Assignment 5 - Survival

[FrostySOTF]

You wake up in the back of a helicopter with a burlap sack over your head, hands and feet bound. You hear people speaking, they're talking of an Island and Dinosaurs and Other Subjects. You start to move, checking how tight your bindings are. They notice you're awake and you feel a needle slide into your neck before an icy sensation runs throughout your body and you fall asleep.

You come to on the beach wearing shorts and a sweatshirt with only a knife in your hand. You look around to see a dense jungle, beach, and open water in all directions.

You reach into your pocket and feel something, a note, there is only one word written on it.

Survive.



There's your prompt guys, take this and run with it! What happens next? Do you become master of all and live a life of luxury or do you trip and stab yourself after 2 steps? No limits here, surprise me

P.S - Apologies for inactivity, my keyboard has been acting up, I currently have one ghetto-rigged via USB from my old PC, I'll be grading the previous assignments shortly, expect responses sometime soon. From what I've read they are all very good!

[Alwyn]

Here's part I of mine (when I tried putting it in all in one post, an extra blank contentbox was automatically generated and I could not find a way to stop that happening, which is why this is split between two posts. Sorry).

Survive, part I

Survive, part I When I woke, the first thing I remember hearing was the whirring of the helicopter’s rotor. Then there was pain in my hands and feet. I shifted my position, pushing against the ropes, but they were tight. A voice said, “He’s awake.” There was a rustle of clothing as someone moved over me, then the sharp point of a needle in my neck. Then I felt an icy sensation and nothing. The next time I woke, I was lying on warm sand under a bright blue sky. Automatically, I moved my hand through the sand, feeling its warmth and texture on my palm. For a moment, I felt like a kid on holiday. On one side of me, waves were lapping gently on the shore. From the other direction, away from the sea, there was a soft buzz of insects whirring through the undergrowth. Had it all been a bad dream? No. My right hand was holding a knife, not something I’d take on holiday. Why did they leave me with a knife? I asked myself. Instinctively, I reached for the network, it’s a habit when you need information, don’t you find? Then I realised the strangest thing. There was no network. Nothing at all. It was unbelievable, like something out of a horror movie – you know, one of the ones with a group of teenagers where someone says “What’s happening? There’s no network!” When they say that, you know that they’re about to die. It’s as bad as when there’s a mysterious noise in a house the middle of the night and someone goes to investigate, alone. You know they’re never coming back. Was I going to come back from this? What was that sound - was there something moving in the jungle or was I imagining it? This situation reminded me of apocalyptic movies, too. You know, the one where the network gets infected with a virus which turns people into zombies, or the one where someone hacks into another person’s implant and makes them kill people, or the one where anti-implant extremists shut down the network completely and everyone panics. I was feeling panic, too. Without the network, there was no way to know where I was, no way to call for help, access my cloud, or anything. My breathing was getting faster, my heart was pounding and there was sweat on the palms of my hands. I did a mental relaxation exercise for a bit, concentrating my attention on my breathing until my heart-rate returned to normal. It felt weird to do the exercise without being able to summon up a peaceful image and calming sounds from my cloud. But, of course, I was in a peaceful place, on a sandy beach. The sound of the sea washing against the shore was soothing. I stuck the knife in the sand and walked a little into the sea, just standing in shallow water, feeling the gentle ebb and flow of water soothing my feet and lower legs. That helped a bit. Why do I keep thinking about movies? I asked myself. Then I dimly remembered being in the helicopter, hearing my captors talking about movies. Some guy in Sydney had re-made the Jurassic Park movie, you know, the original one they made at the end of the 20th century, as a high-school anime project. My captors in the helicopter had been discussing it. Yeah, I know, everyone knows somebody who re-made that movie as an animation. I think people were doing that when my parents were in high school. I’m more of a Lord of the Rings fan myself. But there was something really unusual about this version. This guy updated the Jurassic Park story to the present day. Everyone found that their implants didn’t work on the island where the dinosaur park was. Without the network, they were already anxious, disoriented and a bit paranoid when the dinosaurs started running amok. That was part of what made this version of the movie so clever. People talked about the psychological angles: what happens to people’s minds when they suddenly cannot tell who they are, or contact anyone, or access their data? If I spent much time without the network, I was going to find out. Was I going to end up anxious, cranky and paranoid? I felt disoriented already, like the dizzy, don’t-know-which-way-is-up feeling you have after going on a really fast ride in an amusement park. I decided to sit down where I was, on the wet sand next to the sea, for a moment, until the dizzy feeling went away. It was so warm under the hot sun that I didn’t mind the wetness of the sand. Why was there no network? Was I a long way from human habitation? I remember my father talking about when he went camping, as a kid, in the early days of implants. He said that there was often no network in the wilderness in those days. He remembered how eerie it felt even then, when you expected not to have the network outside urban areas. Perhaps there was another reason for the absence of the network, apart from being a long way from anywhere? Maybe they had damaged my implants, somehow? There was no way to know, until I could find someone else, to ask them if they had lost access too. Why had those people stranded me here like this? I really wanted to bail out of here. Having got up, I walked unsteadily towards the nearest jungle. I remembered walking in the Daintree Rainforest in Queensland with my parents, years ago. This place looked like that. There was brown earth, with green ferns and the mottled bark of trees. The earth felt soft under my feet. When I entered the shade, my head started to clear in the cooler air. Ahhh, that was better. Now I could think straight. What did I need first? Drinking water – I had been lying in the hot sun for who knows how long. I felt sweat on my back. I took off the sweatshirt I had been wearing – what was I thinking, lying under the hot sun wearing that? The drug they gave me in the helicopter must have messed up my head – either that, or lying unconscious under the hot sun. I walked for what felt like hours, trying to keep going in the same direction so that I could return to where I’d come from. There had to be a stream or a pool somewhere. I could see little lizards scuttling around in the undergrowth. They must be getting water somehow. While walking, I decided to make a mental list of the resources I had. It wasn’t likely to be a long list. I had the shorts I was wearing, the sweatshirt which I was carrying and – what was that in my pocket? It felt like a scrap of paper, a docket maybe? I pulled it out. There was one word written on it, “Survive”. Oh, come on, give me a fair go, I thought, if you’re going to leave a mysterious note in my pocket, at least tell me something useful. In fact, it would have been better if you’d left me a few useful things. I’d like a pair of sunnies, a cold beer and a … a doovalacky, a whatsit, what’s the name of that thing they used for long-distance communication before the network – oh, a radio. Thinking about survival prompted me to remember something - I suddenly realised that I had left the knife stuck in the sand, back on the beach. That’s when I saw something moving, on a branch in front of me. What had looked like a tree branch was actually a snake. The snake’s head seemed to be looking around, as if it had sensed prey. I backed away slowly, and then turned and ran as fast as I could, blindly through the jungle. Now I was totally lost. I thought about the knife, back on the beach. Now I had no idea which direction to go, if I wanted to collect it.

