Death becomes them...
We had spent a few whole days on this miserable island, with no sign of rescue, and a dying hope of survival. The pilot... he was gone. Food, what little we'd even had to begin with was beyond short supply. People were still panicking.
For my part, I was just trying to take it day by day. After all, despite the hunger and the potential danger, this wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to me. I was free. And I kept that in mind.
Jack did his best to keep everyone from freaking out anymore than they absolutely needed to, though some of them were just a little bit beyond reasoning. Like Shannon. High maintenance, drama queen type who went back and forth between tanning as though she would be heading back to Los Angeles or wherever a girl like that was from in no time, to acting like the world was over when she realized there was nowhere to sleep but outside, and that sleeping outside meant things like sandfleas and other kinds of bugs.
Then there were those who needed no reasoning at all. Like Sawyer. There's not much to reason with, with a jackass who knows everything, is there?
I guess the hardest to deal with were the two Asians. None of us spoke their language, or had any idea how to communicate with them, and the man, who most of us presumed to be the husband due to their wedding bands, and also, their inability to exist unless they were co-existing, was a stingy, stuck up bastard who ruled over his wife with a typical Eastern Iron Fist. The patriarchal tendancies had to be a cultural thing, because it wasn't like either of them was even half way attractive enough to be capable of infidelity.
Though, in my own silent opinion, I believed she probably rebelled against him in at least some major ways. Because it would be impossible to truly love or obey a man like that. Even if you were pathetic, or desperate, or just downright ugly.
I mean, I'm a criminal and I'm capable of having more functional relationships.
Not that it mattered. By the end of the day, they were both dead.
The guy, Jin, which is the name Hurley got off of the passenger manifest, was some sort of fishermen. One of the other survivors who knew a little bit about their culture said that that meant they were low class citizens, and that he had probably made his living off of fishing. He seemed a little out of practice though, and from the look of their clothes and luggage in the airport, it seemed a little too high end for a fishermen, which to the other survivor meant she probably came from money. And at some point, they had lived off of a bigger man than the husband himself. D-a-d-d-y.
I guess there's a lot you can tell about a person, just by looking at them. Or by watching them. By knowing a thing or two about their cultural background.
Me? I only knew what I needed to survive. So whether those things were true or not, was something I'd just have to take their word for.
What I didn't have to take word for, was that Jin did seem to have a knack for fishing. Not that anyone seemed all thast interested in what he caught. It's probably what made him head out for deeper waters. To find something better.
Only, in deeper waters...
There were sharks.
No one was watching, as he swam deeper, so there was no way anyone could have seen the dark dorsal fin looming through the water just a few feet from where Jin kept ducking and diving under the water. It was only after the most high pitched, ear shattering screams I'd ever heard started coming from the deep waters that anyone became aware just how far out he'd gone.
Standing on the shoreline, we could only all watch helplessly as dark rubbery flesh wrestled with human flesh. Agonized screams filled the air and then were muffled as his head was pulled under water with the rest of his body. On the clear ocean water, a froth began forming, and instead of a white foam, it bubbled red, as a pool of it mixed with the ocean, turning water into blood.
His wife, who we know knew to be Sun, stood screaming, but didn't even attempt to go in after him. She just stood screaming, in their native language, and then to our surprise, turned and yelled for our help in... English.
But it was too late.
After what seemed like an hour, or two hours, or... I can't describe how long it felt, his body, or what was left of it finally washed up on shore. Blood poured over the sand, and tinged the water, as his body fell into a limp, yet grotesquely and almost impossibly twisted way. There were huge gashes in his leg and in his neck, which almost completely severed his head from his body. One of his arms was missing, and tissue was falling out of his body from every roughly torn spot in his flesh.
His mouth was twisted in a look that I can only describe as pain, and all you had to do was look at him to know that he had suffered. He had suffered so much, it was unimaginable.
We all stood there just gawking, some in mock horror, others in disbelief, and some in just plain fascination. All of us except Sun, who took in the sight of his body, let out a low, inhuman moan, and took off running for the woods.
