I Traveled to a Deserted Island in the North Pacific That Has a Terrifying Secret | Part 2
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I was screaming on the inside. My head became a hive mind of conflicting thoughts and revolting interpretations of that place and my friends alike. Was this a prank? They had to be pranking me. The thought made no sense at all. Nobody with a shred of human decency would play such a joke on a stranger, much less on their close friend. Beyond the irrational mindset, I knew that I was being pulled into the symptomatic dementia that Roxanne also exhibited.

Nonetheless, I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream into the night and expel the last bit of breath from my lungs until the burning sensation confirmed that this was reality. I also had the urge to claw at my face, to shove my fingers into my eyes until they popped straight out and the nightmare finally ended. But I didn't do any of that. I presented myself with a calm demeanor, suppressing the chaos brooding in my thoughts. The priority was to keep the women safe.

That was the unspoken vow between myself and David. It felt like our sole responsibility, so I couldn't afford a mental collapse. Alice and Roxanne were inconsolable as they huddled together on a towel and wept loudly. Alice was freaking out in fear of what would become of us next, and Roxanne firmly believed her daughter shared Russell's tragic fate. Shay was quiet and kept largely to herself while me and David tried to figure out what to do next.

We had dragged Russell onto the beach and did a quick evaluation of his condition. Judging by the temperature of his body and the amount of insects already feasting on his flesh, he had been dead for hours. It couldn't have been him calling. I stated the obvious in a veiled attempt to solidify my previous claim. I could only hope for David to pull it all together and finally realize that I was speaking the truth. It felt like the only way to combat whatever I saw was if he at least believed me.

we were standing over Russell's corpse, lamenting our lost friend. David placed a towel over his face, not able to bear the sight of his mangled features any longer. There was no telling how he died, but his face evidently took a beating, and it was difficult to guess what kind of animal could have done that to him. Up until that moment, neither of us spoke a word. It was hard to act cohesive in the face of something so vile and devastating.

desperate for any obstruction from the horror. I looked to the sky and traced the fading moon. It was likely nearing sunrise already. Then we could get back to the harbor. "I saw it too." David's sudden admission surprised me and terrified me to no conceivable end. It verified the fact that someone or something was out there stalking us.

Did they see it too? I turned to him and asked with a hushed tone, in reference to the women sitting just outside of Earshot. No, I saw it before, when I was searching for Russell earlier. I didn't want to say anything in case it was just a trick of the light, but that's why I told you not to get into the forest when we left. He seemed defeated, and that probably scared me more than the idea of warding off a monster till sunrise. Maybe we don't have to tell them.

"We'll just wait it out and head back when there's enough light to do so," I offered, and David apathetically nodded his head in agreement. It might have not been the best decision to withhold the information from them, but Russell's death was already a lot to process. "When we were trying to get back," David stopped short of his sentence. His eyes glazed over as he descended into a trance-like state, and I patiently waited for him to proceed talking. "At one point,

Shay drifted off from the rest of us, and it turned into another rescue mission. We found her some distance off the trail. I don't know what the fuck she was thinking, but I felt responsible and now, I don't want to imagine what could have happened if we didn't find her. I'm sorry, Phineas. There wasn't enough strength in me to be mad at David, but I also questioned my wife's reckless adventures. She hated nature, and it was definitely unlike her to wander off into it alone.

"You immediately found her and she's safe. We'll just keep it that way," I assured him, and gestured my head in a beckoning manner. We moved back to join the women, and as I turned to do so, I was struck with my deepest fear. As if foreshadowed by David's confession, Shay wasn't there. "Shay!" I called out with mild urgency and rushed over to the spot she was sitting in. I wondered if she ventured off alone again.

Was her frame of mind also disintegrating in response to our fatal dilemma? Regret instantly flooded my veins. I should have checked on her as soon as we discovered Russell. David came to my side before surveying the area, and only with his accompanied investigation, I noticed the line of blood leading into the forest. Without hesitation, he ran into the direction of the crimson path, and his shadow merged with the darkness. Soon enough, I could only hear the echoes of his voice calling out her name.

