Terror Island - Shoreline
The masked mercenaries herded passengers off the ship at gunpoint, barking orders:
"Hands on your heads!"
Leon moved mechanically, scanning the crowd. His eyes locked onto Sofia's back—Did she see me?—
but the bald man ahead demanded attention.
Unlike the others, he wore no mask—just a black headband over his scarred scalp. His stance screamed authority.
"Isthat the boss?"Leon's lip curled.
He stepped forward, boots crunching on the volcanic sand.
"Welcome to Terror Island, sinners.
The name is Oliver Kirby,
Im the captain of the first defence squad."
His voice carried the weight of a judge pronouncing sentence.
"Sinners?" someone whimpered.
Leon clenched his jaw. "Who the hell does this guy think he is?"
Kirby checked his watch, sighing like a disappointed teacher. "We've had a… minor delay." His glare swept over the crowd.
"Six hours!."
Confusion rippled through the group—even the loudmouthed bearded man stayed silent.
The captain rubbed his temple, irritated. "That's your survival window for today.
Just… try not to die, eh?" A dry chuckle. "I know it's sudden, but you'll understand once I explain the rules —"
"We don't wanna play!" a woman shouted.
"Let us go!" another demanded.
BANG! BANG!
Rifle shots silenced the protests, the echoes rolling across the jungle behind them.
Leon shoved through the line, his polished shoes kicking up black sand.
"Well, looks like this is my only way out of here."
The masked mercenaries stiffened—their rifles twitched in shock as he stormed toward Kirby like the guns were mere props.
"Hey, baldie!" Leon barked.
The captain turned slowly, his dead-fish eyes barely registering Leon's presence.
"Do you know who I am?"
Leon's voice dripped with venom. "You clearly don't know who my father is—"
"The only thing I see," Kirby interrupted,
"is a spoiled brat who missed his naptime."
Leon saw red. "What did you say?! Bring your manager here! I want—"He lunged,
fingers clawing at Kirby's vest. "—to speak with my father right now!"
The crowd gasped as Kirby's hand shot out—thick fingers clamping around Leon's throat like a vice. The captain lifted him effortlessly, dangling him a foot off the ground. Leon's kicks connected only with air.
"Do you think," Kirby whispered, his breath reeking of stale coffee, "you're in any position to order me around?"
"Sir!" A mercenary shouted in warning.
Kirby dropped him. Leon crumpled to his knees, greedily sucking in air—only to snap his head up with wild eyes.
"Oh, now you've done it, pal! Sorry, but you just signed your own death warrant!
When my father hears—" Spit flew from his lips. "—not just you, but every single one of your disposable grunts will be—"
CRACK!
The taser's prongs buried themselves in Leon's shoulder. For one terrifying second, his entire body locked up—muscles seizing, veins bulging—before his scream tore through the beach:
"GYAAAAAAHHHHH—!!"
Darkness crept at the edges of his vision. The last thing he heard was Kirby's bored sigh:
"Well, sorry for the delay, dear products."
Leon's face hit the sand. Somewhere above him, Kirby's voice faded into oblivion:
"Now, as for the rules..."
***
Leon's eyelids fluttered open. Blurry shapes swam in his vision—vibrant greens, blinding golds—before snapping into focus.
A tropical island.
"Huh…? Where am—"
His question died as he looked down. Thirty feet below.
"HUH?! WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING UP HERE?!"
The parachute straps dug into his shoulders, suspending him like a grotesque puppet in the jungle canopy. Frantic fingers clawed at the buckles—CLICK—
"GYAAAA—!"
THWACK!
Leon hit the jungle floor back-first, the impact punching the air from his lungs.
"OW! Son of a—! He rolled onto his knees, spitting dirt.
"Wasn't I just on the damn ship?!"
Then he saw it.
A black device clung to his left wrist—sleek, military-grade. Not a watch.
"The hell is this…?"
His fingertip brushed the screen. It blazed to life with electric green text:
[ WELCOME TO O.D.R. ]
"O…D…R…?"
