The Island Should Not Be

Chapter 1 — The Island That Devours everything

I woke with my face pressed into wet sand, lungs clawing for air, my body aching as if the sea had tried to break me apart and failed. Salt burned my throat when I coughed, my fingers digging into the shore as if it might pull me back under.

“Darren…”

The name slipped out before I even saw him.

He lay a few feet away, half-buried where the tide had abandoned him. For a moment—just a moment—I waited for him to move, to curse, to laugh the way he always did when things went wrong. But the waves came and went, and he stayed still.

I crawled to him. My hands hovered, unsure where to touch, as if I could still hurt him. His skin was cold. Too cold.

“No… no, no…”

My voice cracked, useless against the silence. My stomach twisted, and I gagged, but nothing came out—just dry heaves and the taste of salt.

We weren’t supposed to die out here. We were supposed to make money, go home, and laugh about the storms we survived. He was supposed to be there.

I don’t remember deciding to bury him. My body just moved.

I dug into the sand with my bare hands, nails tearing, grit grinding into my skin. I kept working until my arms trembled, until each handful of sand felt heavier than the last. I dragged him into the shallow pit, avoiding his face, because if I looked—if I really looked—I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the words barely sound. “I’m sorry I didn’t move… I’m sorry I left you…”

The sand covered him slowly. Too slowly.

When it was done, I just knelt there, staring at the uneven mound, waiting for something—anything—but the island gave me nothing back. No wind. No sound. Just silence.

A shadow passed over me.

I looked up. A bird circled above—massive, its wings stretching wide enough to blot out the pale sky. Hunger twisted inside me, sharp and sudden. I staggered to my feet and lunged when it came low.

I almost had it.

The ground exploded.

Claws burst from the sand, followed by a monstrous body, legs snapping. A giant crab seized the bird mid-flight, its claws crushing bone with a sickening crack before dragging it screaming into the surf.

I stumbled back, heart slamming against my ribs. My breath came in short, broken gasps.

This place…

This place wasn’t right.

I turned away from the shore.

The forest stood waiting.

Trees twisted together like something grew wrong, their roots clawing out of the earth as if trying to escape it. The canopy swallowed the light, leaving only shifting shadows beneath. The air felt thick, pressing against my chest, each breath harder than the last.

I hesitated at the edge.

Behind me, the sea. Ahead, the unknown.

My stomach growled, sharp with hunger. My hands shook—not from the cold, but from something deeper. Fear.

Still, I stepped forward.

And the jungle seemed to close in around me.

Branches snapped under my feet as I pushed deeper into the forest. Something shifted ahead.

It rose from the undergrowth—long, segmented, glistening. A centipede the size of a fallen log. Its body rippled as it lifted its head, mandibles twitching.

We locked eyes.

A sharp hiss cut through the air.

The creature spat.

The liquid struck a nearby tree with a wet crack. Bark blackened instantly, curling inward as if eaten alive. Smoke hissed from the wound.

My breath hitched—then my body moved before I could think. I ran.

The forest blurred. Roots lunged at my ankles, branches clawed at my skin. Behind me, the ground trembled with the creature’s pursuit—fast, relentless.

A step—then nothing.

The world snapped upward.

A net yanked me into the air, ropes biting into my limbs as I dangled, spinning. Panic surged. I thrashed, twisted, and trying to free myself.

A heavy crack echoed.

I looked up.

A massive log swung toward me.

Too fast.

I grabbed the net, heaving my weight to one side. The ropes strained—then shifted just enough.

The log slammed past, grazing the edge of the net.

The impact threw me sideways. Pain exploded through my body. The world spun, vision fracturing into shards of light.

Darkness crept in.

Footsteps.