The island was not large, but not small either. It was surrounded by rocky crags that made it impossible to land. Davidson paddled with his hands. They were red and cracked. Suddenly he saw a beach with a forest behind it. He couldn’t restrain his joy. Michaels and Anderson were on the beach! He slid off the piece of wood and swam towards the shore. Michaels waded into the water and helped him out.
“Thank God, Davidson.” Michaels sighed.
“How did you escape?”
“We snatched an escape boat off the ship. Anderson crashed us on a crag, and we had to swim to shore.”
“I did not. The current swept us there. There was nothing I could do.” said Anderson.
“When did you wake?” asked Davidson.
“Shortly after the engine room blew. Have you seen Lewis?” answered Anderson.
“No sign of him.”“Did you at least fetch your gun?” asked Davidson.
“Yes. And the cartridges too. We’ll have to hunt here.” answered Michaels.
“Anderson, did you take the survival kit?”
“Yes. There’s flint and first aid equipment.”
“Did anyone else make it?”
“Not that we know of.”

Davidson looked out to the sea. His shirt was soaked, and his trousers as well. But what worried him the most is that Lewis was still out there, along with the rest of the crew. It was already dusk. The sun was disappearing behind the horizon and they needed to build a fire to dry themselves.
“Michaels, see if there is anything nearby that could be eaten. Anderson will build a shelter. I will fetch firewood.”
“Yes, sir.”


Then there sounded an eerie howl. It came from the center of the island. Everyone froze and looked in that direction. It came from the dark forest that surrounded them. The moon was a crescent overhead.


The howl came again, closer this time. Michaels dropped his small pile of roots and berries and leaped for the metal case. Anderson opened the survival kit and threw Davidson a knife. Davidson whittled a sharp end on two thick branches that he found and kept one and threw the other to Anderson. Michaels stood up, his rifle loaded. Everyone’s gaze was pointed to one spot in the woods. The howl came from right in front of them. Suddenly, a black shape leaped at Michaels. Michaels shot twice, and the animal came down, wounded but not dead. Three of it’s comrades emerged from the forest. The four black creatures, similar to wolves, but much larger circled around our group. They had fangs about six inches long. The fangs glinted in the moonlight. Michaels reloaded his gun. The wounded creature was limping. Davidson thrust with his spear, and the black creatures retreated somewhat. Then one of the creatures leaped at Anderson. Anderson thrust his spear, got lucky, and impaled the creature in the air. He pulled his spear out of the carcass and returned his attention to the creatures. The creatures charged at them. Michaels shot the wounded one with both bullets, and it went down. Davidson dived towards a creature, and wrestled with it, before thrusting the knife under its ribs. Two strikes ended the wretched monster’s life. The last animal had charged at Anderson. He threw his spear, but it missed. The creature bit down on his leg. He screamed. The pain was jarring. Anderson saw black dots appear before his eyes. Vaguely he heard a gunshot and the crushing pain ceased. came back to reality. Davidson was treating him.
“It looks worse than it is. The fangs were the worst part.”


The dressings stung him. Anderson stood up, but the pain was extreme. He sat again. In the meantime Davidson had set up a fire. The fire was crackling and the flames devoured the wood greedily.

The trees were black skeletons against the dark sky. By now the sun had set, and there were stars in the sky. But the fire was the only comforting thing in this place of darkness. The fire meant shelter and safety. The men huddled around the fire, which illuminated the forest around them. Behind them, the path they had taken from the beach was clearly visible. The forest was full of ferns, and young saplings. The trees surrounding them were oaks and maples, big towering trees that overlooked the forest. After about half an hour, Anderson stood up, wincing.
“I think I’ll turn in for the night.”


He took a blanket out of the survival kit and threw it over a patch of grass some ten feet from the fire.
“What do you think of this place?” asked Michaels.
“What?” asked Davidson.
“You know, of this island.”
“Michaels, I have no particular feelings towards this island other than the strong one that I want to leave as soon as I can.”
“Doesn’t anything ever thrill you?”
“Thrill me? We’re trapped on a deserted island, apart from carnivorous wolf-like creatures and thousands of trees, and you’re asking if it thrills me?!”
“Yeah.”
“Well, my only answer to that would be no.”
“When we arrived, we caught a glimpse of what looked like a large cliff in the distance, overlooking the entire island. I suggest that we make our course that way.”
“How far was it?”
“About one, no, two days walk.”
“Then we will head towards this cliff. I think that I will turn in as well.”


