ISLAND IN THE SUN

>Be Anon
>You were 25 years old, standing at 6'1".
>You had just graduated from college, majoring in Geology. You had spent a few years in the military, and they had helped pay for a bulk of your courses.
>It was a tough 4 years, but you had managed to graduate with honors.
>To celebrate, you had booked an ocean cruise down to the Caribbean.
>It had just started a couple days ago, but you were already having tons of fun. You had sunk the majority of your savings into this trip, and you considered it money well spent.
>Your parents had been against it, but you didn't care. You already had a job secured which you would start when you got back to the mainland in a couple weeks.
>Currently, you were sitting in your cabin, sitting on your bed and fiddling with your phone.
>It was getting late, and you think you were going to put on sleepwear and try to get some rest soon.
>You were also just a -bit- nervous.
>Part of the ships route had involved heading straight through the Bermuda Triangle.
>You thought that it was just a stupid superstition, but actually going through the Bermuda Triangle in a ship was a bit... Unnerving to say the least.
>You get off of the bed, and head up to the main deck.
>A walk around the deck would be just what you needed to clear your head before you went to sleep.
>You get up onto the deck, where it's lit up by soft lighting. You can hear quiet conversations between the small amount of people standing around. 
>As you stand on the deck, you lean on one of the rails, taking in the tropical sunset.
>Yep. Life was good.

>As you're about to head back down to your room, you're suddenly knocked to the floor as the boat sharply comes to a stop.
>Your blood is audibly pumping as you quickly stand back up, looking around the deck. The few other people on the deck with you look just as confused (and scared) as you are.
>What the hell is going on!?
>From the upper decks near where the boat is controlled, you can hear shouting.
>That's not good.
>The power flickers out for a moment, leaving you shrouded in darkness. 
>The regular lights don't come back on, but the red-tinted emergency lights do, along with a siren, the shrill noise making your blood run cold.
>That's NOT good!
>Other people on deck are panicking, running around like madmen, either ducking back below deck, or scrambling over to where the lifeboats are moored.
>You though, find yourself frozen.
>Shit, your parents were right!
>You're about to rush back to your room and grab your stuff, but you're knocked to the wooden deck once more as the boat lurches again.
>The boat quickly begins to tilt sideways, and you slide over to the railing, grabbing desperately at the handrail.
>The emergency lights and siren suddenly cut out, rendering you essentially blind in the low light.
>You feel like crying. This kind if stuff wasn't supposed to happen to you! This only happened in movies!
>You slowly rise to your feet, holding the handrail with an iron grip.
>You can hear one of the cruise ship staff shouting for people to head to the lifeboats.
>Your eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, and you can make out the basic shapes of your surroundings. 
>Slowly, you make your way over to where (you think) the lifeboats are.
>As you clumsily walk along the slanted deck using the rail to support yourself, you can see a man waving a flashlight, presumably directing people to the lifeboats. 
>Before you can make it over to him, the boat lurches again, sending you toppling over the railing, towards the dark waters below.
>Your life flashes before your eyes as you fall into the salty, cool water.
>You hit the water at an awkward angle, and it feels like you've just been hit by a car as you punch through the surface of the ocean.
>Your mouth opens to let out a pained yell, only to be quickly silenced by the salty water rushing into your mouth.
>Coughing and sputtering, you manage to break above the surface, doing all you can to keep your head above the water.
>Looking up at the ship, you can see it's still tilting. Right towards you.
>Oh FUCK!
>Kicking and waving your arms with all your strength, you try your best to swim away from the ship, not wanting to be hit by several tons of solid metal.
>You manage to swim out of the shadow of the ship just as the top deck crashes into the water.
>The water displacement creates a wave tossing you away from the ship as it begins to sink into the inky depths. 
>The boat is completely flipped, and in the pale moonlight you can see several large gashes in the bottom of the ships hull.
>What the hell could have caused that!? The ocean here is supposed to be a thousand feet deep!
