The Sea Serpent anchored off the island, and her crew disembarked to set up a temporary camp near the beach. The first day passed uneventfully as they ferried supplies and gear from the ship to the sand. Behind them, the dense jungle rose in a wall of green, lush and beautiful to the eye, yet carrying an unshakable weight of unease.
The place seemed idyllic: white sands, turquoise waters, palm trees swaying gently in the wind. Exotic birds streaked across the sky, their songs filling the air. And yet, Jana couldn’t shake the constant pulse of mistrust under her skin.
By nightfall, the crew had built a fire on the beach. They shared food, stories, and laughter, using noise to drive away the silence pressing from the jungle. Gregor broke it first, his laugh booming over the crackle of the flames:
“Remember when we raided that merchant ship and only found spices? The captain made us eat spicy stew for a week.”
Laughter spread like sparks among the crew, easing the day’s tension. Malik, known for his dark humor, leaned forward with a wolfish grin.
“Hope we don’t get another stew here. I’ve heard stories about islands like this—hidden cannibals who feast on careless visitors. If they catch me, at least they’ll burn their tongues on my meat well seasoned.”
The laughter faltered and died. Jana’s brow tightened slightly.
“Cannibals? Where did you hear that, Malik?”
He shrugged, still smiling.
“Superstitious sailors, you know how they are.”
Brannon’s stern voice cut the air.
“Stop with the nonsense. You’re only making us more nervous.”
That night, none of them truly slept.
The second night fell followed by a day of exhaustion looking for any leads of the orb, and as usual, Jana and the crew sat around the fire, the flickering light painting their faces while they traded jokes and casual words. The sound of their voices was a fragile comfort against the jungle’s heavy silence.
That’s when Jana felt it—something out of place. She studied the faces lit by the fire, counting without meaning to. Something was wrong.
“Has anyone seen Finn?” she asked suddenly, breaking through the chatter.
Glances were exchanged, shoulders lifted. Finally, Maren spoke, casual:
“Probably taking a piss somewhere. You know him.”
Soft chuckles followed, thin and forced.
“We’ll wait till dawn,” Jana said, her tone calm but edged. “No need to panic yet. If he’s not back by then, we search.”
The crew nodded, though the laughter that returned was faint and short-lived.
Dawn came too quickly. When Jana woke, the entire crew was gathered in silence around the spot where Finn usually slept. Tension clung to the air like mist.
“All right,” Jana said, voice steady as her eyes swept over them. “We search. Small groups. Stay together and keep each other in sight. This island might be far more dangerous than it looks.”
They split into uneven teams and hacked their way into the green wall. Machetes bit through vines and tangled roots while the heat pressed down, drenching them in sweat until their clothes clung like a second skin.
Jana noticed the shouts of Finn’s name thinning behind them, but paid it no mind. Maybe they’d just grown tired of calling. Then came the sound—a dull thud, followed by something dragging over leaves.
“Stop!” she barked, spinning, machete raised.
Her eyes swept the trees. Malik was already at her side, breath harsh in the thick, sticky air. The other two with them tightened their grips on their blades, waiting.
“You heard that?” Jana whispered.
Malik nodded slowly, eyes wide.
“There were more of us a minute ago,” he muttered.
Now it was only them—Malik, Jana, and two more John and Maevrin . The silence rang louder than any noise.
“Damn it, Malik,” John hissed, his voice low and tight. “Your cannibals are starting to sound pretty real right now.”
“Back to camp,” Jana ordered, voice calm but sharp. “Whatever or whoever’s here, owns these trees. We regroup and plan.”
They began to edge back, formation tight. Then—another crack, closer this time, just off to their right. The air itself seemed to freeze.
“Run for the beach! Now!” Jana roared, swinging her blade at the foliage.
They bolted. Insects hit their faces like rain as they tore through the jungle, hacking, stumbling, sprinting. Then came the stones—sharp, fast, flying from the green each one better aimed than the last.
“Faster!” Malik yelled, ducking one that sang past his ear. “We’re sitting targets here!”
Fear shoved their legs faster. When they broke onto the sand, the stones stopped. Some collapsed where they stood trying to catch their breath; Jana flung herself into the surf, letting the salt wash away the crawling swarm of insects.