The map interface loaded. Green dots pulsed in the distance, each tagged with coordinates.
"187m… 302m…" Leon read aloud, throat tightening.
He killed the screen.
It's best not to touch things I know nothing of yet!" Leon hissed to himself.
The jungle chirped with absurd cheerfulness - birds trilling in the canopy, the distant roar of a waterfall painting a deceptively peaceful scene.
"Why can't I remember anything? What the hell happened in the ship?"
His boot scuffed against something. A leather pouch.
"Arrows...?!"
Ten black-feathered projectiles lay neatly arranged. His head snapped up, scanning the foliage. There, half-buried in the loam - a sleek compound bow, it looked too advanced for a normal bow.
"Was I... hunting?" The words tasted alien on his tongue. None of this computed. The parachute. The device. Now weapons?
"This doesn't make SENSE!"
His fists slammed against his temples.
"Damn it, Leon, THINK!"
Leon dusted off his pants, eyeing the dense foliage ahead.
"Well, best to get back to the ship somehow. Maybe I'll run into someone on the way."
He took three steps—then froze.
The black bow lay where he'd left it, its polished limbs glinting in the dappled sunlight. *There's a reason I had this...* His fingers twitched.
With a sharp exhale, he doubled back and snatched it up. "Better safe than sorry," he muttered,
The jungle swallowed him whole. Towering ferns brushed his hips, their broad leaves dripping with condensation. Every rustle set his nerves on edge—until his wrist buzzed violently.
"What the hell—?"
The O.D.R screen pulsed red:
[ WARNING ]
YOUR LOCATION HAS BEEN REVEALED
HUNTERS INBOUND: 2
DISTANCE:84m...10m
Leon's grip tightened on the bow. The birds had stopped singing.
Somewhere in the green hell ahead, branches snapped.
CRACK!
A middle-aged man burst from the bushes, hands raised in surrender. His pudgy face glistened with sweat, eyes squeezed shut. "P-please! Don't kill me! I—I got rid of my bow, I swear—!"
Leon dropped his own weapon with a thud realizing too late how unnaturally heavy it was—the sleek carbon fiber limbs marking it as military-grade.
"Woah, relax! I'm not gonna—"
The man peeked one eye open. "Huh?"
"Oh, thank God!" He scrambled up, grabbing Leon's hands like a drowning man. "You're a saint, young man! A true saint!"
Leon pried himself free. "Why the hell would I kill you?"
The man blinked. "Wait… you were on the ship, right?"
"Yeah, but—" Leon's head pulsed. "—things are fuzzy after the ship stopping."
"The hijacking? The antlered freak?" the man pressed.
Leon's scoff died in his throat.
"Oh! Now I remember!" The man snapped his fingers. "You're the hothead who got zapped by Captain Kirby!"
Flash.
Memories detonated behind Leon's eyes—the ship, the screens, the game.
His knees hit the dirt.
"Hey, kid! You okay—?"
Leon lunged, fists twisting in the man's collar. "We need to get the hell out of here. Now."
"I know, I know!" The man waved his hands, sweat dripping down his temples. "I don't wanna play their sick game either! There's gotta be another way..."
Leon eyed the discarded bow in the bushes. "So that's why you ditched your weapon?"
"Damn right!" The man puffed out his chest, then deflated just as quickly. "But... seeing you gave me hope. Maybe others think like us too! If we team up—"
"You're saying we should trust random strangers?"
"Yes, but—" The man's voice dropped to a whisper. "That bald captain... he said if we don't return by the time limit..." A shudder ran through him.
"'The Dark will take you.'"
The jungle sounds seemed to hush at the words.
Leon's scoff died in his throat. "The... Dark?"
"Or something like that." The man shrugged.
"So this high-tech bow and O.D.R..." Leon tapped the device's screen, watching the green dots flicker. "...are survival tools? Like some twisted game starter pack?"
Paul suddenly thrust out a meaty hand, his grin not quite reaching his eyes.
"Paul Mirandy! Nice to meet ya, kid!"
Leon automatically shook it. "Oh... me too. My name is Leon..."