[Alwyn]

... and here's part II:

Survive, part II

Survive, part II It was time to just pick a direction and walk. I chose a direction which seemed to go slightly uphill. The idea was to get somewhere with a view, to get an idea of my surroundings, I guess. That’s when I saw a bloke ahead of me. He was walking up towards a hill. Soon, I could see that there was some kind of structure on the hill – it looked like a wooden watch-tower, sticking out among the tops of the trees. I followed him, as quietly as I could. If there were people, then at least I had a chance of finding out why I was here and whether there was a way out of here. Up the hill was a wooden stockade with a large gate. The bloke I was following walked up to the gate and called up to someone in the watch-tower, “He wasn’t on the beach. He’s gone walkabout. He could be anywhere by now.” That’s when I realised that he was talking about me. I circled around the stockade. There was another watch-tower and another gate on the far side. As I crept around the stockade, I suddenly heard a voice. I thought I was being stealthy, but someone must have seen me. “Welcome back, mate” said some bloke from behind me. I turned to see a dark-haired, well-tanned guy with a big beard, smiling at me. Welcome back? But I’ve never been here before in my life, I thought. “I know, you don’t remember me or this place,” he added, “that must be confusing.” I was confused – and a little scared. What was he talking about? “You see, a bunch of us were worried about the Global Network Corporation, the corporation which make the implants. We looked into some obscure areas of the software and found things that we couldn’t explain, some really odd sequences of code. That worried us a lot – what was the corporation trying to do? Then members of our group started to disappear. If you have implants, then you can ask for the physical location of anyone in the same friendship group, right?” he said. This all sounded weird, like something out of a conspiracy theory, but I played along, “Right, unless they change their privacy settings or leave the group,” I said. I needed to know what this group’s agenda was. “What are you trying to achieve? Are you trying to destroy the GNC?” “We don’t want to destroy anything! We just don’t want to be manipulated – to make us buy particular products, to change how the news comes across to us, even to affect how we vote,” he replied. “You’ve probably seen news stories suggesting that our group is ‘anti-implants’, that we are ‘violent’ or ‘extremists’ – that’s an example of the kind of distorted information we are against.” “I see – but what has this got to with me? How did I end up here?” I asked. “Eventually, our leader broke into some of the corporation’s secret files. That’s when we discovered how our people were disappearing. They were being dropped off on a remote island by helicopter,” he said, “this island, in fact. That’s why we set up this place, as a sanctuary for the members of our group who disappeared.” That made sense – sort of. Everyone has implants. Anyone who tried to deliberately kill someone else would feel overwhelming pain until they stopped. But this built-in inhibitor only stops people from deliberately killing others. It wouldn’t stop anyone from being stranded on an island. People with implants can still physically restrain other people and take them to a different place – otherwise the police couldn’t arrest anyone or a parent couldn’t pick up a toddler who was having a tantrum. “When I woke up, I had a knife in my hand and a piece of paper in my hand, with the word ‘Survive’ on it,” I said, showing him the paper. “I don’t understand – if the GNC wanted to strand me here to die, why would they leave me with a knife?” “A couple of members of our group have infiltrated the GNC. One of them must have been a member of the team who brought you here,” he replied. “Do you know why I cannot reach the network here? Do you have the same problem or is it just me?” I asked. “We found a device, a transmitter which blocks the network on this island. We think the GNC set that up so that, when they stranded people here, they couldn’t call for help or find their way home” he replied. “Of course, since the network doesn’t work, the GNC cannot use it to find us here or to manipulate us, so that works just fine for us. We’re studying the device which blocks the network. Maybe we could built a portable version – that might come in useful if we want to leave the island. Living on this island works well, because whenever the GNC leave another member of our group here, we can find them and bring them here.” He smiled. “Why did they maroon me here? What has this got to do with me?” I asked. “You don’t remember? Really? They must have really got to you. We know that the strange sequences of code in implants can manipulate how people perceive reality. We suspected that they could affect people’s memories as well. It looks like you are living proof of that,” he said. “They must have messed with your memories – but maybe they were worried that your memories would return. That would be too risky for them so they stranded you here.” “Right. But seriously, what’s this got to do with me?” I demanded. “You are our leader, you are the one who broke into the secret files. If you don’t remember any of that, then we have a lot of work to do, to recover your lost memories” he explained. “Then we’d better get started,” I said, “if they’ve taken away some of my memories, I want them back.” -- Here (if I understand them correctly) is the meaning of some Australian expressions used in this story:- A fair go: a fair chance Bail out: to leave, normally in anger Bloke: man Cranky: in a bad mood, angry Doovalacky: a word used to represent something you cannot remember the name of (a thingummy, a whatsit) Sunnies: sunglasses Walkabout: for Aboriginal people, to go for a walk in the Outback which could last any amount of time. To 'go walkabout' can also mean 'to get lost'. I’m not Australian, so I’ve relied on sources such as Koala Express, here