"This isn't happening! This can't be happening!" I involuntarily shouted and followed David directly into the untrodden woodland. Alice and Roxanne jumped to their feet as well, and likely felt less comfortable sharing the beach with a corpse. So, they quickly weighed their options before they also chased after us into the darkness. What followed was nothing short of total madness. Voices sprouted from every direction, each one calling after a different individual,

Tenius!

My blood ran colder. If such was even possible. That was, without a doubt, Russell's voice. The recognition made me pause, and I found myself in the middle of a small clearing that I didn't remember running into. The tree branches overhead audibly creaked with every tug from a non-existent breeze. And something within my line of sight shifted in the dark. A towering figure emerged, shimmering in the fading moonlight as it shuffled closer in a swift motion.

The limbs contorted in ways that defied the laws of nature, and its bright glowing gaze, void of life as we know it, set on me like a predator marking its prey. My jaw dropped, a scream trapped in my throat. The voices around me dropped in volume, yet continued on in a chorus of whispers. By some unnatural dexterity, one particular voice penetrated my mind and commanded me in a foreign tongue to approach the silhouette facing me.

Though the words did not appear to be coming from the unholy creature itself, I later determined that perhaps the sounds reached me by telepathic means. Like a deer caught in the headlights, I froze. My mind was racing, but my body completely shut down. Then a light beamed onto the creature and it shifted in form. The entity took on a human-like physique and resembled Russell to a fault.

The only thing that set it apart was its red eyes, for they glistened in the ray of David's feeble flashlight. Much like that of a prowling stray cat, I shuddered at the reminder that human eyes do not reflect. David stood solid behind me and grabbed my arm to yank me backwards. With a surge of newfound adrenaline, I propelled myself into reverse before David and I simultaneously fled back to shore. We would have fought it off had we known what it was and how to combat it, but we didn't.

The creature had an aura not accustomed to our world, so I couldn't fault our assumed cowardice act of running away. "Everyone out!" I yelled into the vacant air, hoping the message reached all our friends scattered in the forest. "Shay! Where are you?"

I was admittedly close to tears, and it manifested in my voice. "Shay! Get to shore!" I begged while pushing my legs to go as fast as they could possibly carry me. David was on my heels as the whispers shrieked around us. Although they grew increasingly faint and elusive the further away we managed to get, we reached the beach again after what felt like eternity. And that illusion was supported by the tinge of an orange sunrise barely grazing the horizon. "Alice!"

David yelled frantically, and his luck proved to be much better than mine, for his girlfriend came crashing out of the forest, in complete disarray and on the verge of a stroke judging by her panicked breathing. But Alice was fine. "Shay! Please!" I didn't know what to do. Run in and fall prey to that creature? I couldn't protect Shay as a dead man. Not that I could offer much protection as a living one either. Exhausted and beaten, I pathetically broke down crying.

The wind picked up and sprayed us with the grains of sand. The ocean that had been spilling soundless waves for the majority of the night suddenly adopted volume again. With a return of ambience, everything seemed to resume normalcy and heed to the slow rising sun. Me, David and Alice were sulking in our useless remorse when a new sound began drawing near. Roxanne stepped out from the treeline with Isabella in her arms.

The toddler was dirty, muddy stains embellished her face in deliberate patterns, and her short little curls of hair were decorated with twigs. She looked like the project of a witch doctor. Alice and David barraged Roxanne with questions. Expressing both relief and concern for the mother and daughter, Roxanne was smiling, gleeful and without regret. "She may have gotten her child back safely, but I could never come to terms with how little sorrow she displayed for the cost."

"It gave her back to me for an exchanged sacrifice." Her eyes went to me and for a split second, her gaze shimmered with a red hue. She smiled, knowing that I noticed the deceitful mask. "Shay wanted to, Phineas. For the baby." There was blatant mockery in her tone. Yet somehow I was the only one to notice. The only one not fooled by her disguise.

