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The sea was so still that it looked like glass - unbroken and endless, reflecting the pale blue sky with eerie precision. Naomi laughed as she stepped into the shallows, the sunlight catching on her legs, her skin glistening with salt and spray.
"Look at that," she called back. "It's like the world has stopped."
Linda crouched at the water's edge, her eyes scanning the wet sand. Then she saw it.
A mark.
Not a footprint.
Not the track of any animal she recognised.
It was too straight. Too deliberate.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Naomi walked closer and snapped a quick photo with her phone. "Maybe it's from a snake or something," she offered, but her tone lacked conviction. She stared at the mark for a moment, then looked up, suddenly quiet.
Neither of them said what they were thinking.
Something felt... wrong.
This was the day they decided to head inland.
The map had already proved to be useless. The paths didn't add up. Landmarks were missing. The stream they were supposed to find never appeared. So they left the map in the tent, tucked under a bottle of water, as if it might come in handy later.
They packed lightly - just snacks, water, notebooks and their mobile phones.
As they moved inland, the forest grew denser. The space between the trees narrowed. Thick trunks rose like natural pillars on either side, stretching into a canopy so thick the sun barely touched the ground. The air grew warmer, heavier. Their clothes clung to their backs. Insects buzzed occasionally, but even those sounds came in short bursts, as if the forest couldn't decide whether it wanted to be alive or not.
Naomi pushed ahead, machete in hand, her energy unflagging. Linda followed more cautiously, stopping occasionally to mark her trail with small pieces of cloth.
After nearly two hours, the trees suddenly broke open into a wide clearing.
And there, in the middle, stood a stone pillar.
It wasn't massive. Chest-high, maybe. Rough around the edges, cracked with age, the top slightly slanted. Moss clung to its base, but the stone itself had clearly been shaped by human hands.
Naomi approached first. Of course she did.
Linda remained at the edge of the clearing, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Naomi..." she said cautiously. "Do you really think we should touch this?"
Naomi knelt beside the stone and ran her fingers over the surface. The texture was smoother than it looked - weathered, but deliberately so. There were faded grooves across its surface. Not quite letters. Not quite symbols. Just enough to suggest meaning, but not enough to read.
"It's probably just an old marker," Naomi said, not looking up. "Maybe someone surveyed this land long ago. Could even be from early explorers."
Linda didn't move.
"I don't like this," she said quietly.
Naomi looked back. "What, the stone?"
"No. This." She gestured around the clearing. "The silence. The air. Something's wrong."
Naomi stood and looked around. The clearing was still - completely still. No wind. No birds. Even the buzzing insects had fallen silent.
It wasn't unnatural. It just felt... wrong.
Like walking into a room you thought was empty and realising someone had been sitting in the dark, just listening.
Naomi exhaled slowly. "Maybe we're just not used to so much nothing."
Linda crossed her arms more tightly. "No. This isn't just 'nothing'. This is something. I don't know what, but it's here."
They stood there in the clearing, both listening - to what neither could say. It was as if their ears were tuned to something just below the surface.
"I don't think we're the first people to come here," Linda said at last.
Naomi looked back at the pillar. "No," she said. "We're definitely not."
They didn't stay long. They took photographs. Naomi made a rough sketch in her notebook. Linda documented the location with GPS coordinates - although they'd stopped trusting the readings.
As they walked back to camp, neither said much.
The forest seemed narrower. The air a little heavier.
It wasn't fear, exactly.
But it was something close.
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The sea shimmered like glass, barely moving, reflecting the sky in an immaculate sheet of blue. The only sounds were distant birdsong and the faint rustle of the wind through the leaves. Tom crouched at the edge of a small patch of woodland near the shore, inspecting the ground for a better place to pitch their tent. They were four days in and he wanted something more secure. Or maybe just something that felt a little more... grounded.
The sun was drifting west, painting everything a warm gold.
Nothing about the island had seemed strange during their research. In fact, that had been part of what had drawn them here - the mystery. The lack of information. A blank spot on the map. A rare opportunity for something that didn't come pre-packaged with brochures and day-trip plans.
Tom and Jessica were tired of crowded beaches and overpriced cocktails. They wanted something different this summer.
And they got it.
Jessica's footsteps approached softly behind him. Her damp hair clung softly to her shoulders and the blouse she had thrown on after her swim was drying quickly in the heat. She draped her wet skirt over a low-hanging branch, then crossed her arms and came to stand beside him.
"I swear, if this turns into some kind of DIY Survivor competition, I'm going in the ocean," she said, raising an eyebrow.
Tom chuckled without looking up. "Hey, we're fine. Nobody's starving. Nobody's got food poisoning. No mutant spiders have tried to eat us."
"Yet," Jessica muttered.
He looked up, grinning. "Yet."
She looked out towards the shore. "Still, don't you think it's strange? This place is beautiful. Clean beach, perfect weather, fresh water... and not a sign of anyone. Not a footprint. No fireplace. Nothing."
