Elias felt the rope give a little more, the human hair snapping under the pressure of his blood and sweat. The clan leader was one step away, the rusty knife—his knife—gleaming under the cavern's fire. The savages growled in a tight circle, their teeth snapping, their filthy hands smeared with excrement and dried blood. The air stank of rotting meat, feces, desperation. Elias didn't take his eyes off the leader, but his mind raced, searching for a way out. He wasn't going to die here, not as prey for these monsters.
The leader raised the knife, his scarred face twisted in a grimace that might have been a smile. The growls became a roar, a sick chant echoing in the cavern. Elias pulled on the ropes with all his strength, ignoring the pain in his wrists. One last strand of hair broke, and his right hand was free. He didn't hesitate. He rolled to one side just as the knife came down, slicing the air and grazing his shoulder. Blood welled, hot, but Elias felt nothing. Only rage.
He lunged at the leader, using his weight to knock him down. The knife fell to the ground, and Elias grabbed a loose stone by the fire, the same one he'd used in the cave before. He smashed it against the leader's head, once, twice. The crunch was wet, like splitting a rotten coconut. The man collapsed, blood and brains dripping down his face, his body convulsing before going still.
Elias expected the savages to attack, to surround him like dogs. But they didn't. A broken silence fell over the cavern, interrupted only by low growls. Then, as if a collective instinct possessed them, the savages fell upon the leader's body. Dirty fingers tore at his skin, ripping off chunks of still-warm flesh. One bit into his arm, teeth shredding muscle to the bone. Another tore a piece of his cheek, blood streaming down their chin as they chewed with a moan of ecstasy. A woman with filed teeth licked the brains from the cracked skull, her hands sunk in the pool of blood like it was holy water.
Elias backed away, his stomach churning, but he couldn't look away. This wasn't just hunger. It was a fever, a madness that bound them in their misery. He seized the frenzy, cutting the ropes on his ankles with the knife he'd reclaimed. The savages were too busy devouring their leader, their growls mixing with the sound of tearing flesh and crunching bones.
Then he saw her. The traitor. She was crouched by the pile of bones, fingers dipped in a puddle of excrement, bringing it to her mouth as if she didn't see the chaos. Elias felt a pang in his chest, not pity, but fury. She had sold him out, dragged him into this nightmare. And now she fed like them, as if she'd never been human.
He didn't think. He ran at her, knife raised. She looked up, eyes wide, but had no time to moan. Elias drove the blade into her chest, once, twice, three times, blood splattering his face like hot rain. The woman collapsed, a wet sound escaping her throat. Elias kept stabbing, rage blinding him, until her body stopped moving, a red pool growing beneath her.
A movement made him turn. A savage, short and hunched, crawled toward the woman's body. Elias raised the knife, ready to fight, but the savage didn't look at him. Instead, it sank its teeth into the woman's arm, tearing off a chunk of flesh with a growl. It chewed noisily, blood dripping down its chin, empty eyes fixed on the corpse. It wasn't a threat. Just another scavenger on this cursed island.
Elias backed away, the knife trembling in his hand. The cavern was a hell of blood, shit, and bodies. The savages kept devouring the leader, some fighting over scraps, others licking the ground where his blood had fallen. Elias wasn't going to wait for them to finish their feast. He ran to the crack he'd entered through, slipping through the rock, the smell of death clinging to his skin.
He emerged in the clearing, the cold air hitting his face. The moon was still there, indifferent, lighting the forest like a graveyard. Elias didn't stop. He ran, branches whipping his skin, the blood of the woman and the leader drying on his hands. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to get away. From the cavern, from the clan, from the betrayal.
But as he ran, his mind cracked. He stopped, leaning against a tree, the knife falling to the ground. The images hit him like a hammer: the woman eating shit, the savages tearing flesh from the leader, the traitor's arm being devoured. He had killed. Not just to survive. He had killed out of rage, out of pain. And the worst part: it had felt good. For a second, he had been like them.
Elias vomited, bile burning his throat. The hunger. That's what this island did. It didn't just kill you. It turned you into a monster. The savages weren't different from him, not at first. They'd been people, with names, with lives. But hunger had broken them, and now he was walking the same path. The woman had betrayed him, yes, but how long before he betrayed himself?
No. Elias wiped his mouth, picking up the knife. He wasn't going to let the island win. He would escape. He'd find a way, a boat, a current, anything. It didn't matter if he had to kill, if he had to bleed. He wasn't going to stay here to become one of them. María always said his stubbornness was his best weapon. Now he was going to prove it.
He straightened, ready to keep going, when he saw it. On the tree in front of him, carved in the bark, was the symbol again: a circle with crossed lines, like a broken star. But this time, there was something new. A piece of fresh meat, impaled in the center with a splinter. Blood dripped, forming a pool in the dirt. And below, tracks. Not human footprints. Claw marks.
Elias raised the knife, his heart racing. Something was watching him from the forest. And it wasn't alone.