Footsteps echoed through the long, narrow hallway. Ryan could see the light. With a last effort, he threw himself through the gateway, and landed on the platform. He was going to make it.

“Wait! Wait for me!” he gasped. The ticket girl raised her hand to signal him to stop.
“Do you have a ticket sir?” she questioned
“Of course!” Ryan gasped as he waved the blue ticket in front of her nose. With an annoyed look on her face, she stamped the ticket and let him board the ship. That was close…

~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan felt the rain pelt the soggy sand. He remembered how he was almost late to board. Then, it was a good thing. Now, it was the most unfortunate thing he had ever done in his entire life. Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle at the quirk of fate. He took a deep breathe, momentarily forgetting all that happened in the last few hours. Life is not without a sense of irony…

Opening his eyes, he looked back at the crash site. The rain made his vision blurry, and thus unable to see the survivors clearly. Slowly, he walked back, the sand crunching under his feet as he went. As he got closer, he could make out a Priest healing a group of injured people. Many of them were still young, some not more than 15 or 16 years old. Why did this have to happen to them God? Why? They have so much to see, so much to do. Why?

As he walked closer, he could smell the smoking wood and metal. Ryan surveyed the wreck. The mast was long gone when the balrog tore it off. The main body of the ship lay partly in the water and partly on the sand. The view reminded him of a ghostly skeleton, lost and abandoned. Bits and pieces of metal from the decimated engine were scattered about the beach. The worst part was the bodies. A numerous amount of lifeless bodies littered the beach; their spirits all consumed by heaven or hell. Ryan could not take it anymore. He turned his head away and walked on.

“You, yea you, stop right there,” yelled the Priest. Ryan looked up into his eyes. “Where were you? All the ship’s survivors were supposed to stay here and not wander off. Who knows what lurks around in these jungles…”
What a cocky little… Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but someone else got there before him.
“But we aren’t going to stay here long are we? I mean the rescuers…”
“There will be no rescuers,” interrupted a young lady wearing a white stewardess uniform. “Right before the crash, I went to check on the captain. He said we were days off course, and that we were turning back. People listen, we were off track for days! Even if there are rescuers, they wouldn’t know where to look!” A hard hand grabbed her wrist.
Ryan took the stewardess behind a rock. “Look lady, these people are scared to hell. I think all of us would appreciate it if you gave some support. I mean, even if we are 99.99% hopelessly and utterly screwed, there is still that .01% of making it out alive, you got me?” The stewardess instantly understood.

Ryan jogged to the front of the group. They looked terrified; he could see it in their eyes. The crowd murmured amongst themselves, some of them crying. He could feel the doubts in all of their hearts.

“Hey!” he yelled, “Everything… everything is gonna be alright. Just… we just need to focus and help each other out you know? I mean, there will be a morning today, and all of us are going to be here to watch the sun come up. I promise you that.” The crowd froze. Who was this person, and why was he so confident? What could he feel that the others could not?

“Just try and get some sleep. We can wait for rescuers in the morning. I’m sure they can’t spot anything in the darkness.” The survivors murmured in agreement.

Ryan sat down against a rock. The rain started to let up a little. He stared into the distance. Everyone was moving into the tree line, hoping to get away from the remaining rain. Suddenly, he had that same sense he had while back on the boat. Something was near. He could not shake off the feeling. The night was not over, and something else was going to happen.