Tom paused, then shrugged. "Maybe it's one of those places people avoid because it's hard to get to. Or maybe it really is undiscovered. We could be the first people ever to camp here."
Jessica laughed briefly, but the unease didn't quite leave her face. "I don't know. It's too clean. No wrappers, no broken bottles, no rusted cans. Not even a piece of driftwood."
Tom crouched down again and began to clear the stones from a flat patch of sand. "Maybe we just got lucky. This could be one of those pristine places - no crowds, no noise, no Instagram tags. Just us."
Jessica scanned the tree line. The wind stirred the branches slightly, but the forest was still.
"We'll see," she said quietly.
Tom looked over his shoulder. "Are you afraid?"
She crossed her arms more tightly. "You can't scare me, little brother."
Tom grinned. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Because honestly, the scariest thing around here is your hair in the morning."
Jessica laughed under her breath. "Just get the tent up. I might reward you later."
He raised an eyebrow. "Reward me how?"
"You'll see. Maybe." She walked off towards the trees with a smug grin.
Tom sighed and went to work.
By the time the tent was finally up - slightly crooked, but holding - the sun had begun to sink low. The warm light faded and the breeze grew cooler. Jessica lay on the sand a few metres away, wiggling her toes and watching the sky change colour.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Tom turned to her. "All done. You may rest now, Your Majesty."
Jessica squinted at him. "I have to say, I'm really impressed. That's a solid... six out of ten."
"Harsh critic."
"Hold your applause," she said, sitting up. "Because I promised you a surprise."
Tom raised an eyebrow, curious.
Jessica got to her feet and ducked into the tent. A few seconds later she emerged holding a small silver thermos.
He blinked. "Is that...?"
She unscrewed the lid and handed it to him. "Ice cold lemonade."
He took it as if it were a holy relic. "You absolute genius."
She shrugged. "I put a tiny ice pack and some drinks in the bottom of my bag before we left. You're lucky to be stranded with someone who thinks ahead."
Tom took a long drink, his eyes closing in bliss. "OK. I admit it. You win."
Jessica stood tall, arms folded like a champion. "As always."
They sat side by side near the tent, taking turns sipping from the thermos. The sky had turned a soft crimson, the edges of the trees glowing gold. The sea stretched endlessly before them, still untouched, still silent.
Neither of them said it out loud.
But they both thought it.
This place was beginning to feel less like an adventure... and more like a question that no one had yet asked.
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The forest had thickened with the onset of evening. The air was cooler now, the light slipping slowly between the dense layers of green. Every step crunched softly underfoot - soft leaves, twigs, old earth. Birds, once active and chattering, had fallen silent. In their place was a silence that grew heavier with each passing minute.
Martin moved with cautious steps, his torch in his hand but still unlit. The last rays of the sun were enough for now, but not for long. Just ahead of him, Lena walked with calm, almost playful steps. Her pace wasn't urgent - if anything, she seemed to be dragging out time.
"Lena," Martin called softly, a hint of tension in his voice. "We don't have much further to go. It'll be dark soon. We should head back."
She turned to look over her shoulder. The light touched her face in warm golden tones, and a small smile danced on her lips - charming, soft, and just a little bit knowing.
"I know," she said, pausing. "But we've never been here before. I saw it marked on the old map. I just... want to see what's here. Just a little further."
Martin sighed, not objecting. He'd seen this side of Lena before - that mixture of curiosity and quiet defiance. She had a way of making wandering feel deliberate. But today something felt different.
She wasn't just exploring. She was... extending something.
Stretching it out.
And Martin wasn't sure what it was he wanted to name.
But he kept on walking. He knew about Lena's friendship with Diana - close, longstanding. And maybe that was why she felt so comfortable around him. Maybe. But lately things had changed. The way she looked at him. The pauses. The softness in her tone that hadn't always been there.
It wasn't overt.
But it was enough to notice.
They walked a little further until Lena stopped suddenly, her eyes brightening.
"Look," she said, holding out her arm.
Through a break in the trees, the forest opened up to reveal a pond. Quiet, hidden, surrounded by moss-covered rocks. The water was glassy and still, disturbed only by the occasional ripple when a leaf fell or the wind stirred.
Lena stepped forward, slowly, reverently. The light caught in her hair. She stared at the pond as if it had whispered her name.
"It's beautiful," she said, her voice deep and dreamy.
Martin was standing behind her, watching. "Yes," he said quietly. "It really is."
She kicked off her shoes and tapped them lightly on the floor. A small, deliberate movement. Then, in a tone too soft to be casual, she said, "I think I'll go in. Just for a minute."
Martin looked at her, studying her face.
She wasn't looking at the water any more.
There was something else - a deeper glint in her eyes. Not playfulness. Not teasing. Something... expectant. A kind of subtle provocation. Subtle, but unmistakable.