I swiped away the tears from my cheeks and charged at her. Without any hesitation or dismay, I wrapped my hands over her throat and squeezed as hard as I could. Then a sharp hit to my temple shrouded the world in pitch darkness once again. I woke up in a white sheeted bed, confined to a small, bland bedroom. Three months have passed since we were rescued from the island and rejoined civilization. Three months of trying to come to terms with the evil that tainted our lives.

Though, it seems only my life has been affected. "I don't belong here," I tell David with unconcealed bitterness. "I have my music turned down, but I don't care to remove my earphones during this wretched visit. He's looking at me in the same way he always does, with infuriating pity that can easily be mistaken for genuine concern. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't care. He thinks I'm pathetic and weak." "You won't be here much longer, Phineas.

"Just let them help you." His voice, although generously muffled by a song, still irritates the living daylight out of me. I wish he would entirely stop coming around. "You can leave." I catch the nerve to say it out loud, and he doesn't even seem taken aback. He just stares at me. A sense of knowing infiltrates the atmosphere. I am so mad at him. Yet, I cannot hate him. We've been friends for as long as I can remember.

and we've been through too much together. - You should know better than anyone else that I don't belong here. - I don't mean to break my silent strike by speaking more on the matter, but my emotions override my system and I rip the earphones from my head. - Phineas, you're not well. Whatever you think you saw out there, it wasn't real. - David keeps his tone low and controlled. The contrast in stability between us is evident, though that means little in the grand scheme of things.

He hasn't suffered my level of loss. Regardless of his usual calm and collected composure, he's blatantly lying to both himself and to me. What happened out there wasn't a figment of my imagination. We all experienced it. But for weeks now, they've been denying my recollection. It feels like I'm the only one acknowledging the horrors we endured. David just wants to forget. It's the easiest way of coping.

It's easier to call me insane or damaged, to dump me in a place like this, and to tell me to talk to a therapist about it. He doesn't want to face reality himself, because he is the weak one. "How can you act so oblivious? How could you sign the admission papers and trap me here while knowing that I'm not crazy? Every last bit of what I'm saying is the honest truth. You know this, David. You were right there with us." My voice momentarily cracks.

I can't tell if it's because of the sudden emotions overwhelming me or due to the fact that I haven't spoken more than three syllables in over two months. Conversing feels foreign to my vocal cords. David clears his throat and shoots me a glare that begs for some compliance. Then he proceeds to speak up slowly, as if explaining something simple to a toddler. "What you went through was extremely tragic, tremendously straining on both your physical and mental senses.

"Perhaps you… perhaps I responded appropriately to a fucked up situation?" I interfere. Then I'm suddenly overcome with a throbbing heartache attached to the distant memory of my late wife. "You would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes, David. Roxanne just handed Che over to that… thing. Stop telling me I'm insane and stop insinuating that I hallucinated everything." I angrily kick the thin sheets from my ankles and get up from the uncomfortable bed.

After a quick assessment of my environment, I compose myself with the realization that the action of rising so aggressively isn't a good idea. More than likely, it will only land me in a straitjacket. I haven't been strapped into one of those things before, and I don't intend on crossing that threshold. After a deep breath, I gesture to the open doorway with both hands. "Now, you can leave," I repeat again in a much more moderate tone. David doesn't flinch.

nor does he try spinning more bullshit. He knows I'm right about everything. He just can't say it, unless he wants a room of his own in this place. Without another word, he turns to leave. "Yeah, go do something actually useful instead of talking shit." I spit the words at him as he neared the doorway. "And unless you get me out of here, I don't want to see you again." Those words miraculously cause his face to twitch, and he comes to a standstill right in front of me. There's a scowl on his face.