>As you think of what must be lurking in the depths, you shudder. Looks like the whole Bermuda Triangle thing wasn't just a meme after all.
>None of the lifeboats had managed to launch before the boat sank, and they had essentially been suplexed by the boat flipping. No way were any of them surfacing. 
>You can see other people bobbing up and down in the water, but it seems like someone disappears into the sea every minute, tiring out and drowning. You swim over to the closest person, only to make yourself scream when you see he's dead. The only thing keeping him floating is his life-jacket. The only time you've ever seen a dead body was your grandfather's funeral.
>Fighting back tears, you whisper an apology as you take his life-jacket off of him, before putting it on yourself. He sinks like a stone the minute the foam vest is taken off of him.
>Looking around, you can't see anyone else anymore.
>You don't even have the strength to yell anymore.
>You consider it a blessing when you manage to clamber on a piece of floating debris, half of a wooden table.
>It was no lifeboat, but it kept you out of the water, a small mercy.
>You feel so tired, but you can't risk falling asleep. You're too afraid that you won't wake up.
>As you float on the table, rocking back and forth on the small waves, you begin to feel sick.
>You also feel lightheaded...
>Before you even know what's happening, you faint. The last thing you see is the glint of the moon reflecting off of floating debris.

>You're shocked awake by the sensation of a wave crashing into you, throwing you across a sandy surface.
>You gasp, not being able to remember what's going on as you crawl onto the dry land.
>As you spit out the salty water, you see part of a table next to you.
>The events of last night hit you like a brick, causing you to stand up with a start.
>The table must have carried you to land as you were passed out...
>Wait... You were on land!
>Oh shit, where the fuck are you!?
>Looking around, all you can see is beach to your sides, and a thick jungle in front of you.
>Cupping your hands together, you yell for help, receiving only the calls of birds in response.
>It looks like you're alone...
>As the situation sinks in, you start to tear up a bit, before degenerating into a sobbing mess.
>You had no clue how to survive on an island! You were a fucking Geologist!
>You had learned basic survival skills in the military, but they had been geared more towards the desert rather than the jungle you found yourself next to.
>You hadn't even been stationed in the Middle East! You had spent your years in the army dicking around in Germany!
>Standing back up, you wipe the tears from your face. You could cry later. For now you had to take inventory of your situation. 
>You were wearing some cargo shorts, a green t-shirt, and a pair of thin socks. You had lost your shoes while swimming. All of your clothes were soaked.
>You reach into your pocket, pulling out your phone and wallet.
>Your phone was trashed, being completely ruined by the saltwater. 
>Your wallet was equally as useless, having only your I.D., your credit cards, and some cash. Atleast they would be able to identify you after you died.
>Looking at the sky, you can see that it must be around 8 or 9 in the morning.
>Thinking back to what you knew about survival situations, you decide to work on the essential three things you need.
>Shelter, water, and food.
>You can do this! You will survive! Atleast until you're rescued. Help is probably already on the way.
>Mentally reinvigorated, you set off to try and establish a shelter.

>Oh how wrong you were.
>It's been a day, and you've made almost no progress. 
>You had no clue of how to make a shelter. You had just leaned the table you washed up on over a palm tree and slept under it. You weren't able to make a fire, so you had shivered the whole night through.
>You had collected some coconuts, but you had no clue how to open them. You didn't even like coconut.
>Afraid to journey too deep into the jungle, you hadn't even secured a viable source of drinking water. 
>On the lighter side, some more debris had washed ashore, including some luggage.
>Most of it had just contained clothes and other personal effects.
>Some of it contained some pretty interesting items, though.
>One was loaded with cocaine and money.
>Another suitcase contained nothing but books that had miraculously managed to stay dry. A shame that they were all written in Russian, a language that you didn't speak or read.
>Your favorite bit of luggage so far had to be the one that was absolutely crammed full of guns and ammo.