"It looks like it would wash away the whole day," she added, almost as if speaking to herself.
Martin's chest tightened. He looked back at the pond, then back at Lena. Her posture was relaxed, her arms relaxed at her sides, her gaze almost innocent.
But he knew it wasn't just about the water.
And she knew that he knew.
He looked away and let out a slow breath. "You'll get cold," he said.
"I won't stay long."
Still, she didn't move. She was waiting - maybe for an answer, maybe for permission.
Martin took a step back, not towards the camp, but away from her. He didn't dare get too close.
She was beautiful, yes. Warm. Alive. The kind of person who made the air feel different when she entered a room.
But she wasn't his.
And that mattered more than anything.
He kept his voice even. "Let's not stay here too long."
Lena gave a small nod, then walked closer to the edge of the pond and knelt beside it. She ran her fingers over the surface, watching the ripples spread.
Martin stood back, his hands in his pockets.
It was peaceful.
And complicated.
And far too quiet.
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The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky aglow with purples and deep reds. A breeze blew through the trees, soft and cool, ruffling the leaves before drifting out to sea. In the centre of the campsite, the fire crackled, casting flickers of orange and gold across the faces gathered around it. It was a quiet evening - quiet, but with an undercurrent of something heavier.
Diana sat closest to the flames, her eyes fixed on the darkening forest. Martin and Lena had been gone for hours. She trusted them, of course. Martin never lost his way, and Lena was capable and alert. Still, unease had begun to settle in her chest like smoke.
Carter crouched nearby and added another log to the fire. The smoke spiralled upwards, twisting in the fading light.
"They're probably all right," he said. "Martin knows this terrain better than any of us. If Lena's with him, they're not lost."
Diana nodded, but her eyes didn't leave the trees. "I know. It's just... they didn't say how long they'd be gone."
Across the fire, Samantha stretched out on the floor, her arms behind her head, her hair falling over her shoulders. The flames cast sharp shadows across her calm face.
"You know how Lena is," she said lazily. "When she finds something interesting, time stops existing. She's probably off somewhere, naming plants or collecting rocks."
Diana allowed herself a small smile. "She loses herself easily."
The silence didn't last long.
Daniel's voice broke it, laced with amusement.
"Or maybe," he said, leaning closer, "Martin and Lena aren't just 'wandering'. Maybe they're enjoying each other's company in a more... intimate way."
Diana's head turned sharply. The warmth in her face was replaced by fire.
"What are you suggesting, Daniel?"
Daniel raised both hands, his smile calm, his voice too casual.
"Nothing serious. Just... two attractive people alone in the forest? These things happen. Especially when one of them is married and the other knows how to laugh at his jokes."
Diana stood still, but her jaw clenched.
Samantha sat up, her tone suddenly sharp. "Stop. Martin is Diana's husband. Lena is my best friend. Keep your twisted little theories to yourself."
Diana took a slow breath, choosing her words carefully.
"I trust my husband. And I trust Lena. That's the difference between you and me - I believe in loyalty."
Daniel's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. Everyone's loyal. Especially in long-term relationships. Feelings never drift. People never lie - do they?"
Diana's voice was icy. "The fact that you feel that way says everything about you."
Carter interrupted, feeling the flames shift from orange to red. "All right, that's enough. Daniel, calm down."
Daniel shrugged and leaned back. "Hey, I'm just making observations. People don't always say what they really feel. Sometimes not even to themselves."
That was it.
Diana stood up. "I need some air."
"Diana-" Carter called after her, standing as well.
She didn't stop walking. He caught up quickly, falling into step beside her as they moved into the silence beyond the firelight.
"Don't let him get to you," Carter said gently. "You know how he is. He pushes because he's empty."
Diana exhaled, trying to slow her breathing. "It's not just him. It's the thought. That something like that could cross my mind, even for a second."
"He's looking for cracks. That's what he does. But you know who Martin is. And Lena. They're not him."
She nodded, watching the sea between the trees. The breeze tugged at her hair, cool against her heated skin.
"Still," she said quietly, "isn't it strange how even unfounded doubts can echo so loudly?"
"You are strong, Diana," Carter said. "Too strong for this kind of poison. When Martin gets back, this will all go away."
A weary smile tugged at her lips. "I hope so."
They turned and walked slowly back to the fire.
Daniel hadn't moved.
He sat with his arms hanging loosely over his knees, his eyes fixed on the path Diana had taken.
"She's so sure," he murmured to no one in particular. "But even the surest of minds... they all change. Eventually."
Samantha stared at him, her expression stone.
"Leave them alone," she said softly. "And Martin too."
Daniel looked at her and smiled - not warmly, not nicely. Just... amused.
"I'm not doing anything, Samantha. Time will do the rest."
She turned away, jaw clenched, the firelight dancing in her eyes.
But something cold settled in her chest.
Because deep down... she knew he wasn't finished.
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