reggie grabbed the rifle and threw it upwards, sending a bullet through the ceiling. The thing on George’s neck stopped sucking and looked in the direction of the noise. The men stared in horror at its two large insectine eyes, and it’s four inch, needle-like mouth. Skripes would compare it to a mosquito “straight from the gates of hell.”

The mosquito-thing propelled itself upwards with two large, veined wings. The buzzing drowned out all noises, even the rain. Thomas didn’t bother to reload, as Reggie took out his knife and tried to cut at the thing. It dodged the knife and attempted to stick Reggie’s wrist with its horrible needle. A shot rang out and the thing exploded. The buzzing was gone, and Reggie fell to the ground, screaming in agony. He held his now thumb-less hand, shot by Calvin and his pistol. Thomas dropped his rifle and went to Reggie, as Skripes and Calvin went to George. They yelled at George, but his dead body did not respond. Suddenly everybody, even Reggie, went silent, as they listened. There was more buzzing, and it was getting louder. Calvin immediately grabbed his and George’s gear while Skripes grabbed the rest. Thomas helped Reggie up, and they ran out into the rain and darkness.

None of them knew how long they ran. As soon as they paused, Thomas applied a shirt made into turnicut to Reggie’s hand. Later, he heated up his knife with Reggie’s lighter and cauterized the wound. Reggie was asleep for two days before he finally came to. The men had waited for him to wake up to decide what to do. They weren’t sure if they should press on to the next village, but as they looked at the map, it seemed the next town was the only one for over one hundred miles. The men decided to go to the town to find help for Reggie and to send someone for George’s body, then they would continue on. The men, luckily, had ran towards the town in their fright, and were only a few miles out from it. They all walked silently, not discussing what happened in the village. Skripes opened his mouth once to tell a joke, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the thing that was on George’s neck. The men reached the town, but soon discovered that it too was abandoned. They walked through the empty town, not sure if Reggie could make it to the next town on the map – he was raving about drums, but nobody could hear them. Then Thomas spotted a small boy, squatting with his back to the men in the middle of the road.

“Ay! Boy!” Thomas called to the child. The child stood up and turned around to face them. His looked at each of the men, seeing Reggie being held up by Skripes, last. He noticed Reggie’s wound, and smiled.

“What are you smiling at boy?” Reggie shouted angrily.

“I am smiling at you, sirs.” the boy responded in perfect English.

The men were surprised by his diction and took a moment to respond.

“Where are the people of this village? Our friend requires aid, and there is another dead in the town to the north.” Calvin asked.

The boy’s smile widened. “I will lead you to them.” He said.

“This boy is… disconcerting.” Thomas said quietly to the other men.

“Agreed, but we have to follow him. Reggie can’t handle much more.” Skripes replied, also keeping his voice low.

“I agree with Skripes. We follow the boy.” Calvin said solemnly.

The men followed the boy in to the jungle.

“The drums… they’re so loud!” Reggie bellowed in pain.

“Come on Reggie.” Skripes said, helping him walk.

The men could hear people yelling and screaming and hooting in unison. The boy led them to a clearing full of what they assumed were the people from the abandoned towns. Hundreds of people wearing masks and dancing around a table sized rock.

“Wha-” Thomas couldn’t finish his sentence, he was so shocked.

The boy turned to the four, smiling again. Four villagers came from nowhere and seized each man. They were forced to the rock and had their wrists tied behind their backs. They were forced to kneel around the rock. Skripes faced Reggie, who was pale from pain, and Calvin faced Thomas. Now before the rock, Calvin saw a wooden board on top of it, with what looked like obsidian in the middle. A villager put his hand in Reggie’s face, palm up, with two ivory dice in it. Reggie looked at the dice, confused.

“He wants you to roll them.” The boy flatly.

“Why and how would I do that?” Reggie asked, seething.

“For a sacrifice to the Elder god. And like this.” The boy responded. At the boy’s word, the villager shoved the dice into Reggie’s mouth. He immediately spat the dice out onto the board. The four friends looked at each other, then down at the obsidian. They could see lights swirl inside the darkness of the rock, then the lights abruptly disappeared. Rain started to sprinkle down. The amount of rain rapidly grew into a monsoon. Calvin could hear the natives getting louder as the rain grew more powerful. He noticed something odd about the rain. Even though it was night, the rain seemed queerly darker than usual rain. It became too dark to see, so a torch was brought to the group. Calvin gasped in horror as the light revealed the red color to the raining blood.

“What is this!? What is happening!?” Skripes shouted in confusion.

