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Night had fallen over Aralith Island, a dark, suffocating shroud covering the dense wilderness. The trees cast long, menacing shadows, their skeletal branches swaying and whispering in the restless wind. But this was no ordinary stillness. Somewhere, deep in the jungle, a hunt was in progress.
A young girl ran, her breath ragged, her chest burning with exhaustion. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst through her ribs. Bare feet hit the damp earth, but the jungle floor was cruel - thorns sliced into her skin, roots twisted beneath her steps. She felt the pain. But pain didn't matter. The only thing that stood between her and death was speed. Behind her, the hunters gave chase.
Then a deafening roar shattered the night. The growl of an engine, the guttural hum of a pickup truck tearing through the forest, closing in on her. The truck's headlights sliced through the darkness, illuminating the pursuit. Two men stood in the back of the truck, silhouetted in the blinding light. In their hands were chains, hooks and iron bars. Their eyes shone with hunger. Their evil grins stretched wide, feeding on the thrill of the hunt.
"Run faster, sweetheart!" one of them taunted, his voice twisted with amusement. The other threw his head back and howled - not like a man, but like a beast. "Look at her go! She's terrified! Just how I like them!" The driver grinned, his hands tightening on the wheel as he swerved along the winding path, one hand slamming against the dashboard. "Don't catch them too soon! We want to enjoy this!"
She gritted her teeth, willed her body to move faster. But she was losing strength. The truck lurched forward, picking up speed. The blinding headlights blinded her vision. Then a chain snapped through the air. It hit the ground inches from her feet. "Almost got her! Shall I try again, boys?" Laughter erupted behind her. The truck came closer.
And then - it happened. Her foot caught on something-a root, a rock, maybe even fate itself. Time slowed. Her body lurched forward. She crashed to the cold, damp ground, the air ripped from her lungs. The ground was wet, but underneath, a jagged stone bit into her skin. Pain exploded through her body. The truck skidded to a stop a few feet away.
She gasped and pressed her trembling hands into the dirt, trying to push herself up. But her legs - they refused to move. Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Certain. The men jumped off the truck, their boots crunching on the dirt. They were calm. Smiling. Like predators who knew their prey had nowhere to run. One of them dragged his chain along the ground, the metallic rattle a cruel song in the still night.
"You want to keep running, sweetheart?" he sneered. "Come on, give us some more fun." The other held something worse. A long metal bar. At its end a steel sling. A fishing rod. The man twisted it lazily in his hands, tilting his head in mock concern. "Tired, aren't you?" he cooed. "Go on, lie down. The night's just beginning."
She tried to crawl back, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. The man raised the pole. She flinched. A last, desperate attempt to escape. But - the metal noose tightened around her throat. In that moment-the prey had fallen.
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The darkness of the night was pierced by the girl's uneven, anxious breaths. Her long, dark brown hair was disheveled, damp strands clinging to her sweat-soaked skin. A few stray strands had fallen across her forehead, mingling with the moisture trickling down her pale cheeks. Though her face was drained of color by fear, a stubborn trace of defiance remained on her lips. Her delicate yet chiseled features bore the exhaustion of her ordeal, but her eyes still burned with a flicker of determination.
Her once innocent white bikini top, with its floral detail, seemed like a fragile remnant of the peaceful world from which she had been torn. Her black shorts were torn from the frantic escape, stained with mud and dust. Her body was marked by the brutal journey - scrapes, bruises, and evidence of being dragged through unforgiving terrain. But the most painful mark was the red ring around her neck. The cruel grip of the catching rod had left its mark, the raw, inflamed skin around her neck a silent testimony to the agony it had inflicted. Even breathing was a torture.
Her legs trembled. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as if to protect herself from what lay ahead. Her entire body shook with exhaustion, but she forced herself to remain still. She refused to let them see her weakness.
