The Island

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Summary upon completion.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Island

Submitted: December 25, 2007

Reads: 267

Comments: 1

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Submitted: December 25, 2007



His breaths in seep, legs, arms his head banged in to the never-ending splash from in the yet to be excepted sea. The water’s glazed, gleaming from in the inch thick coats of its liquid as the sun shined from in and of above. His thoughts questioning for clearness, urged for calm yet he remained seeing the crucifixes splitting from in the drips of the suns shine all around him and on him as his need for vision has yet been restored.
Answers were asked, splashed in response and is now left assure of his where being. “God Dammit.” He thinks, “God, Mercy, God.” His cries, his past as its truck from in his only eye, his feet no longer holding his weight with only his arms for assisting him in the breaths that have now seeped from his lapse from in the time as of now its his escape.  
In Mirage he sets his float, soaked from in his being as it once were. The breath of dry air, his stance in the sail it had sent him forth along with the others who too had known yet not wondered as he had down in to the cellar of the ship. The cellar had its means, the warning’s and its sign no longer held value as if it would a month or two before, in a main land or as he was: assisted by a Priest of Holly ness. For the others a Vampire was in a time an existing legend as it were but as it was it was only a means pronounced for a unholy hoaxed, a demon for blood, its fable for taunting women. He had heard the talk from amongst the other on the ship, sayings that the holly one has brought a Demon along, a Vampire mixed in with their luggage from in the cellar where it is stored. He wondered, lead his way, keeping in mi9nd that some of the other’s had already been in below; setting their sights on to this demon as it were.
His steps begin to tumble, hearing the cage being rattled, shock, and the sound of tinkles from in a flaming spark. The scene of the Priest, in revenge; dashing a vile of holly water in to the metal barred box. “Cast from in sin.” He yelled. “A dammed, God bleed your soul. Demon be gone.” Bringing the vile up in to his mouth, sucking back the holly water and spitting it out in to the cage. He continued to watch, standing in behind the pile of boxes, luggage bags from in behind the priest until the ships power went out, blank, leaving him there in his place and with out a sight for where he stood only the sound of combustion from after he had gained caution from in the beat of his own heart. The flames flew in on him like a flaming flock of birds. His bolt from in under them, a dash from out of his stance then looking back in to the two faces as they rushed upon him, teeth glaring in fangs, the Priest in a his sought for revenging growl as the man next to him held his mouth from in the piercing grip of its fangs.
The dead of flames had caught him, his pace, the tension he had gained from in the retreat for not being one from in the ripping sizzle he had fallen to be held in by the gasping reach for its hold by the Priest and the Vampire demon. The fight bled from in him, the flames as the tickled his thought, he looked back and the once ship heading for the Mediterranean now dies from in his and what screams he was to expect from in it as the flames set from in its bubbling wind glorifies the suffocation that now is burnt from in a breath.
He lets the waves blow in, off him and all around for far as his sight leads him to be. No one around, nothing but the wet, slicked, dipped from in; its feeling is all that is met. His breaths begin to pound from out of his heart, pushing from in his lungs – he is now alone with no one to look upon, to look to. He brings his head in, setting in to the feel along with the rest of his body as he sinks beneath that one site he had been left down under it in order to regain his cautions. He spins from in the hold of wetness, brings head up from in the lock ness for breath and spits what liquid his mouth had filled with in discuss then looks down in to the image he had seen as it bleeds a wave in over his face in reflection, looks in, his breaths as they ripple. He clears his sight from in the terrors of his own eye, looks deep in to the leaking spring in blood as it spills out from under his chin from in the right side of his neck. “Sharks” He thinks, splashes his head back and forth, looking in all directions then stops and follows his breath, looking out in to a direction he is unsure of and with only one lead from in it telling him its all a swim.
The sky remains clear, sun in its shine, hours of swimming to him felt like a day and another as his splashing pace held his tensing strokes at ease while his eyes laid shut. “This is happening.” He thinks, “Land, I’m free.” His eyes set as anchors, dropping in on the sandy shores, spinning around on the greens of treetops as his mouth sets sail from in the wind from in. “Mirage.” He thought then feels his stomach begin to tighten as he kicks his feet to the emptiness of his water digging hands. His eyes burst in to a opening, looking down as life begins to pass him by. Fish, creatures from in the bottom of its sea, the weeds blown from in the under sea’s wind; It all matches with the beat of his heart as he leans back, pushing him self up in to a stand then lets what eight he had held, drip from off him, letting it itch as the water bleeds it out from off his skin and from out of its hold.
His first step clear and away from out of the water’s, he watches, looking down as they lead him in to a sight that would have meant to be heard but clearly could not. Trees begin to tower in, fields of sandy beach close in from in his sides. “Where can I be.” He questions himself, looks around, his amazed thought for description is now clearly telling him there is and could be none. He steps, letting his eyes roll down, looking on to the dry grass, the fields of tropic weed and letting the dryness of its air cripple him with its illusion of nothingness as did its waters when realizing he was alone. He falls to his knees, sets out his hand and drops in to the only comfort he could find from in the mounting sands.
“Oy.” He heard clouding in above him then hears it again. “Oy, come along now, no need for playing dumb or taking advantage of its numbness.” He lifts his head up, feels his face falling in to a tinkle as the sand from on it falls in to the sandy ground. The shadow of legs lies out front of him; he follows it only to be lead in to the same feeling as his sight is left in on sand. “Eer ya go.” Said the shadow setting a wood curved cup of water down in front of his head.
“Take a sip, wet your lips. If its illness your looking for ya isn’t going to be reliving it from in here.” Said the shadow now resembling what image it had in to a man. “What’s your name?” The man asked watching as the tiring image before him lifted its self up on all fours like a dog and drinks like one before grabbing it and sitting on his back side to look over the open sea.
“Paul,” He said bringing the wooden cup to his lip and taking a drink. “Where am I, Why is this place un civilized. I stranded for hours out there.”
“Jacks the name.” Said the man, pinching the fingers from in his right hand on to his blue sun clouded shirt then lifts up his left short leg using his hand and sits down next to Paul looking out in to an unsolved wind. “Ship wrecked?” He asked.
“And you?” Asked Paul.
“And us all.” Jack said looking on to him, eyeing his white cotton shirt, the black cargo pants and the hikers as they sit on the sand in a mud that’s beginning to show signs of dryness.
“Others? There’s others here?” Paul asked, letting the wooden cup fall from in the hold he held on it as a means for life and its salvation of man. “How long have you all been here and why?”
“I’m not a complicated Man.” Said Jack begging to lower his tone, no longer presenting him self from in the piece he had held. “It’s not to be complicated you hear, we hold none and you will also or you are one to learn.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Paul asked looking on to Jack from in the corner of his left eye then targeting it back on to the sight he had from in the sea.
“Exactly as its meant. Now come along, I’ll set you in; you need the rest, something to eat before you make your stand in on this land.” Jack said, gets to his feet, steps out towards the bush from in the trees then looks back as Paul makes his stand, shaking his head, swinging the wooden cup in his hand and watching as the water spits from out of it as if what he had just learned has and will have nothing to do with him.

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