They were still gasping when two crewmen rowed in from the ship, timing their arrival perfectly. Malik stumbled to one, threw his arms around him with a manic grin.
“Zaylid, I have never been so glad to see your ugly face.”
Zaylid shoved him off with a scowl.
“What in hell is going on, Captain?”
Before Jana could answer, a scream ripped from the tree line. Heads snapped toward the sound just as Finn burst from the jungle, crawling, bleeding, eyes wild.
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“Captain!” he gasped, dragging himself forward.
Jana was on him in seconds, the others crowding close. Finn shook under her hands.
“Breathe. Easy,” she said.
John cut in, voice hard.
“Where’s the rest? What happened?”
Finn swallowed hard.
“Cannibals, Captain. Malik was right. They took us. Quiet. One by one. Dragged us to a ruined temple, deep inside. Bodies everywhere. Bones piled high. They were… preparing for something. A ritual. I only got out because they were distracted.”
“We go back to the ship. We arm up and we bring them out,” Jana said, steel in her voice.
Before anyone could move, Sara pointed to the shore, her voice tight.
“Captain… the boat. It’s not here.”
Every head turned. The sand was smooth, empty.
“Damn it,” Zaylid spat. “You said never leave a boat waiting, in case someone crept on the ship. Orders were to pick you us at sunset.”
Jana’s jaw clenched. Her own command now a trap.
“Then we go with what we have,” she said flatly, eyes cutting to the jungle.
A trembling voice broke the silence, it was Maevrin.
“Do we have to? There are more crew on the Sea Serpent than there are here. You don’t need us all… Captain, if we go after them, we might not come back…”
The words hung. Zaylid, Sara, John, Finn, Malik all stared at him like he’d spoken madness. Horror washed their faces.
“Or… or we could wait for the boat to come. Or someone stays here, in case none of you make it, to warn the others…”
All eyes swung to Jana. Her face was stone. She lifted the machete, bringing the edge level with the man’s face. Her voice came out like cold iron.
“No one gets left behind.”
She lowered the blade, then drove it into the wet sand at his feet.
“But you have a choice,” she said, voice like a blade. “Come with us… or be the one exception…and get left behind”
She didn’t wait for an answer. The machete came free in one pull, and she turned to the trees. Without a word, she vanished into the green. The others followed without hesitation, even Finn, clutching his torn body together with shaking hands.
Maevrin hesitated, eyes flicking to the distant ship. Then, shame and fear forcing his legs, he ran after them.
They moved in silence, the jungle swallowing sound. Sweat dripped. Breath rasped. Every step sucked into damp earth.
Finn stumbled forward, whispering.
“This way… the temple…”
The ruin rose between the trees, stone smothered in vines, air thick with rot and old blood. Jana raised her hand. Silence. They crept inside.
Torchlight painted the walls. Bones carpeted the floor. Malik spat to drive away the metallic taste on his tongue.
In the center, the missing crew were tied to stone pillars, eyes wide, muffled screams behind crude gags.
“Gods,” John hissed, lunging forward.
“Quiet,” Jana snapped, hand raised.
Sara and Zaylid tore at the ropes while Malik watched the entrance. The sound of fraying fibers mingled with the captives’ shaking breath.
“They’ll be back,” one whispered hoarsely. “We heard the drums…”
As if summoned, the first deep beat rolled through the ground. Jana’s jaw locked.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
Malik was already moving.
“Up! Move! If you can’t run, we drag you, but no one stays!”
They poured out of the ruin, carrying and half-hauling the wounded. The drums chased them, joined by harsh, guttural cries. The first spear fell before they cleared the trees.
“To the beach, now!” Jana roared, hacking a path with her machete as the cannibals burst from the undergrowth like living shadows.
They were poorly organized, their way of life crude and feral, but what they lacked in cunning they made up for in sheer numbers. They hurled themselves at their prey, biting, ripping flesh in ragged strips. Chaos swallowed the jungle as they ran; some of the crew never made it out, their screams smothered beneath a tide of wild bodies.
Just as they were about to break through the treeline, Jana paused for a heartbeat, making sure every soul who could escape was out first. Her machete carved through the air, cutting down any cannibal reckless enough to come near as she barked orders to the last of them. When the final crewman crossed the threshold, Jana spun to run for the shore with the rest—only to make it three steps.