The hunters were heading for the truck when one of them slapped the metal bars of the cage with an open palm. "Look at her shake," the man sneered, his laughter carrying a cruel edge. "Scared, but still proud. I think Varro will like that."
Another stepped closer, pressing his face against the cage. "But maybe we should have a little taste first, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement. "We wouldn't want her to go to Varro all stiff and lifeless, would we?"
Her stomach twisted. Her fingers tightened around the iron bars, not out of fear - but to maintain control, to keep herself from breaking. Their sick laughter echoed through the night.
She forced her gaze away from them, letting it sink into the darkness beyond. There had to be a way out. There had to be. But how?
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The scream that pierced the night
The girl's scream broke the silence of the night. Alyssa watched from the shadows, silent and unseen. Her eyes, honed by survival, had adapted to the darkness. She no longer fought the night; she was part of it. Hidden among the trees, she remained still - muscles taut, breathing controlled. She knew that the slightest mistake could turn the hunter into the hunted. But there was nothing she could do about it.
The girl trapped inside the cage struggled desperately, but the cold, unyielding metal held her in place. Her desperate movements were met only by cruel laughter - mocking, taunting. The men grinned at each other, amusement thick in the damp air.
Alyssa had seen this before. Too many times. For a year, she had watched this nightmare play out over and over again. And the worst part? She had once been that girl. Her mind betrayed her, pulling her back into the past - back to when she first arrived on this cursed island.
The Illusion of Paradise
When Alyssa first arrived on the island of Aralith, everything seemed perfect. The sea stretched endlessly in mesmerizing shades of blue, the sand was soft and warm beneath her feet, and the surrounding forest was lush and alive. Untouched. It was unlike any place they had visited before. Here it was just them and nature - nothing else.
She and her five friends had dreamed about this trip for years. They imagined long, carefree days of adventure, sun-drenched afternoons by the water, and nights filled with laughter. The remoteness of the island made it all the more special.
Alyssa vividly remembered their first night. They toasted with champagne, danced barefoot in the sand, and lost themselves in the magic of the sunset. As dusk fell, they gathered around a roaring campfire, their conversations light and carefree, their world still untouched by fear. They had no idea then that this island was a death trap.
The guide who had brought them here had left them in what appeared to be a beautiful beachfront villa - spacious, modern, yet somehow... eerily abandoned. Alyssa could still remember the exhilaration she felt lying on her back that first night, looking up at the stars. "This trip is going to be amazing," she thought. But that same night, the nightmare began.
The night all hell broke loose
As the night wore on, an unsettling feeling began to creep in. At first, it was just faint rustling outside, easily dismissed as the wind moving through the trees. Then distant, muffled sounds, barely audible, like whispers, carried through the night. No one thought much of it.
But then... they came. At first, they were just shadows in the distance. Silent figures surrounding the villa, barely visible in the dim moonlight. Then the glint of weapons. The clanking of chains. The cold glow of flashlights. And then a voice - loud, commanding, and merciless. "Come out! Now!"
In an instant, chaos exploded. Windows shattered. Doors were kicked in. The air filled with the sickening crunch of glass breaking under force. And then - fire. Something was thrown through the shattered windows - bottles filled with an acrid, burning liquid. Within seconds, the mansion was ablaze. Curtains ignited, furniture crackled as flames consumed everything in sight. Thick smoke billowed into the air, making every breath an agony. The walls groaned under the heat, wood splintering and cracking as the fire spread mercilessly.
Alyssa and her friends had little time to react. Panic broke out. They ran, they screamed, they crashed into each other. They couldn't stay inside. But outside... it was worse. Screams. Screams. The sickening sound of bodies colliding. Alyssa turned for just a second-long enough to see one of her friends being dragged away.
A piercing scream. Another thud as someone was knocked down. It happened too fast. Then instinct took over. Run! She grabbed Bonnia's hand, feeling an unnatural power surge through her body. They had to run. Behind them, the world burned. Behind them, the men roared in victory. Behind them, their friends fell. But ahead of them, only darkness. So they ran deep into the jungle, never looking back.