Yet his eyes reveal only sorrow. Finally, an authentic reaction. Emotions portraying the reality of our circumstances. The reality of our shared trauma. David nods his head sternly. But I can't tell if it's an agreement to my terms or merely a gesture of greeting as he steps outside and sulks down the hall. Barely 30 minutes pass before a key rattles in my door again and intrudes on my solace.

When the door cracks open, I instinctively roll over to face the wall. The staff usually raid the rooms before bedtime, checking every inch of your personal space for hidden weapons that you might use to hurt yourself with. I'm still bitter over David's visit. I don't know why he bothers making the drive just to lie to my face. I don't know how he can deny everything now, when out there, he was my only clutch. Does he think imprisoning me is going to help me to get over Shay's death? This place is only obstructing my grief.

"Come on!" I quickly turn around at the sound of his voice. I've made the rule not to respond to voices anymore, not unless I can lock into the eyes of the source. That's been a fear-induced habit of mine. David is back in my room, offering me a sad smile. "I signed your release forms." In response to his declaration, I turn up the music blaring from my earphones and start gathering up my belongings. I figure it was easy for him to get me out of this place, because I've been very compliant and friendly.

The nurses even began questioning why I was here. "Me and Alice have a room set up for you back home." I appreciate his troubles, but I'm not about to show any gratitude. Instead, I don't waste any time before shoving out of the room, desperate to walk through those front doors. I don't know when I last felt unshackled. It was likely prior to us getting on that damning cruise trip. In truth, I don't think I even remember what it feels like to be free from the bonds of despair and paranoia.

David sprints to keep up with me, and it seems I'm escaping my prison with the very warden that has been keeping me in chains. I purposely rush ahead of him and offer the front desk nurse a quick greeting before finally stepping out of the building. The early evening air is alleviating, and at last I take out my earphones to allow a moment of serenity. The facility is situated in the countryside, with no traffic or city life disturbances.

I suppose all the upheaval caused by the truly deranged compensated for that lack of disorder. It feels like a weight is lifting, only to then plummet down on me once more. This is only one less hurdle to overcome in an ocean of obstacles. In the parking spot right out front, Alice is waiting for us beside their busted old Land Rover. The lot is mostly empty, with only a few cars scattered about.

Alice has her arms folded defensively across her chest, and her body language makes it hard to discern whether or not the couple mutually agreed to accepting custody of me. Then, as if anticipating my thoughts, Alice opens the back door of the vehicle and beckons me forward. "Phineas, it's so good to see you. I've been telling David to do this for so long." I haven't seen her since the night of our rescue, and the sight of her now forces some memories in the forefront of my mind.

The image of Alice cradling Shay's lifeless body infiltrates my thoughts and tears gloss over my eyes. David was carrying Russell that morning when I couldn't stand the sight and touch of my dead wife any longer. Alice adamantly took her from my arms and carried her the whole way back. I owe this woman more than I have to give. I struggle to find any words to express how thankful I am, to show how much I regret the fact that she had to help me carry Shay back to the harbor. I want to tell her,

but I know my words can't be enough. Alice notes my inner turmoil and steps closer to pull me into her arms. She embraces me and I can feel her trembling as she cries. David approaches us and patiently hovers until Alice pulls away. "Let's be off. I'm going to cook a decent feast for dinner. I bet you're tired of bland food. Facility meals can be atrocious."

She's still crying through her every word, but attempts the diversion regardless. Before I get in the car, something trickles at the back of my mind. The sensation of being watched gives me pause, but I brush it off as David pulls the car out of the parking lot and swerves into the dense wooded road. "So, are we going to be real now, David?" I shouldn't already be testing him, but I can't help myself. "Can we discuss what actually happened?" "Don't, Phineas. Not tonight."

David sternly tells me off, and it only irritates me further. "I've been waiting months to have this conversation. If you still deny my account of what happened, then what's your version?" Alice seems to tense up as I speak. Then I find David's gaze in the rearview mirror. He meets my eyes briefly before returning his attention to the road. "Roxanne rushed ahead after I knocked you out cold, and I still don't know her whereabouts. We found Shay on the way back on the hiking path that morning.