Davidson set up his sleeping area five feet away from Anderson’s. He fell asleep almost instantly, and the world faded into darkness.


In the morning, he was woken up by a yell.
“Davidson, Michaels! Get up!”
“What is it?” asked Michaels.
“Lewis is on the beach!”


Davidson shot up and ran towards the beach. There he saw Lewis, sprawled on the sand on top of a piece of wood.
“Anderson, fetch the first aid kit. Michaels, you go set up a fire.”

Anderson came limping out of the forest, first aid kit in hand.
“He must have washed up during the night.” said Anderson.
“Anderson, is there ammonia in the kit?” asked Davidson.
“Yes.”

After smelling it, Lewis woke up.
“Where am I?” asked Lewis.
“On an island.” answered Davidson.
“Davidson?”
“Yeah. What do you remember?”
“I remember the cannonball that tore through the wall. And the explosion that threw me against the exit. I staggered onto deck.”
“What next?”
“A metal beam fell towards me. I fell backwards, and overboard. I was floating when the ship exploded. I cried for help, but no one heard. I managed to make it onto a piece of wood, not even three feet wide. And then the next thing I remember was waking up here.”
“Anderson, can you bandage his ribs?”
“Yeah.” answered Anderson

Davidson stood up and looked out to sea. Most of the debris from the ship had washed up on shore, including a few unlucky sailors that were dead a long time. One of them had been impaled on a sharp piece of metal which had dug into the sand. His left arm and right leg were bloody. Michaels had started the fire, and he helped Lewis crawl to the fire to warm himself. Then he looked towards the center of the island. He saw the cliff that Michaels had described, but the top was unseen through the low clouds. But he did catch a glimpse of black behind the clouds. He thought in the back of his mind that now was the time to leave the beach.

And so the group of castaways left the safety of the beach and ventured into the unknown forest, Michaels first, Davidson second, Anderson third, and Lewis last. After passing the first part of the forest which was wet and green, the next part was dry. The castaways trod on the leaves which populated the ground. Michaels had his rifle, and Anderson and Davidson had makeshift spears. There was no path in the forest, so the group attempted to keep a straight heading. The trees were an effective screen, blocking out most of the light, so inside the forest it was dark. This darkness allowed no other plant to live on the ground. There was no sound to be heard in the forest, other than the crunching of leaves on the ground and the castaways as they breathed. Soon they reached a circle of trees, with a dry leaf floor. Michaels strode into the middle of the circular formation, and then disappeared.


Well, not entirely. Michaels fell into the ground at an unnatural speed. Davidson ran to the spot that Michaels disappeared, and saw a chute made of a strange black metal, leading into the ground. The only sound that was heard was Michaels’ screams as he disappeared into the endless darkness.


Michaels landed on a cool, hard surface. There were some sort of engravings on the ground, runes of a forgotten nation. The surroundings could not be seen in the darkness around him. Something fell onto him, and he brushed it off, but not before it stung him. The bite, for now he realized that that is what it was, stung for a little while, but then dissipated. Michaels felt around him for anything familiar, but found nothing except the rifle that had fallen down with him. Suddenly, a cold gust blew into the room from behind him. The cold gust soon turned into a biting wind, which inflamed the wound he had received. A burning sensation emanated from the wound, which soon turned into a pervasive agony spreading throughout his body. Michaels screamed and dropped the gun. He fell down and writhed in pain, the pain spreading; from the arm to the chest. The pain spread to his chest, his heart beating faster and faster. His senses grew duller and duller, but through the howling wind he was able to distinguish a whisper, a series of words in a foreign language. The chanting grew louder and louder as if foreshadowing Michaels’ imminent doom. Suddenly everything ceased. Michaels was sprawled on the ground, eyes blank, his arm hanging limply to the side.

Davidson heard the screaming cease, and stopped yelling after Michaels. He lay back, feeling the utter hopelessness one feels when a friend leaves. There was a knot in his throat, and the feeling of desperation started to gain upon him.
“We can’t stay here.” said Anderson.
“No.” answered Lewis.
“We’ll stay on course, trek through the night. This whole damn island is cursed.”
“Yes, sir.”