[DeanE555]

Assignment 5:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

REAL Survival of the Fittest


Jim McPhinigan wakes up in the back of a helicopter with a burlap sack over he's head, hands and feet bound. He hears people speaking, they're talking of an Island and Dinosaurs and Other Subjects. Jim starts to move, checking how tight he's bindings are. They notice Jim's awake and he feels a needle slide into he's neck before an icy sensation runs throughout he's body and he fall asleep.

Jim comes to on the beach wearing shorts and a sweatshirt with only a knife in his hand. Jim looks around to see a dense jungle, beach, and open water in all directions.

He reaches into his pocket and feel something, a note, there is only one word written on it.

Survive.

"Jaysus bloody in' Christ!" Jim swears in a one-of-a-kind combination of surprise, anger and fear in his tone all at the same time which you can only understand after you've heard it with your own ears. As a man who grew up in the poverty struck part of Glasgow, Jim was no stranger to neither cursing (which over the years he turned into an art form) nor perilous situations. In his short 25 years which he spent on this planet he managed to get beaten, broken, stabbed, electrified, poisoned, drowned and now apparently, kidnapped and marooned.
He had a feeling he shouldn't have taken "trip": his best friend Mike Friseal came up with a "way to make a quick buck", go and take a trip to Burma, Myanmar or whatever the hell this place is called now and meet there some chink lads that got some hold of some new type of 'powder'.
"Shite's gonna lift'cha higher than a spacecraft Jimmy! Bloody thing's worth a fortune 'n 'ere! Trust me it'sa no risk on this job!" Jim remembered his friend's words.
"No risk my arse!" he yelled in great fury to the sea who replied with a calming sound of pushing and pulling waves on the shore. Of course the sound didn't calm Jim because he might, as well as he knows, be as good as dead already. In his continuing explosions of furious behavior he yells and throws the note on the white hot sand, stomping on it so many times he lost count of.
After his storming anger have calmed down, Jim began to think about survival. OK, OK,I've seen Bear Grills but I sure as hell ain't drinkin' my own piss! A few more moments passed before he decided what to do: Right! First things first I gotta fin' some water.
But then another thought crossed his mind: Wait a sec… didn't this prick on the heli mentioned something about DINOSAURS?! He must'a been in' jokin' right? Right?!!
Lizards always made Jim's skin crawl, he always sensed something… evil about them, now if a little gecko makes him jump, just imagine what'll happen when he'll meet the gecko's older and much larger cousin!
As if to answer his concerns a large roar rumbled from the jungle. Luckily (or not so) for Jim there were a bunch of coconut trees just on the entrance of the jungle. Sure he suffers from impaired tolerance for coconut milk but at this point he would rather have a stomach ache then meeting by chance a T-Rex.
As for food, it seemed like the mating season of the crabs has started on the shores of this island so there was no shortage of some bite for now.
After Jim took care of nutrients, it was the time to make sure he has a soft bed and some fire. Using his knife, he cut off some big leaves from the smaller trees and bushes he could find without entering the jungle, some of them he laid for a bed, the rest he piled up and tried to make fire like he had seen on the TV: he took a stick and stuck it in the base of some smaller leaves in a position of 90 degrees. Then, using his palms he began to roll it back and forth inside the small pile, hoping the friction would make it catch fire and cursing it along the way all the while.
Frustrated after what seemed like an hour or two, Jim stopped rolling the stick, threw some curses at it and this island, and after he calmed down again he went for another assignment: collecting sticks and stones to make an S.O.S sign large enough to spot from the sky.
In the middle of the collecting, a big thirst started to take over Jim. He went to one coconut tree and started to climb it like he had seen on the TV: hands hugging the tree and feet in front of him. Jim wasn't a flexible man so this position was quite painful for him. He had lost his grip and fell to the ground two times before he grasped the idea behind the technique and managed to get some coconuts.
Surprisingly, the coconuts were quite hard to break with the knife, but after a lot of twisting, thumping and stabbing he managed to make a decent hole in the little bugger. The milk tasted worse than he had imagined, making him spit it out when he first gulped it, throwing more curses at it and this island afterwards and continue to drink from it (it wasn't worse than the moonshine his grandmother used to make after all, NOTHING is worse than that moonshine).
When he finished his S.O.S sign the sun have already began to set. Once again Jim tried to set fire but to no avail. As he lay on his bed made of palm leaves, he witnessed a spectacular sight of the sky: thousands of never ending lights, all glowing like tiny light bulbs and across the sky a white foam-like cloud can be seen and from time to time even a shooting star is being spotted. All of these lay atop a sheet of dark blue colored sky. "Blamey! You can never see such a thing in Glasgow! Maybe it ain't so bad here after all… great silence, no one around to bugger me, buck load of food, oh wait… there's still the goddamn chance a large lizard is gonna eat me alive! Who cares… not many good things about my life anyway…"
With his thoughts running wild, slowly Jim began to fall asleep, giving away the spectacular sight of the universe for his world of dreams.
It all came back to Jim when he was sleeping: the costumes officers in this god forsaken country, Myanmar, had arrested him and his friend Mike as they were about to board the plane back to London, the judge sentenced them for death. Then, around three days later in chink prison shows up a suit and claims he is from the UK embassy, the suit releases them both and they board his helicopter that parks inside the prison yard. Then some pricks jump on him and Mike and stick syringes in their neck and then… then Jim ends up here alone on this island.
Five days have passed, no planes or ships were sighted nearby, Jim passed the time mainly by speaking to himself (well, more likely speaking to his new friends: Mike and Wilson the coconut shells), swearing at the island or wanking (right… you don't wanna know about the coconut shell Leah…). He always jumped in fear whenever another roar echoed from the jungle.
The crabs had left the shore so Jim tried fishing, first he stood inside the water a whole day, waiting to stick his harpoon which was a piece of wood he tied the knife to. But the myth was busted that day because no fish came near him even though he stood still inside the water for hours (which was very difficult because his stomach was a mess after drinking all this coconut milk). Then Jim tried to build some sort of a fishing rod but that too was unsuccessful, Jim never understood what people liked so much about fishing and sitting still all day wasn't something he liked.