>You had no clue how someone had managed to sneak in a dozen guns onto the cruise, but frankly you didn't care.
>Worst case scenario, you could blow your head off instead of suffering a slow death of starvation. 
>Speaking of starvation, you were pretty damn hungry. And thirsty.
>You had autisticly tried shooting a coconut open, only to succeed in splattering bits of coconut all over the beach. Maybe using hollowpoints to try and open fruit wasn't the best idea you've ever had.
>As you sat dejected at your failures, you stared into the jungle, thinking.
>You had to find water. You could deal with the hunger, but your thirst was getting unbearable. 
>Currently, you were wandering through the thick jungle.
>You had decided to bring one of the guns, an old 1911, just in case you saw any animals that might be edible.
>You didn't know how to hunt or gut an animal... Hell, you didn't even have a fire to cook it, but you would atleast have meat.
>This must be what those kids in Lord of the Flies felt like.
>As you slowly trudge through the overgrown jungle, sweating what little water you had out, you suddenly hear a noise more beautiful than any sound. 
>Moving water!
>Mustering your remaining strength, you clumsily stumble through the thick brush, over to where you can hear the flow of water.
>You break out into a small clearing, and you can see a small stream of water slowly running out towards the ocean.
>Finally! You haven't had anything to drink in nearly 36 hours, and you were starting to get desperate. 
>You collapse next to the stream and dunk your head under the water, taking in a long drink.
>It may be a bit silty, but you'll be damned if isn't the most satisfying drink you've ever had.
>Your thirst quenched, you lift your head up out of the water and cough a bit.
>It was probably a bad idea to drink it straight from the river, but you didn't have a way to purify the water. Atleast not that you knew of.
>You sigh, standing up. 
>You try to make a mental note of where the stream is located. You didn't have a vessel to carry water in, so you would need to come back here whenever you got thirsty.
>You're about to head back to your "camp" on the beach, when you hear a twig snap behind you.
>You turn around, expecting to see a wild boar or something.
>You couldn't have been more wrong.
>Standing 10 feet in front of you, is what looks like some sort of bipedal lizard.
>It's wearing clothing woven from brightly colored fabrics, and you can see the swell of two small breasts pressing against the fabric.
>Jesus Christ, fucking lizard people!
>The Lizard Woman is holding a long wooden spear with three prongs on the end. It looks like it's likely a tool used to catch fish.
>She points it at you defensively, shouting something at you in an unrecognizable language.
>Fuck, fuck, fuck!
>You don't hesitate, drawing your 1911.
>You point it at her, shouting obscenities at her, hoping she'll back off.
>When she starts to inch her way closer to you, a determined look on her face, you decide that it's the time for action.
>You fire a round into the ground in front of her, sending a clod of dirt flying.
>The sudden weapon discharge startles the woman, causing her to jump back, yelling.
>She falls on her scaled ass, dropping her spear.
>She looks at you with panicked, wide eyes; scrambling back to her feet and running into the thick jungle.
>No way you're going to find her in there, and you don't intend to.
>You head in the opposite direction that she went, booking it back to the beach.

>Even though you're mildly dehydrated, haven't eaten in nearly two days, and tired, you sprint the entire way back to the beach, hopped up on adrenaline.
>When you get back to your camp, basically just a pile of luggage with a broken table leaning against a tree, you fall to the ground, coughing.
>Shit, this was BAD.
>Whatever or whoever that... THING was, she's probably going to go back to her home and get her friends.
>You were able to handle just one of them, but you didn't like your chances against more than two.
>At least it looked like she feared your gun.
>You had occasionally wondered if anything weird really lurked in the Bermuda Triangle, but lizard people was NOT one of your ideas.
>You sit next to the table for the next several minutes catching your breath, while wild theories about what the hell you just saw run through your head.
>Pulling the heavy suitcase with guns in it over to you, you unzip it, rifling through it for something more useful.
>For some reason, none of the weapons appear to be from the current decade.
