It’s been twelve days since the crash. You hear the sounds of the tide…feel the warmth of the sand… the sun’s already been out for hours. Your skin is dry and peeling from the burns you received the other day. Luckily, there’s an abundance of palm trees for shade.
The only sounds you’ve heard for almost two weeks have been ones made by nature. No cell phones, no other people, no cars. Just the trees, the ocean, the birds, the once daily crackling of the fire you build at night to cook what you’ve been able to gather.
Despite your current situation, its actually quite serene.
However, twelve days of no other sounds means you’ve heard no music, no laughter, no voices of your loved ones. You start to get a bit hopeless thinking about all of that.
It’s silent for moment.
You hear a sound you haven’t heard before, even before the crash. It’s come from the other side of the small island you now call home.
You go to investigate…
After retrieving the spear that you’ve fashioned out of a large branch, you make your way to other side of the island. Your heart pounds in a faster rhythm with each step you take towards the place on the island where the sound was heard.
As you see the clearing through the trees, you can see a small billow of smoke coming from the sand. Almost as if someone had a campfire going or maybe smoking a cigar. Interestingly enough, there’s no smell of fire or smoke at all, even as you get closer.
Finally, upon reaching the source of the smoke, you see a hole in the ground, about three feet in diameter. The hole is quite dark, and seems bottomless like an abyss.
“Hello?”, you manage to mutter. Your voice echos slightly into the hole below you.
What could have made this hole in the sand? An object? A person? Something else?
All speculation at this point, and nothing could prepare you for the truth.
You don’t get a response to your greeting. In fact, you don’t hear anything anymore. No waves, birds, or wind. You can’t even hear your own heartbeat or breathing. It’s as if a vacuum had sucked the sound out of the world around you, leaving only unfathomable silence.
Hitting your head with your palms does nothing, trying to clear your ears proves useless. Everything at this moment feels futile.
Trying to back away from the hole, suddenly your feet feel anchored to the sand. You’re still standing, you can still move your head, but your feet have become welded. The feeling reminds you of sticking your feet deep into wet sand and creating that suction-like reaction.
Your anxiety is higher than ever, and you feel powerless, as if all the determination in your personality had been stripped away.
“How….and why?” are the only words you think to yourself. Over and over again like a broken record.
The spear you held in your hand drops to the ground, your muscles weak, and your head foggy.
Under your feet, the sand surrounding the hole begins to slowly drip down, pulling everything around the hole with it. Even the rocks and trees provide no resistance to the force.
You too, move closer to the hole, feet still lodged, the unprecedented symptoms still present.
After less than a minute of the pulling force, the hole begins to close. The island looks like a large bite has been taken out of the side, enveloped in the hole. The last thing you see as you look up before the hole closes, the last bit of light from the outside.
Eventually, you don’t know if you shut your eyes or there’s an absence of light, the darkness is the same regardless.