The Forgotten Island

by David Sodergren

We end our lives as helpless as when we begin them, he thought.

Going on holiday to a warm climate was the cruellest fate a good book could possibly face.

‘Yeah, well I didn’t think she’d be hanging around so much.’

Already looking forward to him dying

She shivered under the blanket and waited for him to finish. In a way, that was the story of her life.

She waved at one of the men as they drove past and when he nodded back she felt inexplicably sad.

‘You’re so weird. If I wanted a holiday surrounded by antiques and corpses, I would have spent the summer with grandma.’

What if Rachel hooked up with some guy? The idea infuriated him.

Sooooo ready for him to die graphically

It was all he knew anymore. All any of them knew. Survival. Survival and worship.

Found the missing workers

It sounded like someone taking a bite of an apple as the teeth tore into his skin and muscle and came away a chunk of flesh.

The tiny monsters covered his entire head like a constantly shifting mask, biting and tearing at whatever flesh was available. He felt his eyelid being torn away, one of the spiders biting and pulling at his eyeball, the soft orb rupturing, white fluid gushing from the socket. He clamped his jaw shut, but they ate away at his cheeks, the flesh offering little resistance.

This is exactly what he deserves I am so satisfied

It was several minutes before the screaming finally stopped.

The unfinished resort still stood vigil, a sad reminder of mankind’s insignificance in the face of the unknown.