Written by blacklight

After three days of harvesting food, wood, and rock, I’ve finally gained enough supplies to venture by a makeshift boat. I push out to sea, beating back the sharks as I ran and dove in. I blacked out to find myself at another island much like the one I left. But wait… the inhabitants of this land seem much more hostile… Imps… Imps everywhere. I run to the nearest forest knowing that I can only hope to hide from the monsters in the great number that they are hunting me in.

I must quickly gather the supplies for a new boat. This savage land has no sandstone, the last ingredient I need to create my kiln. I will soon die without fresh water. These thistle seeds will keep me going for another day or two, but after that…Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I hit the tree with my fists again and again in a blind rage. “WHY. WON’T. YOU. DROP. BRANCHES?” I collapse in a ball sobbing and screaming my god or any being that might hear “Damn you Vaughn. DAAAMN YOUUUUU.”

A day and a night pass while I wail away at the nearby trees. The local monsters are getting bolder each night. First came the rats, and a sentient blob of slime. Too stupid to realize that a spear would make short work of them. Living nightmares come next, skin dripping from their faces. Faces that strike a chord somewhere in the recesses of my mind. I know these men must be my shipmates. I swiftly put them out of their misery with a couple of sick wet chops of my axe.

The bark of the trees of this isle is tough and thick, but flexible, I’ve tied it around my arms and legs and it protects me from these sad demons and their groans of despair. The sun is up again… The damn blistering sun is drying out my leather. A piece cracks and I clumsily destroy some materials. Luckily an inquisitive bear volunteers its hide as a replacement. My boat is complete and I’m ready to escape again. But what fresh hell awaits me on my new island? Or will I just sail endlessly for days until I’m too weak to fend off the assault of the abhorrent sea creatures?

I float in to a new island as dawn breaks. The bleeding seems to have stopped… I look for a nearby cove to take shelter in, maybe if I find some string I can sew these wounds shut. I find a dark stony corner mostly surrounded by trees. I roll out my makeshift leaf blanket hoping that some rest will make my head stop swimming. I dream of a town, my town, and my family waiting for me sitting on a chair by the fire. I can feel feet on fire. A red slime is covering them, I try to fight it off but am too weak. A terrified squeal is all I can release “No, not like this… Not like this”.

YOU ARE DEAD!