My thoughts became frantic. Another person? At my pod? Were they trying to get in? Had they been the one to close the door earlier? What was with the giant sword they were carrying-
With a visible effort, I calmed myself, tore my mind from the dark thoughts that were swirling around in it. Steady. Focus. Don't let panic affect your actions. Look at this rationally.
Fact: There's someone standing near my pod.
Fact: He sees me.
There is currently no evidence he was previously involved with the pod, either by bringing it here or closing it's door. Furthermore, going purely by aesthetic reasons, I doubt he is involved with it's origins, although you should never judge a book by it's cover. But I just can't see someone like him, with his white tattoos and red scars, carefully manufacturing an advanced piece of equipment like the pod. All evidence points to him either being a native or another castaway like me. Leaning more towards native personally, considering the artistic markings on his weapon and his skull-mask.
But more than that, it was just this aura he gave off. Like he was less a human and more a beast. Like he belonged on the island. Compared to me, who was fighting against it, he felt like someone who had been accepted by it. Had let the island in and in turn, became a part of it.
It disquieted me.
But running was probably the wrong thing to do here, and fighting felt even more foolish. He carried a giant sword easily in one hand, looking like he had ripped out a talon from a gigantic beast. It probably was, now that I think back on it's wicked, curved shape. Fighting him seemed like something only a suicidal person would do.
So I waved at him. "Strange weather we're having, isn't it?"
I doubt he could understand me, but I felt it was best to speak in a calm voice. Just act like an anthropologist meeting an uncontacted tribe. Appear nonthreatening and hope they don't eat you.
It seemed to have worked, as he grunted at me in what I hoped was a friendly manner, before he resumed his inspection of the pod. I very carefully walked closer, trying not to appear as if I was sneaking up on.
It was then I noticed that the pod door was open. He must have opened it in his tinkering! In my excitement (in my defense, my hand really hurt), I rushed over and started babbling thanks and trying to explain.
He just tilted his head at me in confusion, so I decided that I should best demonstrate by plunging my hand into the serum. Even if there was only a limited amount of it, trading away some of it for the friendship of an experienced island dweller was well worth.
There was an uncomfortable few seconds as we both stared at my hand, which refused to show any signs of healing. I was just about to take it out and laugh awkwardly, when the serum began to froth around around the wound. It was kinda hard to see with all the bubbles, but I could feel my fingers realigning and the bones reconnecting. It was kinda weird to feel, and I was glad I didn't have to actually see the bones and skin moving around.
After awhile, the bubbling stopped and I lifted my now healed hand. There wasn't even any scarring and it felt like it had just been freshly cleaned. I even felt sated, like I had just a meal. I displayed my hand proudly to the native(?), awaiting his reaction. I was pretty confident that he wasn't going to kill me, as he probably would have done it already, but even I was a bit stupefied when he started laughing, a low growling noise that sounded like a mountain collapsing.
I stared at him as he continued to laugh, casually picked up the pod with his free hand and began filling it with seawater. The sheer absurdness of it held me still for a moment, watching him carefully hold the pod so that none of the serum would spill out. There was a bit of frozen fear as well, as the sight of him easily lifting the heavy pod made me realize how utterly outclassed I was. It took a few seconds for it to be filled to his satisfaction, the reddish water brimming close to the lip. Was he trying to dilute the serum? Make it easier to split up?
My curiosity wasn't enough to stop me from starting forward when he closed the door with a flick of his wrist. Something was wrong. The part of my brain that was still concerned with trees and bananas and predators in the dark screamed out a warning before I even registered what he was doing. I began to yell out a question or a word of caution, or something. Anything to hold off the feeling of dread that was rising within me.
Too little too late, as the moment the noise left my lips, he gripped the pod with one hand and shot put into the ocean. It was a splendid shot, the pod flying almost to the horizon before it hit the water and began sinking down.
I stared at where the pod had sunk down in shock, not really comprehending what had happened, when I smelled a sweet, rotting scent and darkness swallowed me.
Day 4
When I woke up, I was lying on the sand, still holding onto my stuff. The sun was rising and I felt like my head was about to split in half. I gazed blearily at the beach, but there was no sign of the pod or the man who threw it into the ocean.
There were, however, some giant hermit crabs cleaning themselves on the beach. Guess I now know what closed the pod all those days ago.
Like that helps.
Choose two:
[] Scavenge: My food and water situation is fine after last night, but that won't last. I need to be prepared.
[] Explore: I haven't really made an effort to really examine this island. I need to know more about this island.
[] Practice: My skills with my machete are weak. Never again.
[] Track: I'm going to find where that fucker who threw away my pod went.
[] Examine: I think I should find out more about these hermit crabs. Maybe they can be of some use?
[] Writein: Actually, I think I'll...