>Some collector probably decided to bring his collection with him.
>That didn't explain why the suitcase was also loaded with ammo, though.
>You pull out an old Mossberg 500 with a wooden stock, loading it full of shells.
>If it could put some Asian rice farmers in the ground, you're pretty confident that it would do the same to a bunch of lizards.
>You stand up, but quickly fall back on your ass as a dizzy spell hits you.
>You should really eat something... The gnawing pain in your stomach grew every few minutes.
>Too bad there was fuck all to eat out here besides coconut, unless you wanted to dine on some raw crabs.
>Damn...
>Might as well eat a coconut... Normally, you couldn't stomach the shit, but mild starvation was making it sound like one of the best desserts in the world.
>You crack it open by shooting it open with the 1911.
>Pieces of coconut fly everywhere, but a large chunk is left intact.
>You scrape at it with your teeth, desperate to take nutrients into your body. You were going to need some energy for what you expected to happen in the next hour or so.

>You're laying on your stomach, the shotgun shouldered as you scan the edge of the jungle.
>So far, you hadn't seen any movement other than some birds.
>It's been at least an hour since you had encountered the Lizard Woman, and you were waiting for either her or another Lizard to possibly show up and retaliate.
>If you were being honest with yourself, you were pretty damn terrified.
>The last time you had fired a gun had been back when you were in the Army, during training.
>You had spent your three years stationed in Germany, where you just dicked around with the other soldiers and drank all day.
>You had never actually shot someone, and now that a time had come where you might have to, the thought of killing someone shook you up.
>Just as you think that maybe nobody's coming, you hear it.
>The sounds of shouting, slowly growing louder as someone approaches the coast.
>Shit!
>From out of the treeline pops a tall Lizard Man.
>He's wearing a vibrantly decorated headdress, and wearing a sort of brightly-colored fabric wrapped around his mid-section and legs, much like the female was.
>He's wearing several pieces of jewelry on his neck, arms, and legs, all made out of Jade or a similar stone.
>In his hands he holds a strange weapon.
>It looks sort of like a sword, but made of wood. Wedged in the sides of it are what looks like several shards of obsidian.
>Fuck. He was almost definitely a warrior of some kind.
>He spots you, a snarl forming on his face.
>You stand up, pointing the shotgun at him, shouting for him to stop.
>A couple more warriors dressed similarly with the same weapons come out of the jungle, keeping their distance.
>The Lizard Man in front of you says something slowly in his native language, pointing the obsidian weapon at you.
>You don't respond, backing up at the same pace he's approaching you at. No way were you gonna let him close the distance. That obsidian would shred your skin into ribbons.
>Suddenly, he shouts back at his companions, then turns to you with a wicked smile.
>He raises he weapon, and with a loud roar, charges at you.
>FUCK.
>You pull the trigger on your Mossberg 500, shooting the scaled warrior point blank, the buckshot shredding his bare torso.
>He flies back a few feet, and lands on his back, twitching.
>Blood coats the sand where he lays, and he sticks a shaking arm up at the sky, quietly whispering a few incomprehensible words, before the arm drops to the ground, dead.
>Oh, shit! You killed him! You fucking KILLED HIM!
>The other two warriors call out, looking shocked at the sudden death of their ally.
>One of them shouts at the other, before booking it back into the jungle.
>The remaining Lizard Man looks rattled, but still holds his weapon in a threatening manner.
>He takes a couple short steps closer to you, his eyes locked onto your face.
>You rack the shotgun, a shell popping out and landing in the sand. The Lizard Man freezes.
>You yell at him to fuck off, but he just stares at you. Well, atleast he stopped moving.
>Still looking at you in the eyes, he inches forward until he reaches the body of his companion.
>Looking at you, he drops his weapon into the bloodied sand.
>He crouches down and gives the corpse a quick once-over, a horrified look on his face.
>The shotgun blast completely obliterated the Warrior's midsection. It almost reminds you of the time you dissected frogs in middle school.