She suffered a bite from a venomous snake. He speaks slowly, his voice deliberately gentle. "Don't lie about it!" I don't intend to raise my voice, but there's seemingly no end to his bullshit. He's lying about that moment so shamelessly, while it's been branded into my memory forevermore. I still see Shay when I pinch my eyes shut, cold and deceased, sprawled across the hiking trail like a piece of roadkill.

"Alice, was there a snake bite? You both know that the Roxanne woman killed my wife. Enough! Do you want me to turn back?" David snarls at me, and I can't remember ever being on his bad side. He looks at me again with pleading eyes. "Just wait till we get home, Phineas." I reluctantly comply, seeing as I had to live under strict observation for months now. Surely an hour more of obedience won't do any harm. We continue on in silence.

The wheels on the vehicle glide on the tar road and after an abrupt turn, we're heading down a dirt path. David has been telling me during his visits how he and Alice rented a holiday cabin in the area, driven here by a business offer Alice received and by the ideal chance to be near the psychiatric institution. My eyes are set keenly onward. From the middle seat in the back, I have a clear view of the road illuminated by the car's headlights. I check my watch and spot the time.

6:15 p.m. The night is chilly and the darkness premature. I have to bite my tongue despite the quiet air contributing to the post-traumatic stress seeping into my chest. All of a sudden, my discomfort unravels with the sight of something standing on the road ahead. When the lights reach the jaywalker, we all collectively gasp and David slows the car to a halt. Roxanne is standing in the road with Isabella cradled on her hip.

She addresses us with her deep red gaze reflecting in the headlights. Then like a phantom, she simply crosses the road into the tall encircled grass. Not long after her departure, the car's engine unexpectedly dies and refuses to reignite. Alice immediately bursts into tears while David tells us to stay calm. He repeatedly tries the key again and again. I feel no emotion. I'm numb and bitter.

The only thing worthy of my attention is the faraway sound of my wife calling out for me to help her. "It's not her, Phineas!" Alice sobs back her tears and pivots her body in the front seat to face me directly. "It's not her." Alice tries to reassure me again, and David quickly retorts as well. "Ignore it, Phineas." Their concern is palpable, and I know full well to disregard their cries.

yet I'm already halfway out of the car. Her voice is agonizing, but in a very disturbing way. It's good to hear it again. "Help me, Phidias!" "Ignore it!" David shouts as I slip from the vehicle, and Alice shrieks in panic. "Get back inside, Phidias!"

I ignore them and search around. I've had enough, and I'm not going to let it pick us off one by one. I won't allow it to torment us like that again. "Where are you?" I scream into the adjacent field. We're surrounded by towering grass and thick woods. The whole atmosphere is shrouded in that familiar darkness. While David and Alice continue to coax me back into the car, my gaze finally settles on my target. A pair of red eyes awaiting me in the murky grass.

Without hindrance, I begin jogging straight to it. Shay continues to call out to me, but her voice is laced with a sinister growl that audibly salivates with hunger. Behind me, my friends are hysterical and I can only hope they don't pursue me into the dense field. The eyes grow bigger the closer I get, and soon I'm directly in front of her. The entity imitates Shay exceedingly well, and in morbid honesty, I wouldn't want to die any other way.

The creature leers forward in the coating of my wife. Then her limbs slowly contorts, transforming her figure into the true form of the creature. I close my eyes and think back on the images that came up during my research into Shay's ancestry folklore. It's a skinwalker. That's the reason for David's reluctance to discuss it. If he did his own research, then he would know not to speak its name out loud.

He would also know that any kind of acknowledgement of the creature's existence only fuels its influence. That has been entirely on me. I haven't stopped thinking about it for a single second. It nested in my consciousness and I kept insisting on clarification. Now, it's found us again because of me. Like our previous encounter on the island, a demonic voice invades my mind again with ethereal telepathy. It beckons me forward. This time, I obey.