All night the party hiked, and when morning came they had to stop. The cliff was clearly visible now, but the object on top still remained a mystery. Anderson set up the sleeping grounds, and Lewis and Davidson started the fire. The sun lay behind the thick clouds, so the day was dark. The trees cast long shadows made by the fire. All of a sudden Anderson spoke up.
“Did you hear that?”
Lewis was quick to reply.
“What?”
“The whispers.”
“Whispers?”
“Yeah. They followed us, ever since Michaels fell.”
“I didn’t hear any whispers.”
“They were in a woman’s voice, chanting.”
“There’s a darkness in this place. Go to sleep.”


They spent the day sleeping. Davidson was woken up by the yell of Lewis.
“Anderson’s gone!”
“How?!”
“I don’t know. His spear is here, and his sleeping blanket too.”
“We have to follow him.”

There were scuff marks nearby, of someone being dragged. Lewis leaped into the woods, holding Anderson’s spear. Davidson followed him holding a knife. Lewis ran ahead, waving the spear in front of him. Davidson followed in pursuit. Lewis stopped twenty yards ahead of Davidson. He was holding Anderson’s shirt, tattered and torn, with blood staining the edges. Davidson stood nearby. Suddenly a wind blew in from behind.

An unearthly howling filled the air. Davidson turned to Lewis.
“Anderson.” they said in unison.

They sprinted towards the sound, struggling against the wind, the howling transforming into chanting. The chanting was in a language alien to the two. Davidson persevered through the wind, biting at him like a dozen wolves. Lewis stayed close behind as their sprint turned into a walk. A bright light shone ahead, and heat flared out at Davidson. When they got to the scene, all they saw was fire.


A fire was spreading throughout the forest. Davidson turned and ran, the chanting growing louder and louder. Anderson lay in the middle. Davidson yelled at him to run, Lewis just stood still. A burning log collapsed between them. The chanting, now shouting was emanating in the bitter wind. Lewis dropped his spear and knelt. Davidson shouted and cried, weeping and begging, for Anderson to come. A burning tree started its slow descent towards the ground. Anderson turned to Davidson and smiled, a final goodbye, opening his mouth to say words that never came. The chanting evolved into screaming. And then the tree landed, crushing Anderson underneath. The chanting ceased. The fire stopped mysteriously after the death of Anderson.


Davidson fell, crying and weeping. Lewis knelt with hollowed eyes. Anderson was a dear friend to both of them. Davidson stood up.
“We have to go to the cliff.” he said. “We need to make a signal. Otherwise we’ll never leave.”

All day they traveled, eating berries along the way. The berries were plentiful in the woods, for that is how they had gotten nourishment throughout their stay. They got to the cliff around noon. Davidson strapped the first aid kit to his back and started climbing the rock face. Lewis carried the spears, and he followed Davidson. After about an hour of climbing they reached a plateau.


It was not the top. They still had about three hours of climbing left. They sat down, and ate a final meal before the push to the top.

They reached the top when the sun was beginning its descent. The view was awe striking. There was a house, with peeling paint and broken windows. It was two stories high, with a miniature forest behind it. This was the view that was hidden by the clouds a couple of days earlier. The air was thin and the trees were leafless, as though it was the peak of winter. Davidson strode towards the house with Lewis following suit. Davidson opened the door and arrived in the parlor, with empty bookshelves. There were cobwebs on the chairs, and several mice had made their homes here. There was a staircase leading down, which Davidson and Lewis took. In the stairway it was dark. Not a single light shone in the darkness. Davidson flipped a light switch which lay next to the stairs. A single lightbulb illuminated the room. Davidson slowly walked out of the staircase and into the room. Lewis followed. Suddenly, the stairway shot up, as if a giant vacuum had been turned on at the top. Davidson screamed and leapt towards it but was not fast enough. The staircase was gone, and with it their only exit to the room. Suddenly the light went out. A faint chanting was heard, a chanting in a woman’s voice, in a language that seemed that it did not, no, should not belong on this earth. Davidson stood back to back with Lewis, paralyzed with fear. Then Lewis screamed and fell backwards, as if being dragged.. Davidson grabbed Lewis and held tight. The chanting grew louder, now it was definitely heard. Lewis was being dragged into a chute, one that could be clearly felt by Davidson, whose only foothold was the wall around it. A wind started from behind Davidson.

“Leave me. There’s no use.” said Lewis.
“No! I will not abandon you to the horrors that this place conjures. The others are dead. Dead, Lewis! You will not receive the same fate, by God I swear it!” yelled Davidson.