Then he froze.
His mouth opened. Closed.
"...Leon...?"
Paul's smile faltered. "Somethin' wrong? You look whiter than my grandma's sheets."
Leon's hand began trembling in Paul's grip. "I can't—"
"Huh?" Paul leaned in.
"I CAN'T REMEMBER MY LAST NAME!"
Leon's scream sent birds scattering from the canopy. His knees buckled as he clutched his head.
"Nothing FEELS right! Why can't I—"
"What? Kid, you sure?" Paul's voice wavered.
"YES!" Leon's fingers clawed at his scalp like he could physically dig out the memories.
"It's not just my name—I can't remember anything before the kidnapping!"
Paul opened his mouth, then closed it. "Kid..." His voice thickened with pity.
"I don't even know what to—"
Leon's breathing hitched—sharp, panicked gulps of air. "Maybe... maybe it's from the taser?" Even as he said it, he knew that wasn't right.
His hands moved on their own, frantically patting down the pouch at his hip. Nothing. Then his pockets—
"What the hell...?"
Two cylindrical devices rolled into his palm. One matte black, the other painted screaming yellow.
"Oh! You got 'em too!"
Paul brightened momentarily before confusion wrinkled his brow. "I think the black one's smoke, and the other—"
"—flashbang," Leon finished automatically.
Paul froze. "How'd you know that? You don't strike me as someone who served in the military."
Leon stared at the grenades. His fingers traced the safety pins with practiced ease.
"That's the problem, Mr. Mirandy..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know either."
***
The river gurgled over mossy stones as Leon perched on a sun-warmed rock, his red hair catching the late afternoon light. Paul knelt nearby, splashing water on his face with rough, tired motions.
"Do you think that freak was right?" Leon asked abruptly.
Paul paused, droplets running down his stubble. "About what?"
"Y'know…" Leon flicked a pebble into the current. "That we agreed to this. Signed some ... contract."
Paul stood slowly, pressing a finger to his temple. "Well… he said we did it to erase past crimes."
"Crimes?" Leon's head snapped up.
"I was a lawyer, kid, there was no reason for me to-"
Paul's chuckle died as his own words registered. His eyes widened—a man connecting terrible dots. "...Why would I—?"
A beat of silence. The jungle hummed.
"Doesn't matter now."
Paul's usual boisterous tone flattened into something hollow. He turned to face Leon fully. "I'm getting out of here without killing anyone. Hope you'll help me."
Leon studied Paul's outstretched hand—the lawyer's fingers still bore old papercuts along the edges. He stood and gripped it firmly.
"Yeah."
The jungle swallowed them whole, every step sinking into the damp earth. Towering ferns dripped condensation onto their shoulders as they pushed forward.
"So... what's the plan, Mr. Mirandy?" Leon whispered, his hand brushing against the unfamiliar weight of the bow slung across his back.
Paul wiped sweat from his brow. "That 'Dark' nonsense? Probably just a scare tactic to herd us back to the ship."
"I mean, how would they even find us out if we stay here?"
"Look! A clearing!" Paul suddenly brightened, pointing ahead where golden light pierced the canopy.
Leon's wrist buzzed before he could respond.
"Wait!"
He grabbed Paul's arm. "The O.D.R—"
The device emitted a shrill BEEP!
The screen flickered to life, displaying a lone green dot pulsing in the northern sector—50m and closing.
"Someone's close," Leon murmured, fingers tightening around his weapon.
Paul's face lit up. "That's great! We can team up with—"
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Mirandy." Leon's grip tightened on his bow.
"Why?" Paul blinked, his enthusiasm undimmed.
"He pinged us first." Leon tapped his O.D.R screen.
"If he wanted to hide like us, he wouldn't be broadcasting his location. This feels like—"
"Oh, don't worry!" Paul clapped Leon's shoulder, cutting him off. "Poor guy's probably scared, just like we were!"
Leon's jaw clenched. "But—"
"Look, sometimes in life you have to trust people."