Not only the food supply began to fall short but also Jim had enough of his stomach aches and diarrhea, he HAD to find some water.
On the seventh day Jim had finally gathered the courage to explore the jungle. Saying goodbye to his three coconut friends he began his journey armed with only a knife. Surprisingly it wasn't too long until he had stumbled across what seemed like an oasis. Filled with joy, Jim ran as fast as he could and jump straight in it, bathing and drinking water all the while he has the chance. Jim then had continued his search for food, looking around for what seemed like forever. The fear overtook his mind: like a mad man he would always fell like something was stalking behind him. He would turn his head towards the slightest of noises, ready to stab whatever comes out. His breathing was heavy and he wanted to escape back to the shore all the while.
Then, when it seemed like a hopeless feat, Jim suddenly stumbles across a nest… a HUGE nest. As gigantic as the nest is so are the eggs laying inside. In both fear and joy, Jim exclaims "Holy shite… I think I've hit the motherlode!" Better grab two and get outta here before momma's gonna fin' out.
Jim grabs two eggs and goes back to the shore, only problem is he forgot which way it was. It seems like the number of roars is increasing so Jim starts running, trying to trail back on his footprints and find the shore. To his demise, one egg falls to the ground and brakes. He swears a little but continues on his path fearing what might catch him if he is to stop.
It seemed like night is nearing so Jim gave up finding the shore and instead found a cave to sleep inside. He made a hole in the egg's shell and started sucking out the nutritious yolk and whites. He hasn't had a decent meal for two days so this egg was like a god's blessing for him. Tired from his journey, Jim falls asleep, hoping he might get back to the shore tomorrow.
Jim woke to the sound of intense roaring and ground shaking foot stomping. Thoughts quickly began swarming Jim's mind Bloody hell! Momma's found me! I'm in' dead!
Jim decided to make a run for it, he thinks the mom dinosaur is gonna smell him inside the cave if he stays. Jim starts to run like hell. He's running and running, trying to keep a fast pace, fear and adrenaline has completely taken over him. 'Instead of fight it is better to flight' his body tells him, Jim usually would be the first to get into a fight but not against a giant lizard!
Light starts to rise from the edge of the jungle, it might be the exit! Jim runs as fast as he can, no longer feeling any pain, just the desire to get out of this frigging jungle. He stumbles upon a rock and falls onto the sand. When he lifts his head up, he is astonished to discover it was not a rock but a rusty metal hatch! Must'a been lying here since WW2… There's gotta be some canned food inside!
Without thinking Jim opens the hatch and descends down, anywhere else is better than that goddamn jungle!
Surprisingly, the electricity still runs in that bunker and the lights are on. Jim doesn't really care he just wants to find some food and calm his nerves down. Jim searches the bunker's every nook and cranny, he opens a door and cannot believe what he sees: hundreds of people wearing masks and protecting gear are messing around with a powder, a powder that looks like the one he was sent to smuggle into the UK!
Then, as if it is all is a well planned show the same prick and his goons show before him.
"Hello Mr. McPhinigan, it seems that you might be talented enough after all."
"What are you talking about you ing prick?! Whadda hell you want from me?! Why'd ya left me alone on this island and where the hell's Mike?! "Jim yells in an angry tone, hungry for answers.
"I'm sure there are many inquiries on your behalf but what I want you now to know is that you proved to be a worthy dealer on our behalf, please if you will, just follow me and I'll guide you towards our Submarine where you might catch a trip back to the UK"
"Oh no! Not if your goons are following, it all seems too fishy to me Mr. fancy suit prick!" Jim yells back, not trusting a word the man is saying.
"Ah! Of course, please live us alone if you will" The man is saying, waving his hand to dismiss his men.
Unwillingly, Jim decides to follow the man. "So where the hell's Mike?"
"Mr. Friseal has already departed, he passed the tests faster than you did but it is no shame, he was just lucky" The man said the word is a somewhat mocking manner.
"Uh huh… and what should I call you Mr. fancy suit prick? Are there really dinosaurs on this island by the way?"
"Oh no, no! There are no dinosaurs on this island, it's just a computer made sound, designed to test your courage. The eggs were made by us so you won't starve to death, amazing what you can do with bio-engineering this days! Oh! And how rude of me! You may call me Mr. Hawke"
"Okay Mr. Hawke" It was hard for Jim to really call him anything but a prick "Why the hell all this testing for?!"
"I can't have some moronic hoodlums distribute my product, I need men with distinctive survival instincts and so this is what the tests are for"
They walked through few corridors until they finally reached a grey room empty with an open dockyard. Inside the dockyard there is a small yellow submarine.
Strangely enough, the room looks as if it was just been cleaned, you could still smell the ammonia drifting in the air.
"Well Mr. Hawke, when am I leaving?"
"You're not!" Mr. Hawke exclaims and pulls a gun out of his suit jacket "You were meant to starve to death and be shipped to the UK as a body filled with my product! Instead I'll just have to kill you and drop you into the sea!
"Whadda hell?!" Jim shouts and lifts his hands above his head "You in' prick! You set me up!"
"Well not me, not exactly, your friend was set up by me, you were just dumb enough to join the ride!"
"OK OK! Just lemme know! Why the hell starve us to death?!"
"I need a natural cause of death since you are declared as missing persons, and besides there are some gambling and reality show business going on arou…" before he could finish his sentence, Jim quickly turns around and shoves his knife up the throat of Mr. Hawke the prick.
He quickly picks up the gun and a note that he found inside Mr. Hawke's pocket. Jim runs towards the small submarine. There are two people inside... loading powder bags inside Mikes abdomens. He points the gun and yells: "Get this bloody thing moving! Get us outta here!" The men comply and quickly turn the submarine on. Jim closes the hatch and the three go on the way.
Jesus Mikey… what they've done to ya… Jim finally escaped the island but maybe too late… His friend is already dead. When he is sure the drivers are complying he looks up the note he picked from Mr. Hawke's pocket. On it is written: Betting Note. Result-Won the bet. Betting Sum: 10,000,000 Pounds. Please deposit at: XXX City XXX ST. XXX Number. Thank you for betting on: REAL Survival of the Fittest.
Well maybe it is not so bad after all! Jim bursts out into a manically happy laughter, maybe his life will finally change for better… just maybe…