The chanting increased in volume and pitch, growing by the second. Davidson’s hands grew sweaty. Lewis shrieked with the pain of being pulled apart. But man’s strength must fail eventually. Lewis disappeared into the chute, screaming.

Lewis’s dark fall ended. He was in a room, pitch black and empty. The chanting had not disappeared when he fell, in fact it was louder than ever. The voices were yelling at him, taunting him, in his imprisonment. The voices were like the screeches of demons, that haunted him in his helpless state. Lewis sank to the floor, defeated. Now it was the choice of fate if he lived or died. Suddenly he felt the floor heating up. Soon it was scalding. Lewis was forced to jump up and grab on to the ceiling for now bars were there which had not been there before. Immediately as he did so, iron clasps shot around his wrists, binding him to that spot. The floor seemed to fall away, as a red glow was now visible below him. The chanting grew into shrieking. A wind blew from his side. Lewis screamed and tried desperately to avoid his fate, for now he knew what it must be. Lava rose from the place that the floor had been. Lewis pressed himself against the ceiling as he tried to escape the sheer terror of his doom. For the first time he felt the definite and burning fear of death. What despicable monster could put a being through such pain as this! The lava slowly began to rise. Lewis cried and wailed, screaming and thrashing and then hung limply. Lewis whimpered as the lava rose to below his feet. And then came impact which brought upon it a new sensation. Never in his life had Lewis felt pain such as this. It was scalding him, corroding him. Lewis shrieked as his clothes caught on fire. He was burning, burning. The inexorable pain had him in throes. Now it came from every side at once. Lewis frothed, a madman’s look in his gaze. The lava had reached his waist. Lewis screamed as his hair caught on fire. He was burning from every side. He writhed in pain, shrieking and shrieking. He felt a weakness, and gave up. Lewis hung limply as the lava enveloped him. His hands gave a final twitch and then disappeared below the lava. The chanting ceased.

Davidson hung limply over the chute. He had heard his friend screaming in the unimaginable horror presented to him. He knew that it was now his turn. Davidson lay down. He stared up and fell asleep.

Davidson woke up in a different room. It was perfectly white. He had on bright white clothes and there was a strange machine whizzing behind him, the only grey to be found in the room. Another man came into the room. He greeted Davidson with his full name.

“Greetings, James. Sorry about this, but it was necessary to monitor your reactions.”
“Who are you?” asked Davidson.
“A friend. Oh, do you remember anything?”
“No. What year is this?”
“2923. The Surgeon General said this might happen.”

Davidson fainted. When he woke, the man had a strange tablet in his hands and appeared to be touching it.

“Ah, awake again? Good. The sooner you recover the better.”
“Who are you? What is this? Where are we?”
“We’re on the starship USS Eagle. We are currently just past the star Alpha Centauri.”
“Why aren’t we on Earth.”
“Goodness, you have forgotten. The United Powers nuked us, and we nuked them back. Earth was deemed unfit to live on, and we are rendezvousing with USS Prometheus to head to the planet X-544, where HMS Peacock found a safe atmosphere.”
“Nuked? Starship?”
“You were part of a psychological test. We modified what you saw, tasted, felt, heard, and thought. Lewis, Anderson, and Michaels never existed. We had to bail you out to prevent you from losing your sanity.”
“Why was I being put through the test?”
“Your job was strictly voluntary. You see, in the seven centuries following World War 3, in the early 2000s, mankind evolved to feel no fear. The countries which had weapons of mass destruction no longer felt the fear of death. Therefore the biggest barrier which prevented them from pressing the button that would cause the apocalypse was removed. We are studying fear aboard this ship, in an effort to bring it back to what few ships remain, and prevent the utter destruction of mankind through fear. By the way, what were your experiences?”


Davidson lay down and stared at the ceiling. Maybe someday he would make sense of this new world that he had emerged in. But now was not the time to explore. Now was the time to recuperate. Lewis, Anderson, and Michaels were dead. According to this man, they had never existed. But in a future where so many had so much power as to alter one’s thoughts, well, that is a cause for fear in itself. If one nation has so much power as to destroy the rest of the world, should that not be a reason for worry? In this new future, man could live to be a thousand and travel through the galaxies looking for more places to colonize and more planets to link. Technology was dominating this future, a future in which someone who wanted to play a good game of cricket would have to resort to simulation. A world in which reality has no meaning. Was not the world better off in 1917, then it is now? Some people think so. But that is a story for another time.