“Ryan?” a small voice asked. Ryan whipped his head around so fast, his neck cracked. Cursing, he looked up into the Michelle’s dark blue eyes. With a little grin, she closed her eyes and put her soft, cold hands on his neck. Ryan felt his neck loosen up instantly.
“Uh thanks, but what do you want?” he asked.
“I-I just wanted to thank you again. I mean, you did save my life and all,” she explained, staring off into the ocean.
“Michelle, there’s no need, I just did what anyone would have done, given the situation.”
“No, not everyone is like you. Most people just run and save themselves. If it weren’t for you, I would have ended up like that hermit…” Tears filled her eyes again.
“No, no please don’t cry, not now. We don’t need anymore grief, please.” Without warning, she threw herself on him, her head buried into his chest. Ryan felt her hot tears seeping into his clothes. He wrapped his arms around her body. He felt her cold, shaking hands tighten around his back. Ryan cradled her light body in his arms. Michelle’s dark moonlight fluttered in the ocean breeze. Ryan took off her dark guiltian and set it down beside them in the sand. His hand went up to her cheek, brushing a few stray blonde hairs away and wiping away her salty tears. He could feel her breathe; such a sweet and delicate breath. Ryan’s eyes met Michelle’s. His nose touched her nose. His hand’s caressed her skin. His lips met her lips, and in an instant they would never separate. Slowly, Ryan felt as her hands relaxed and warmed up. Michelle’s tears started to ease up. The two remained entwined together in a passionate, romantic kiss in the star-filled night, on the dark, sandy beach, of a mysterious tropical island, out in the middle of the ocean, lost somewhere in the world.

By the time he got back to the other passengers, most were already finishing their beds made of spread out leaves. The rain had stopped completely. Ryan took a deep gulp of the scented air. He felt relaxed, as if he was in the sauna in SleepyWood. Sleep tugged its way into the souls of all the survivors. One by one, they all started to fall asleep. Soon, the air was filled with snores.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

With an arrow fitted into his Asianic, Ryan prowled through the dense underbrush of the jungle. He could smell the faint, kind of burning scent up ahead of him. Trying not to make any noise, he quietly hiked through the foliage. It was closer now. He could feel it. Ryan reached behind him, and took out another steel arrow from his shaft. He was closing in. A white figure dashed through the trees ahead of him. Ryan ducked down to avoid detection. He could only catch a few glimpses at the figure, for it traveled at a very fast pace, storming through the jungle. Ahead of him, Ryan saw a small clearing. The trees seemed to be cut away neatly, almost as if by human tools. He crept up to the edge of the trees. The white figure stood in the middle of the clearing. It easily looked to be about ten feet tall. It had a shaggy, dark brown mane covering its white fur. Horrifyingly long claws stood at the edge of its paws. Its snow white fur gleamed in the sun, and on its hindquarters protruded a long, mahogany, bushy tail. What was this thing?

Quietly, Ryan drew back the bowstring, readying his two arrows. He closed one eye and aimed steadily at the creature’s back. Suddenly, the creature howled, piercing the sky with a deafening shriek. It whipped its head back and stared straight at Ryan. Ryan saw the scar on its left eye: a lycanthrope. Ryan released the arrows. They traveled straight and pure, right at the white werewolf’s back. As quick as Ryan released the bowstring, the lycanthrope swung its razor sharp claws and sliced the missiles away harmlessly. Ryan stood rooted to the ground. The lycanthrope charged at him, wielding its claws menacingly. He could not get away. He watched as the white wolf lifted its right claw and slashed down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan’s eyes sprung open. A scream erupted into the dawning sky. He whipped his head around. The sky was lightening, but it was still dark on the island. Another scream tore through the fresh morning air. Quickly, Ryan sprang up, and fitted an arrow into his Asianic. He sprinted towards the ruckus. Suddenly, a third yell of surprise rang his ears. It came from across the beach: on the opposite side of where the second came from. He heard a muffled blow, and then everything was silent again. Ryan concentrated, and shot an arrow into the direction of the third scream. He heard the impact of steel on flesh. There was a roar and a ruffle of leaves, but nothing more. Silence came as quickly as it was broken.

“Oh my god my son! Where is my son?” yelled a lady.
“My daughter! Please, someone, where is she!” yelled another.
“Josh! Josh where are you,” cried a third.

Ryan ran towards these voices and saw three people assembled together on the beach. They all wore a look of fear and confusion. The survivors each woke up to startling news. Ten people, all under the age of 20, were missing. What was going on? What could they do? The survivors could only wait. There was nothing else to do but wait.