Sorry if the ending feels rushed, I was sure our deadline was for sunday... Sorry if anyone's offended by my characers! the only Scottish role model I have is groundskeeper Willy from The Simpsons. OH RIGHT! A lot of cursing is abound so hide yer children and forgive the pink smilies! Now I gotta go to sleep!

[Darkan]

Here's mine. I figured I might as well post it here, though I did send it by PM as well. You'll find some of these fellows in the story.

Survival

Oliver sat on the beach, his back to the sea, and stared at the small scrap of paper in his left hand. SURVIVE, it said, scribbled negligently in capital letters, with the E written as a reversed number three. His head was throbbing and the pain made it difficult for him to focus. He still felt where the needle had been inserted in the back of his neck and he instinctively put his right hand there. The spot was warm to the touch and he realised the effects hadn’t completely gone. He put down the piece of paper and picked up the only other item he had, a hunting knife. Its handle was wooden, simple and where it joined the sharp blade, a small, metallic guard stood, rising slightly upwards to one side. What the hell is going on, he muttered to himself. He remembered the men speaking; those that had brought him here, but their voices had been muffled by the bag over his head. He only remembered them saying something about others like him that would also need to survive and they had mentioned an island as well and...What was the other thing...oh, right, dinosaurs...whatever that meant. Oliver had no recollection from before the helicopter memory, as hard as he tried he couldn’t remember a thing. The sun was very hot and Oliver looked up, as if to make sure it was so, though he could feel the heat. He was also getting thirsty, so he figured he would go towards the trees in front of him and rest in the shade. As he reached the first trees, a sudden scream came from his left. - No, God no, please don’t, a woman’s voice cried out. Without thinking, Oliver dropped to the ground and got behind a thick coconut tree, tightening his grip on the knife. He stood motionless, without breathing, without even thinking as two men appeared dragging a woman behind them. She was trying to break free, squirming and screaming but their hold was too strong. - Stop this or I’ll ing kill you, , one of them said. - you, , the woman replied. - me? he asked. OK , me. Diggs, hold on a minute, he addressed the other man. Let’s see if she really wants to me. - I think she’s being serious, Diggs replied. - ing s, ing pig-faced, -eating, ****less s. - That’s it, the first man burst. Hold her down, I’ll show her who’s ****less. As the two men were trying to immobilise the woman, she freed one of her hands, reached towards her left boot and removed a knife. It all happened in the blink of an eye. The first man had the knife’s handle sticking out of his stomach while the other one, Diggs, barely had time to react. Without thinking, Oliver jumped up from behind the tree and plunged his knife in his back. Diggs turned around, letting go of the woman and desperately grabbed Oliver by the throat. - Who the are you, he screamed in Oliver’s face. I’ll kill you mother er. He didn’t have time to say or do anything else. The woman, free from his grip, had gotten her knife back and had stabbed him as well, just above where Oliver had. Diggs, two knives sticking out of his back, promptly fell to the ground. She then quickly removed both knives and held them menacingly, ready to strike at Oliver. - Who are you? she asked him. Tell me who you are or you’re next. - Oliver, I’m Oliver, he replied, holding his hands in front of him. Calm down. - Who the hell are you? Answer me, she continued, still holding the knives. Are you with the Dinos or the ‘Jeks? - With the what? I’m with nobody. I just got here today. I just woke up here, on the beach, Oliver replied, pointing towards the beach. I’m not with them, he continued. - How do I know you’re not lying, the woman asked. If you’re lying I’ll gut you like a pig. - I’m not lying, I’m not. I just woke up, just now. After a few moments she lowered the knives and started searching the two bodies. She moved fast, faster than anyone Oliver had seen. She removed the two men’s shoes, their shirts and pocketed two cigarettes that she found on Diggs’ body. - Who are you? Oliver asked. - Doesn’t matter who I am, she said. You need to leave this place, it’s too close to these s’ camp. The others will be looking for them soon. As she said this she turned her back on Oliver and went in the direction the men had carried her from. She hadn’t given Oliver his knife back, so he went after her. He didn’t get too far. In the time it took him to blink she was on top of him, one knife at his throat, the other pointed at his groin. - Don’t you ing follow