The Breaking Point
That night, they lost everything: their friends, their belongings, any chance of escape. Their first days in the jungle were filled with confusion and desperation. They searched for help, but their phones were useless. They followed the shore for days, hoping to see a passing boat, another person - anyone. But there was nothing. It was as if they had been wiped out of existence. As time passed, survival became a nightmare. Hunger. Exhaustion. Their cries for help were met with silence.
At first, they clung to hope. Surely someone would come looking for them. But the weeks passed. And no one came. And Bonnia began to fade. The light in her eyes faded. Her voice lost its strength. It wasn't just her body that was breaking; it was her spirit. Alyssa tried - God, she tried. She pushed her to stay strong. She found food, shared her dwindling supplies. But Bonnia slipped away. And one morning, when Alyssa awoke, she was gone. No breath. No movement. Just cold, lifeless silence. In that moment, Alyssa made a promise. She would survive. This island would not be her tomb.
The cycle of survival
Alyssa had spent years fighting to survive on this cursed island. And now, once again, she was forced to witness one of its most terrifying moments. Just like her, another girl had fallen into their trap. For a fleeting second, she considered doing something. To intervene. To stop it. But the men were too many. And if she made the wrong move... she wouldn't be the only one to die. So she stayed in the shadows, watching. Calculating. Because there was one thing she knew for certain. Tonight would not be the end. This island was still not her tomb. And those men? They would meet the fate they deserved. Just like the other hunters Alyssa had killed to survive. Into the darkness.
Alyssa moved with precision, her steps quiet and controlled. The deeper she ventured into the forest, the more the night engulfed her. Moonlight barely trickled through the dense canopy, casting faint silver streaks on the ground. The distant crash of waves broke the eerie silence, mingled with the whisper of the wind as it slipped through the leaves.
Her mind replayed the scene over and over - the girl's screams, the hunters' laughter, the cold bite of metal tightening around a fragile throat. No matter how many times she saw it, it never stopped feeling like a punch in the gut.
But she couldn't afford to stop now. There was someone else to save. Somewhere in this forest, the girl's friend was hiding. Alyssa's sharp eyes scanned her surroundings as she moved, every shadow a potential threat.
And then - she saw her.
A small, trembling figure huddled between the gnarled roots of a massive tree. Mia. The girl clutched her knees to her chest, her body rigid with fear. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her wide eyes darting around in pure terror. Every part of her screamed flight, but her body had betrayed her, frozen in panic.
Alyssa crouched beside her, moving cautiously. She put her hands on her knees and lowered herself to Mia's eye level. "We have to go. Now." Her voice was firm, but not unkind.
Mia's head snapped up. Her tear streaked face met Alyssa's unwavering gaze. "But... my friend?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper - fragile, desperate, broken.
Alyssa held her gaze. There was no easy way to say this. But on this island, the truth was never kind. "They took her."
Mia's breath caught. "No... no, no, no..." She shook her head frantically, denial overtaking her. Her entire body tensed, her mind refusing to accept what had just happened. "I have to go back! I have to..."
Alyssa grabbed her arm before she could run. Her grip was firm, unyielding. "No. If you go back now, you'll die too."
Mia's eyes filled with tears. Alyssa took a deep breath and steadied herself. She understood. She knew exactly what it felt like-the helplessness, the pain, the crushing weight of loss. But right now, Mia had to survive.
"If you want to live, come with me. Now."
"But..."
"Now!"
Still trembling, Mia looked into Alyssa's eyes. And for a fleeting second, she saw something there - an unbreakable will, a force that had endured unspeakable horrors and still refused to die. She swallowed hard, hesitating only a moment. Then she turned one last time, casting a last glance in the direction of her lost friend. But there was nothing there for her.
So she followed Alyssa into the darkness. There was no turning back.
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