>The Lizard Man stands back up and looks at you, a cautious look in his eye, and begins to speak.
>It's a pretty strange sounding language. It sounds very alien to you, but almost familiar... Like some of the words are almost recognizable.
>He finishes whatever it is he's saying, and stares at you with a worried look.
>When you don't respond, he leans back down and grabs the stiff arm of his fallen comrade.
>He begins to quickly drag the dead Lizard Man through the sand, leaving a furrow of blood-stained sand.
>Just in case he tries anything, you keep the shotgun trained on him as he leaves with the body.
>After a minute or so, he disappears back into the canopy.
>You remain vigilant, looking and listening for any more scaled soldiers.
>When you're certain that nobody else is around, you finally lower the gun, sighing.
>Well, that could have gone better. Over the course of the day you've both encountered and made enemies with a previously unknown species of bipedal lizards. Somehow you didn't think this was going to end well for you.
 
>You sit in your makeshift camp, stomach still grumbling with hunger. You have the shotgun close at hand, propped up next to you.
>It was almost nighttime, and you feared what sunset would bring.
>Would they try to rush you while you slept? Or would they stay away, afraid of another death?
>Either way, you had to sleep eventually.
>You let out a sigh, partially from worry, and partially from hunger.
>Your mind drifts back to the last "real" meal you had. A double cheeseburger back on the cruise ship. A staple of the average American diet.
>Dammit, what you wouldn't do for a burger right now.
>A soft wind blows across the empty beach, chilling you.
>The wind was broken once it hit the edge of the jungle, but there was no way in hell you were going back in there. You would rather freeze.
>Worried thoughts surge through your mind.
>How are you going to get more water? Are you going to starve to death? Are you going to get ass-raped by a Lizard Man?
>All of them are worryingly valid concerns right now.
>You rub your oily, unwashed face, fatigue spreading through your body.
>No way were you going to get any restful sleep tonight.
>You stand up, grabbing the Shotgun and the 1911.
>You were going to walk along the shore and see if there was a more concealed place to sleep. No way were you going to sleep where the Lizard warriors had encountered you.
>The stretch of beach you're on isn't very large, and as you walk you're soon met by a cliff-face stretching out into the water
>You head in the other direction, but turn back after 10 minutes when you can't find anything. You didn't want to stray too far away from your camp.
>Damn!
>You go back to your camp, and sit down in the sand.
>Until you find a safer place, you don't think that it would be a good idea to sleep.
>You decide to simply try and stay up all night.
>You sit down on the cold sand, leaning up against the ribbed bark of a palm tree.
>You hold your shotgun in your lap, finger resting behind the trigger. Just in case.
>Sitting up, you wait for the sun to rise.
>This should be fine. All you had to do was not close your eyes.
>Yeah, this was going to be easy staying awake.
>You sit there on the beach while the cool tropical breeze washes over you.
>It seems like each time you blink, opening your eyes back up just gets harder and harder.
>You decide it couldn't hurt to rest your eyes for just a minute or two.
>You had better self control than to let yourself just fall asleep. Right?
 
>Your eyes open, and you sit back up in your chair.
>You're sitting in your room, browsing 4chan.
>You take a sip of some Dr. Pepper™, before yawning.
>You must have dozed off for a second there.
>Ugh, how late was it?
>Looking at the clock on your computer, you can see that it's nearly 1 A.M.
>Shit, you were up later than you thought.
>You should -probably- get some sleep.
>You close the thread, and shut off your PC.
>Getting up, you toss the empty can of Dr. Pepper™ into the trash.
>Looking back at your bed, you can see your >GF sleeping peacefully.
>You walk into the bathroom and do your daily before-bed rituals; brushing your teeth, taking a quick shower, and emptying your bladder.
>Stepping back into your bedroom, you ease under the warm covers of your bed.
>You ease up next to the sleeping form next to you, your hands resting on it's scaly skin.