me, she said. - Hey man, chill, Oliver replied. I’m not with them, I told you. I just want to know what’s going on. As he said this he slowly removed the piece of paper from his pocket, raising it to the woman’s eyes. - All I got is this piece of paper and that knife, he said. I really don’t know what’s happening. She looked at the paper, reading the only word on it and sheathed her knife. She still held Oliver’s. - Listen Oliver, she said, I’m only going to say this once, so pay attention. You’re on an island and there’s no way off it. That paper you have is the same as the one I had, the same as everyone here had. - I don’t understand, he said, are there more people? - Shut up! Everybody here was brought just like you, with just a knife and a piece of paper. That is basically the only thing you need to know, that you need to survive. That’s it! - Survive what? What the hell is this place? - Survive what, she scoffed. Listen , get it through your head. This is it, you’re not going anywhere. You’re stuck here, like I am, like everyone is and you have only two options: survive or die. As she turned around to leave, Oliver walked after her, grabbed her hand and spoke: - Listen, tell me... His words were cut short. In an instant, the woman had turned around and had stuck Oliver’s knife deep in his side. His eyes locked onto hers as he slowly staggered for stability. He raised his left arm and placed his hand on her shoulder, while with his right he was clutching the knife. He fell to his knees, looking at his hand, full of blood. His wound was gushing as well. He looked back at the woman and simply put his arms around her. She got on her knees as well: - I’m Sara...I’m...sorry..., she said, removing the knife. Oliver only had one more thought before closing his eyes forever: At least I helped her survive.

Also, I wanted to tell you guys about the Tale of the Week thing, a (mostly) weekly type competition. You should participate, it's great practice if nothing else. (Link in my signature)

Cheers!

[FrostySOTF]

I have dabbled in it once, am contemplating dropping by again, also, grades shall all be current this weekend and I will PM all with updates, waiting on a couple more submissions

[mr_president]

Here is my one. I really enjoyed this excercise and I might even continue it. I will read everyone else's tomorrow.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

You wake up in the back of a helicopter with a burlap sack over your head, hands and feet bound. You hear people speaking, they're talking of an Island and Dinosaurs and Other Subjects. You start to move, checking how tight your bindings are. They notice you're awake and you feel a needle slide into your neck before an icy sensation runs throughout your body and you fall asleep.

You come to on the beach wearing shorts and a sweatshirt with only a knife in your hand. You look around to see a dense jungle, beach, and open water in all directions.

You reach into your pocket and feel something, a note, there is only one word written on it.

Survive.

I still felt drowsy as I pulled myself up off the sand. For a moment I was convinced that I was dead but I couldn’t decide if I had gone to heaven or hell. To the east the sun rose over a vast expanse of ocean. In the other direction was a thick jungle. The jungle floor slowly sloped upwards and a mountain dominated the center of the island. It was only after surveying all this that I came to the disturbing realization. I couldn’t remember anything that happened before the helicopter ride. It was like trying to recollect a dream but always having it slightly out of reach. It was no use dwelling on it. For now my main focus should be to try and follow the instructions on the sheet of paper and survive.

I seemed to have two choices. Either walk along the beach or go inland. Staying next to the sea might be slightly safer but there was no fresh water and I lacked the skills to catch fish. Also there was also no shelter along the shore. It seemed my only chance at survival lay inland. I reluctantly headed into the jungle. The birds chirped noisily and the insects hummed but other than that I seemed to be on my own.

Every meter was a struggle through the thick undergrowth. Some of the plants cut or stung my bare legs and feet. There were also hidden stones that I kept standing on. I was soon in agony. Before long I stumbled on a strange tree with mysterious fruit growing on it. I hesitantly grabbed one. The fruit was covered in green and yellow splotches and was pear shaped. I knew it could be poisonous but all the food here could be poisonous. As I had no way of knowing, it was just a gamble I would have to take. I bit into it and nearly gagged. The mysterious fruit was sweeter than anything I had ever tasted. It made me feel somewhat nauseous but I forced myself to eat all of it.