Something—or someone—hit her like a battering ram, slamming her into the ground. It weighed far more than any man on her crew. The body pinning her was coated in slick black paint that gleamed with sweat, only the whites of his eyes, his teeth, and a few bare patches of skin at his waist visible where the pigment ran thin.
Jana’s instincts flared; she thought it was another cannibal going for her throat, but then something registered—it wasn’t biting. It was grappling her, trying to hold her down, not tear her apart. One of them… and yet not.
With a desperate kick, she broke free, rolling to her feet, machete ready.
“Who are you?” she spat, breath ragged.
The savage crouched low, like a gorilla preparing to charge, shoulders coiled tight, hands circling in the air as if waiting to see who struck first. His feral eyes burned into hers. Jana’s voice cut the air again, louder this time:
“Who are you?!”
Something shifted. The animal fury in his gaze dimmed, a spark of comprehension flickering there. Slowly, with deliberate care, he began to straighten until he stood fully upright, like any other man.
The moment shattered with the sound of shouting:
“Captain! Captain!”
Her crew’s voices yanked her back. Jana blinked, caught between the call of her men and the wild figure before her. He was staring at her, unblinking, as though waiting… as though wanting to speak.
Jana glanced toward the beach where her crew cried for her, then back to him, torn in that breathless pause.
At last, she turned and bolted. She didn’t dare look back until she was nearly clear of the trees. When she did, the savage hadn’t moved. He stood tall and still, and then raised one fist into the air.
The moment that gesture cut through the jungle, the screams and pounding feet of the other cannibals died in an instant. Silence crashed back over the forest, heavy and absolute, as Jana broke onto the sand with her heart hammering.
When she burst from the treeline, the crew waiting on the shore let out a collective gasp. Finn, half-slumped against Malik, looked ready to collapse. Zaylid stepped forward, grabbing her arm to make sure she was whole.
“What in hell happened in there?” John panted. “The cannibals stopped screaming all at once… and just let us go.”
Jana didn’t answer at first. She still felt that stare—the raised fist that stopped the hunt. Finally, she shook her head.
“Later. We get off this cursed island now. Light the fire. Signal the ship.”
“Boats incoming!” Malik shouted as lights winked on the horizon.
When the oars hit sand, they moved fast, hauling the wounded aboard. Jana stepped on last, eyes fixed on the jungle one final time. Silent now. Waiting.
Back on the Sea Serpent, the air was tight with unspoken fear. Jana ordered the messenger brought forward. They dragged him to the center deck. Sweat-streaked, blood-spattered, she stood over him.
“You sent us here to die,” she said, soft as stone, every word heavy.
The man shook his head wildly.
“I—I was just following orders—”
“Whose?” Jana’s voice cut him like a blade, cold enough to still the sea.
He trembled, lips locked. Jana’s stare didn’t waver.
“Zaylid. Sara. Ready a boat.”
The man’s eyes went wide. Jana crouched, the machete resting lazy on her shoulder.
“You know what’s on that island?” she asked, voice low.
A frantic shake of the head.
“I’ll be merciful,” she said, tying his hands herself. They dragged him to the rail.
“Don’t worry. We won’t throw you overboard,” her voice calm, almost kind. “We’ll take you back.” She raised the blade, pointing to the black outline of the shore. “And I’ll wait until dawn. If fate wants you alive, you’ll survive that island. And if not…” She straightened, eyes hard. “Then you’re not worth saving.”
She didn’t say another word. There was no point wasting breath or blood. The island would do the work for her.
The boat ride was silent, the messenger clueless to what awaited him. Only the sound of oars slicing water marked the night.
That night, while the Sea Serpent floated at a safe distance, a lone figure flailed and screamed for help on the shore. No one went down. Exhaustion drowned every will but sleep.
Dawn came, quiet and still. Jana stepped on deck, eyes to the sand. As she expected: nothing. The beach was bare, the tide erasing all.
“Raise the sails,” she ordered, voice flat. The canvas unfurled, the ship turned, and the cursed island slipped into the horizon. It was time to resume the original mission.