The dice were grabbed by an unseen villager and put it Calvin’s mouth. He wanted to spit them out, but he didn’t know what was going to happen. After a moment of hesitation, he was slammed in the back of his head, forcing him to spit the dice out. Even covered in the blood, they could all see the swirling lights in the obsidian. Reggie closed his eyes in fear. Skripes tried struggling, but was slapped by a lumbering man in a mask. The man stepped back for a moment, then started scratching at his body furiously. In the next instant, bees erupted out of his body, like a sentient red mist. All the men cried out in horror , even Skripes who couldn’t see what was happening. The dice were picked up by another villager and presented in front of Thomas

“Make it stop! How does it stop?!” Thomas shouted at the boy, horrified.

“You must wake the Elder.” The boy said calmly.

“How do I wake it? Just tell me how!” Thomas begged.

The boy walked over to Thomas.

“You must say the words to help wake him.”

Thomas, his eyes as wide as they physically could be, turned his head towards the boy. “Tell me.” He said in a calm terror. The boy leaned close to Thomas and whispered. Thomas looked at the boy, confused. The boy merely nodded with a smile from ear to ear. In the midst of the blood and the swarm, Thomas took a moment and breathed deep. He started murmuring something. He stopped.

“You must repeat it. Repeat it many times.” The boy said to Thomas. Thomas started murmuring again. Through the blood rain, the swarm, and the sounds of the natives, the men were only able to pick out some words Thomas was saying.

“Ph’nglui… R’lyeh… fhtagn…” Was all Calvon picked out from Thomas. As he chanted, Calvin noticed the blood started to concentrate over the obsidian. The more he chanted, the more the rain lightened. It seemed to be flowing into the obsidian on the board. The swarm flew directly into the obsidian, disappearing into the black. The men heard the horrible buzzing from the mosquito things and saw them be sucked in as well. Thomas started leaning over the obsidian, just out of the way of the blood flowing into it. As the bees disappeared, and the rain streamed into the board, the natives were only getting louder. Even the boy started dancing and shouting, smiling the whole time.

The wind was ripping as it was sucked into the board, and the blood started thinning out. Skripes realized that instead of leaning in, Thomas as actively resisting the pull the board had on him.

“Thomas, stop! Stop saying the words!” Skripes shouted over the wind and the screams.

Thomas looked up, his face stretching and almost touching the obsidian. “I’ll return.” He said. His face touched the obsidian and suddenly he was gone. The last of the blood followed, as with the swarm of bees and the blood clouds, revealing the morning sun. the board closed itself into a tight box, dice and all.

The cult of natives rushed in on three remaining men, waving weapons and screaming. Calvin and Skripes heard Reggie cry out in pain as he forced his thumbless hand through the bindings on his wrist. He quickly fell to Calvin and undid his bindings as well. A spear flew. Reggie tried to get to Skripes, but the spear met Reggie’s neck before he could. Calvin tried to free Skripes as the cult rapidly approached, but the bindings were too tight.

“Calvin save yourself!” Skripes barked. “Take the board, get Thomas back! Just go!”

Calvin and Skripes looked at each other for the last time. Then Calvin grabbed the board and ran as fast as he could. The cult descended upon Skripes, but as soon as they realized the board was gone, they took after Calvin.

Calvin ran and did not stop running for two days. He finally realized the natives had given up chasing a man who wouldn’t stop, and he collapsed. He sat for awhile, enjoying the salty smell of the jungle. He then realized the Jungle doesn’t have a salty smell and immediately took to running again, now towards the smell of the ocean. He came upon a beach, within sight of a port for freighter ships. Calvin couldn’t decide if he was lucky, or the board was, but he ran to the port regardless. He had no money, so he snuck onto a ship and stowed away. He overheard a crew member that the ship was heading for America.

As Calvin sat in the darkness, he quietly recited the names of his fallen friends.

“Reggie Thistleton, George Smith, Skripes Herman, Thomas van Pelt.” He constantly repeated to himself. As he repeated the names, Calvin studied the board that was now more of a box, as it had shut itself. He turned it over and saw large symbols scrawled into it, probably in the native language. The symbols slowly started shifting on the wooden box, which a week ago would have amazed Calvin. The symbols shifted to form a single, horrifying word.

The Hospital

The doctor sat next to Mr. Calvin, mesmerized by the tale.

“What… what was the word?” The doctor asked his patient.

Calvin looked at the doctor, tears in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak it, then snapped it shut and curled himself into a ball. He started to sob.

“Mr. Calvin, what was the word?” The doctor asked gently.

Calvin stared wide-eyed at the wall, and with a voice of dread, he uttered three syllables.

“JUMANJI.”