I walked on until I heard the trickle of a stream. The strange fruit had left me very thirsty and I eagerly followed the noise. Suddenly I heard the sound of something moving through the undergrowth up ahead and I froze. My first thoughts were of the dinosaurs they had mentioned on the helicopter. Surely there couldn’t be dinosaurs; they had all gone extinct millions of years ago. Yet the whole situation already seemed so obscure I was willing to believe anything.

Then I heard the sound of slurping as something drank from the nearby river. Foolhardy curiosity forced me onwards. I wasn’t prepared to live in fear of the possibility of dinosaurs. If they really did live on the island I wanted to know for a certainty. I clenched my knife as I slithered through the native flora. The sound of the creature drinking from the river grew closer. I peered out of a bush and my heart soared with relief. The source of the noise was a boy on the far side of the river. He looked around seventeen about the same age as me. He was dressed in identically to me and even had the same hunting knife I had. I guess I am not the only one who got put on this island. No doubt he also has a note saying, “survive”. The question remained how many people had been marooned here. He had long dark hair and a mistrustful look in his eyes. He looked the kind of kid you would expect to find robbing a shop or hanging out in some back alley. If we weren’t stuck on this island I wouldn’t go near him but I figured all humans were my allies here. I prepared myself to go out and talk with him.

Suddenly something shuffled in the bushes behind him. The boy heard it too and froze. He picked up his hunting knife and slowly turned around. The creature burst out of the jungle and ran at him grabbing him in his teeth before he could even scream. It ripped the poor kid to shreds with its sharp teeth spraying blood everywhere. I backed away slowly. The men in the helicopter had told the truth. A real life dinosaur stood in front of me. I lacked the knowledge to identify it but I knew I had to get as far away as possible before he finished his snack. I stumbled awkwardly through the undergrowth but the dinosaur was too busy enjoying the red mess that had been a person to notice.

Nowhere is safe in this jungle I thought, as I ran through the trees. I have no sanctuary. There is no safe haven I can turn to. Perhaps it would be easier to take my knife and slit my wrist or find a cliff to jump off. Whoever put me on this island must be a masochist. Well I am not going to give them the satisfaction of watching me suffer. Its hopeless what do I know about surviving in a jungle especially one inhabited by dinosaurs. I will doubtless end up like the boy at the river.

When I stopped to catch my breath, the madness that had washed over me receded. I am not going to give up so easily. Even if the odds are against me I intend to survive and perhaps even make it out of this hell. I don’t want to die without recalling my identity. Even though I was far away from the dinosaur I didn’t feel safe. I felt as if I was being watched. Part of me wanted to slink back down to the beach but I knew it was only marginally safer. The top of the mountain would be the safest place. That’s where most people would head and my best chance of survival would be to find others and work with them.

I traveled through the never-ending jungle. I couldn’t see the mountain from the ground but I figured I must have been traveling in the right direction as I was constantly walking up hill. Eventually after traveling for hours without any sign of the mountain I climbed a tree startling the birds roosting in it. I was disheartened to find the peak seemed to be the same distance as it had from the shore. The sea was only a few kilometers away. I cursed myself. All this time I have somehow been walking in circles. The sun was beginning to set and I became anxious to find a shelter. I was also seriously dehydrated by now. I climbed down and resumed my hike up the mountain this time heading in the right direction.

I still haven’t found any more people. Could there have only been two of us? It didn’t seem likely. There was also a lack of any animals apart from the birds. This island is evil and unnatural. I shuddered to think what other kinds of horrors I would encounter. I suddenly spotted two miss-matched eyes staring at me from a nearby bush. One eye was brown while the other was amber. Terror enveloped my body.

Suddenly the creature emerged from the bushes. It wasn’t a monster but a girl aged maybe fifteen. She had tied her dagger to the end of a stick turning it into a spear. It was smart and I was ashamed I hadn’t thought of it.
“The look of fear on your face was priceless.” She laughed harshly. “Tell me who and what you are. Speak fast.” She pointed the spear at my throat.
It annoyed me that she dared threaten me but the look in her eyes convinced me that she would happily kill if I voiced my complaint
“I don’t know who or what I am. I can’t remember anything before I washed up on this island.” I purposefully didn’t mention the helicopter ride.
“Do you have a note saying survive?”
“Yeah.”
“Show me.” She demanded
After I showed her it she lowered her spear and seemed to relax a little. She was a small girl with a thin face pointed features and a messy mop of black hair.
“We should travel together.” I suggested. “There is safety in numbers.”
She smirked at me “I suppose you could prove useful but don’t slow me down.”
Her arrogance annoyed me. “Listen you’re just a skinny little girl if I was you I would show a little more respect.”
The girl laughed harshly. “A skinny little girl who was able to sneak up on you. I could have killed you before you even noticed me. Now come lets find water and shelter for the night. She ran off into the undergrowth before I could respond. I don’t have to follow her I thought sullenly but I stalked after her anyway. What choice did I have?

“Do you see that? Someone's lit a fire. Lets go over and see who they are.” I said to the girl.
She snorted in contempt. “Are you a simpleton? We don’t know who else is on this island. We both have notes telling us to survive but others might have notes telling them to kill. I don’t know what sick game we are playing but I intend to win.”
Her words made sense but I was sick of listening to her. We had failed to find water or shelter and it was dark now.
“Well I am going to investigate.”
“Good luck.” She said sarcastically before disappearing into the night. What a contemptible person I thought. I crawled as near to the fire I could get.