Paul puffed out his chest. "Deep down, everyone here knows this game's wrong. They'll understand if we just—"
"Paul..." Leon's warning came out strangled.
"You should have faith in humanity,Leon" Paul smiled, already stepping toward the approaching dot.
"Just sit tight! I'll handle this!"
***
BEEP!
Leon stared at the O.D.R screen. One dot.
Just one.
"Paul...?" His whisper died in his throat.
Then he was running—branches whipping at his face, lungs burning—until he skidded to a halt at the clearing's edge.
He Gasp.
Paul's body lay crumpled in the ferns like discarded laundry.
Above the shoulders—nothing. Like his head had exploded.
Just ragged flesh, splintered vertebrae, and a pink mist still settling on the leaves. The coppery stench hit Leon's nostrils a second later. His stomach lurched, bile scorching his throat—
"Old fucking geezer!"
The buzzcut man kicked Paul's corpse, sending it rolling onto its side with a wet thud.
"Talking about teaming up like some kindergarten field trip..."
Leon's hands flew to his mouth. His fingernails dug into his cheeks hard enough to draw blood.
"This must be a nightmare,YES i must be in a sick nightmare."
The hunter paused.
"Wait..." He tapped his own O.D.R.
"Weren't there two—?"
Slowly, his head turned.
Their eyes met through the foliage.
The hunter's lips split into a grin.
Leon's muscles locked as the man's hand drifted to his bow in one liquid motion—
THWIP!
The arrow tore through the tree like it was paper, the tip stopping just inches from Leon's face as it embedded itself in a trunk behind him.
"HOW IS THAT EVEN—?!" Leon's voice cracked.
He stared at the clean, smoldering hole in the thick oak he'd been hiding behind. The hunter stood in full view on the other side, already nocking another arrow with a bored expression.
Leon's stomach dropped.
"That arrow did this to solid wood?! "
"Then that explains what happened to Paul's..."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mirandy!" he choked out, scrambling backward.
"It was all my fault! If I had—"
CRUNCH.
Leon froze.
Slow, deliberate footsteps crushed leaves behind him.
He didn't need to turn.
The hunter was following him.
Leon's lungs burned as he crashed through the undergrowth, the hunter's taunt ringing in his ears:
"RUN ALL YOU WANT, KID! I'LL MAKE SURE TO BLOW YOUR FUKING HEAD OFF WITH MY BOW!"
The man's laughter slithered after him like a venomous snake.
Paul's last words echoed bitterly in Leon's mind: "Have faith in people!"
"I should've told him how STUPID that was!"
Leon spat between gasps.
A glance back revealed the hunter drawing another arrow, his compound bow's pulleys whining under tension. Leon zigzagged wildly, putting every tree between them—
THOOM!
An arrow pierced a palm trunk to his left, Making a huge hole in it.
THOOM!
Another obliterated a sapling to his right.
Then— airborne.
His foot caught on a root, sending him tumbling down a rocky incline. The world spun—sky, leaves, pain—before SLAMMING onto flat ground. His bow dug into his back through the strap, miraculously intact.
Silence.
Leon dared to look up—he'd fallen into a circular clearing.
The hunter skidded to a halt at the cliff's edge, boots kicking up dirt.
"DAMN IT, where the hell did that kid go?"
His eyes darted across the clearing below—nothing but swaying grass and trees.
"TCH."
His fingers dove into his vest pocket, fishing out a neon-blue capsule.
"This'll boost me up good…"
Strings of saliva stretched between his teeth as he bit down.
CRACK.
The effect was instant.
His spine arched violently, tendons standing out like cables under his skin. Veins bulged black under his neck as the drug's synthetic scream flooded his nervous system.
"Hhah…HAHAHA!" His laughter came out in wet, guttural bursts.
Then—JUMP.
He soared far beyond human limits, arms windmilling through the air before SLAMMING down into the clearing. Dust plumed around him as he rose, pupils blown wide, mouth stretched in a rictus grin.
"LET'S HAVE SOME FUN, KID!"
His voice wasn't human anymore.
It was a predator's hunting cry.