>Wait a goddamn minute.
>You didn't have a girlfriend! Let alone one covered in scales!
>Wait, weren't you stranded on a fucking island or something?!
>Oh, SHIT!
>You rip back the covers, revealing the form next to you.
>You scream.
>It's the corpse of the Lizard Man you killed.
>You flop out of bed, your head hitting the floor.
 
>You wake up with a start, still screaming.
>Your limbs jerk upwards, the shotgun suddenly pointing into the air.
>In your confusion, you pull the trigger, sending buckshot hurtling high into the trees.
>Unprepared for the sudden blast, the shotgun hurtles out of your loose grip.
>You quickly stand up, freaking out.
>Holy hell! What the shit just happened!?
>That was one shitty dream! For a second there you thought you were safe back at home...
>Damn... Home.
>You think about what your parents must be thinking.
>There's no doubt about it that the disappearance of the cruise ship has been noticed by now. It's been over half a week, and the cruise ship was supposed to arrive in the Caribbean after only a couple days.
>Maybe they were already planning your funeral. Shit...
>A tear forms in your eyes, but you manage to restrain yourself. No use in crying about it now. The first thing you were going to do when you got out of here was call your Mom.
>Groaning, you walk over to where the shotgun landed a few feet away.
>You pick it back up, holding it against your chest.
>You sit back down, your back against the tree.
>Well, if any Lizard people had been watching you, hopefully they were scared off by the shotgun blast.
>After the "fun" you just had, you were wide awake.
>Hopefully you didn't fall asleep again.
 
>When dawn finally breaks, you're treated to the sight of a tropical sunrise over the ocean.
>It would have been beautiful if you weren't shipwrecked on an island.
>You had managed to make it through the rest of the night without dozing off.
>Good job, self. Now you were thirsty, hungry, AND tired! The perfect combo in a survival situation.
>You slowly stand up, hunger pains eating away at your stomach.
>You must have lost at least 10 pounds since you got stranded here. Granted, most of it was probably water weight, but still.
>By now, you were well accustomed with the sound of your stomach grumbling.
>You barely have the strength to start moving, but you know that you have to.
>You leave the shotgun sitting in the sand. It just seemed so heavy...
>You raise an arm to shield your face from the sun. You had a pretty bad headache, and the sunlight was just making it worse.
>Stepping into the shade of the jungle, you sit down on a rock near the treeline.
>It was still very humid, but atleast the sun was out of your eyes.
>You sit there for a short time, your head hanging limply from fatigue.
>Suddenly, you hear a rustling in the brush near you.
>You look up just in time to see several of the Lizard People rushing you.
>You try to reach for your gun, but realize that you left it at camp right before they reach you.
>You're tackled, being thrown onto the ground.
>You try to start throwing punches, but you're quickly pinned.
>It's hard to put up a decent fight when you're half-starved.
>The Lizard Man pinning you yells something at his comrades, and one of them quickly rushes forward with a length of rope.
>You try your best to kick and squirm, but it's no use. Within a couple minutes, both your feet and hands are bound.
>They laugh when they realize that they've successfully captured you.
>One of them viciously kicks you in the chest. Hard.
>Furious, you shout at them, calling them every four letter word that you can think of.
>They mostly ignore you, seeming to be discussing something with each other.
>After a moment, all of them stop speaking, their eyes fixed on you.
>A couple of them pick you up by the arms and legs, and begin to carry you through the thick jungle, leafs and sticks batting against your unprotected face.
>They ignore your cries of protest, and so you soon stop. You don't really even have the energy to put up a struggle anyways. You're so tired...
>You all of a sudden feel sick to your stomach, and vomit up some clear bile.
>The puke splashes against one of the Lizard Men, causing him to drop your arms as he angrily shouts something at you.
>You ignore him as your vision starts to act funny. You can see spots of darkness dance across your vision.
>Your head begins to swim, and before you know it, you fall unconscious.