Tropical Dungeon

trop-ic-al: adj. hot and humid; torrid.

I wake up. The distant cawing of the birds reminds me of my existence on these lands. This land. It's been a while since I've seen a blue sky, or a thick forest, or even a sandy white beach. Lately, I've begun to wonder whether the books are lying. Whether the pictures are lying. Whether my memory is lying.

The sky is black. Not blue, not grey, not littered with clouds, and never lit up with lightning. Black. Black, like the birds which caw in the trees each morning. Black, like the color of the panther which resides on the very edge of the cliff each morning. Black, like the color of the vast, glass-like waters around me.

As the sun rises, the sky changes from the black to a dull, emotionless red. Almost brown, but not quite there yet. I sit there for a while, wondering whether today really is the last day of my "stay" here. My mood matches that of the sky. Seemingly containing a bright color, only to change to a watered-down version of it once you take a closer look. Yet hope is still there. Hope, that, after spending all of my waking days on this island, this prison, I would be free.

My parents never called themselves that. Guardians, or Caretakers, maybe, but parents, never. They did their best to provide pictures, stories, books of the other world, creating memories of that which I had never seen, telling tales of that where I had never been, to the point where I could talk about the other world as if I had lived there my whole life. Then the panther appeared. They were careful, but not careful enough. Now it's just me. Me, Myself, and I.

I wipe the sweat off of my forehead as I put away books and photos. A headache starts creeping in, and I put down the box in order to sit down for a bit. It's only the start of the day, and the instruction manual said I have until the end of it to prepare myself for the exit. The glass of water on my lap quickly becomes empty as I swallow the liquid, soothing my throat and sweating body.

Am I ready?

Do I deserve to leave?

They put me here for a reason, right?

I'm not an experimental game, right?

I'll get out of this mess, right?

right?

My thoughts take up most of the daylight, or, rather, daytime, so when I put away the last photo of my "Mother", a low rumbling caused me to look up from my belongings. I flinched. Before me, in the black waters that were normally so smooth that you could use them as a mirror, were covered in V-shaped waves, and in the front of these waves, a boat was speeding towards the island. The freaky thing was, however, that the boat was white. Pure white, like the clouds that were described to me by my guardians. Pure white, like the white tulips that bloomed after the white snow that fell from the sky melted. It was a beautiful boat. A small one, but beautiful. And, was that a person on it? All my doubts vanished as if someone had used an eraser to rub them off of the paper which was my brain. Forgetting everything, I grabbed my small box of belongings and ran as fast as my legs would carry me towards the edge of the cliff to meet the boat.

The edge of the cliff.

To meet the boat.

The edge of the cliff.

The panther.

Yet despite my realization at that very moment of the dangers ahead, my feet didn't stop. They just kept running and running and sprinting and slipping on wet stones and refusing to come to a halt. After all, the panther wasn't there now, so it was safe, right?

I pass a large gap in the middle of the cliff. I only catch a glimpse of the contents, but the big yellow eyes with black slits in the middle give me my answer. I speed up. I'm well past the majority of the cliff when I hear a growl behind me. Without looking back I drop the box in hopes of saving my skin by distracting the monster who murdered my guardians. My parents. The rubber of my shoes creates a screeching sound as I skid to a halt at the tip of the cliff. What now? I could jump. I should jump. I glance behind me. The box, ripped apart and thrown aside, lies in a muddy ditch next to the hole-like gap. The panther has his eyes fixed on me, and is speeding up by the second. I don't have much time, I realize. It's now or never. I take a deep breath and jump.

"Hey, are you alright? Can you hear me? Crap, Lee, can he hear me?"

"How should I know? I just brought him back, I'm not a doctor, ya nerdical!"

My eyes open to two blurry figures and the feeling of a swaying motion almost causes me to puke. I jolt up and look around.

"Hey, he's awake! Hey, can you understand me? I'm Sigma, like the Greek letter. How are you feeling?"

"What just happened? Where am I?" I had so many questions. Was this the outside world? Why was the sky so blue? The people so colorful? The air smelled, well, clean. And the sounds, the noises, the whispers, the chirps, the wooshes, and the clicks! Suddenly, I came to a realization.

"Am I safe here?"

"What? What do you mean, safe here? Hey, is everything alright? You looked like you were about to die on that beach.." The female named Sigma looked at me with worry in her dark eyes. Dark, almost black. Black, like the other world.

"Beach?"

"Yeah, we found you on a beach from a tropical island, why? How long were you waiting? I knew there were a few that weren't found after the rescue team came to the crash site, but that was months ago... Anyways, here's some hot chocolate. In the meantime, we'll run some tests to make sure everything is fine. To be completely honest, I'm surprised you survived out there! There was only one other couple, but they were dead by the time we saw you wandering alone..."