I was shocked to find that the fire lay in the center of a native village. The natives sat around it clothed in leaves. Are they friendly or hostile natives I wondered? I didn’t have to wait long for my question to be answered. The chief of the village rode in on a magnificent horned dinosaur. It must be a herbivore but it was still impressive that these people had been able to tame a dinosaur. His warriors followed behind him escorting a red haired boy. They tied him to a tree and began building up the fire. They are going to cook him I realized. I wished I could help him but it was no use I would only end up dead myself. I started to crawl backwards away from the village. Then I felt a sharp point in my back. A native girl hauled me to my feet and pushed me into the village. The chief gave a malevolent smile and gestured for me to be tied to the tree with the other captive. The girl who had captured me dutifully tied me with a vine to the tree. She had dark beautiful eyes and I reflected under different circumstances I would have found her very attractive. The irony of it all was nearly too much.

I sat tied to the tree watching the natives build the fire that would cook me alive. The girl who had captured me sat next to the chief. I guessed that she was his daughter.
“Curse that girl.” I snarled.
“The one who captured you?” Asked my fellow prisoner.
“Her too but I was referring to the girl who abandoned me.” I knew it wasn’t her fault. In truth I was angry with myself for not listening to her.
“I can sympathies with you there friend. My companions ran off when the natives came leaving me to their mercy. A blond haired boy and girl. I always knew you couldn’t trust blonds.” He laughed which seemed utterly incongruous to me as we were mere moments away from being cooked alive. The natives glared at us and one of them got up and smacked the boy across the face. He shouted an order that I presumed meant be quiet.

Suddenly there was a large commotion in the jungle. Something was moving through the jungle making a lot of noise. The birds rose from their nests in a frenzy. The savages exploded into activity. The chief mounted his pet while the other armed themselves. They hurried into the jungle to face the threat. We were momentarily forgotten about.
“Don’t make a noise.” A soft voice whispered in my ear and someone began cutting through our bonds. For a moment I thought it was my old companion but the voice was much to tender.
“Follow me. Quickly.” Our rescuer said. “It won’t be long until they notice.”
I turned to follow my savior and caught a glimpse of golden hair as the dark shape ran into the trees. We moved through the jungle slowly and quietly at first and then speeding up until we were practically smashing our way through the trees. We seemed to run for the best part of an hour.

The shadow that was our guide eventually led us into a cave. The entrance was hidden by a bunch of vines. When we climbed into the cave a dark shape chuckled and said “I can’t believe they fell for that.”
“Fell for what blondie?” Asked the red haired boy.
“I have already told you don’t call me blondie. You can call me chief.” Said our self-proclaimed chief. “I pushed a boulder off a cliff to startle the bird and give the impression that there was a large dinosaur coming towards their village.”
“We need to get some sleep now. The natives won’t want to search for us tonight but they will come in the morning and we need to be well away from here.” Said the soft voice that had led us through the jungle.

We all slept soundly that night exhausted by our first day on the island. When the morning came I got a proper look at my two rescuers. The one who led us to the cave was a blonde girl who looked so fragile I was surprised she had been able to cut through the vines. She had a kind face with big anxious blue eyes. The boy who called himself chief had long wild blond hair that fell to his shoulders. He had a wicked grin and a mischievous look in his dark green eyes. So these three are my companions for now. We looked like a rag tag team covered in cuts and bruises and only wearing ripped shorts and t-shirts. But we had all survived one day and if we worked together perhaps we could survive another.

[FrostySOTF]

All assignments have been graded and everything is updated! You haven't received any feedback because I've been printing them out to grade them

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[Iron Aquilifer]

A cute little dwarf

The writing is in block capitals, as if written by a demanding child, words his only voice. Dark pencil, lines wobbly and squat, it is the infamous creation of an early learner. A pupil of instinct and instruction instead of logic and reason. My son. There is no other who they would get to write this letter, this insult as silent as the day was long. I will come back for you, I tell myself, the lie so raw that my mouth refuses to make the sounds. As a tear rolls down my cheek, I turn, letter cast in to the sand dunes underfoot. Back against the receding sea, I trudge forward in to the wall of green and brown and black. Survive. The word is a trivial thing, made worse by the fact that I know nothing about how to do so. I was, I am, a taxi driver, born and raised and living on the same street in Washington DC. My son was a thousand, thousand miles away needing me and I am here, some sort of strange tourist on an island. I need to get off, I tell myself, feeling a thorn cutting deep in to my shin. I need to get off. “Mark!” I scream the name, calling out for my son, demanding him from the bug-eyes glaring at me. Don’t judge me. “Stop staring at me! Find Mark!” I do not hear the crunch of heavy foot flattening fallen leaves. No, I dive further in to the island’s uncharted forest, screaming at the world for my son. Maybe I ran for hours, collapsing from exhaustion. Maybe I was poisoned. Maybe it was my body’s defence from whatever was happening. Whatever it was, I awake to darkness. The sun, a distant orb at the best of times, is absent from the island’s sky, leaving me as alone as possible. “Mark!” The call is weak, drained of energy and emotion. I sound like a dying buffalo, natives swarming me with bow and arrow and fire-blackened spears. Natives? I see them, black against the brown against the black. I rise. I spin. I fall. They are all around me. Dozens, hundreds, thousands. Gleaming eyes, flickering candles in the midnight blackness, encroach on my body. I make out the mouths, mistaking them for bipedal alligators. They were lizards and yet were like ostriches. Fang and claw glimmer in the eye-light. Move. Survive. Mark. None aid me. Words, trivial things. My scream uses none of them.