I glanced at Jack, for help, for direction, before it dawned on me that the woods were no safer than the deep sea.
"Jack!" I exclaimed, as I turned on my heel, and ran after her. I was vaguely aware of another set of footsteps following me, and possibly another, but I didn't look back. I had to stop her, before whatever it was that got the pilot got her.
"Sun!" I screamed, as vines and branches began whipping at me as I entered into the jungle after her. "SUN!" I screamed again. "Stop! Don't go any further!"
I came to a split in the trees, and I stoppped to listen, trying to see if I could hear which direction she was running. I could hear the footsteps behind me, and I could hear Sun's screams, but suddenly, I could no longer hear her footsteps. And suddenly, her screams sounded more like her husband's.
And I could hear that monstrous noise I'd heard before.
When the pilot got killed.
I froze, just listening to the mix of screams, panic rising in my throat as they sounded like they were coming nearer to me.
Out of nowhere, I felt myself tackled to the ground, and rolled behind a bush, a strong, calloused hand pushed over my mouth. I squirmed until I heard Jack's voice whisper in my ear. I fell silent, and still, and together we waited until it all stopped.
When everything went quiet, I started to get up, but Jack pulled me back again as a whoosh sound came flying through the air.
Something landed, with a sickening crack in the brush not even two feet in front of us.
...It was Sun's body, contorted in almost the same unfathomable way. Her neck was obviously broken, and one eye dangled from its socket.
I went to scream, but nothing came out. Nothing but my foot, which instinctively kicked the macabre face away from me, like it wasn't even real, like it was just some prop out of a horror movie, and I then turned and buried myself in Jack's chest.
"I guess some things just aren't meant to be," I whispered into his shoulder, indicating their survival of the plane crash, but their ultimate inability to survive it all.
((Open to Jack))
For my part, I was just trying to take it day by day. After all, despite the hunger and the potential danger, this wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to me. I was free. And I kept that in mind.
Jack did his best to keep everyone from freaking out anymore than they absolutely needed to, though some of them were just a little bit beyond reasoning. Like Shannon. High maintenance, drama queen type who went back and forth between tanning as though she would be heading back to Los Angeles or wherever a girl like that was from in no time, to acting like the world was over when she realized there was nowhere to sleep but outside, and that sleeping outside meant things like sandfleas and other kinds of bugs.
Then there were those who needed no reasoning at all. Like Sawyer. There's not much to reason with, with a jackass who knows everything, is there?
I guess the hardest to deal with were the two Asians. None of us spoke their language, or had any idea how to communicate with them, and the man, who most of us presumed to be the husband due to their wedding bands, and also, their inability to exist unless they were co-existing, was a stingy, stuck up bastard who ruled over his wife with a typical Eastern Iron Fist. The patriarchal tendancies had to be a cultural thing, because it wasn't like either of them was even half way attractive enough to be capable of infidelity.
Though, in my own silent opinion, I believed she probably rebelled against him in at least some major ways. Because it would be impossible to truly love or obey a man like that. Even if you were pathetic, or desperate, or just downright ugly.
I mean, I'm a criminal and I'm capable of having more functional relationships.
Not that it mattered. By the end of the day, they were both dead.
The guy, Jin, which is the name Hurley got off of the passenger manifest, was some sort of fishermen. One of the other survivors who knew a little bit about their culture said that that meant they were low class citizens, and that he had probably made his living off of fishing. He seemed a little out of practice though, and from the look of their clothes and luggage in the airport, it seemed a little too high end for a fishermen, which to the other survivor meant she probably came from money. And at some point, they had lived off of a bigger man than the husband himself. D-a-d-d-y.
I guess there's a lot you can tell about a person, just by looking at them. Or by watching them. By knowing a thing or two about their cultural background.
Me? I only knew what I needed to survive. So whether those things were true or not, was something I'd just have to take their word for.
What I didn't have to take word for, was that Jin did seem to have a knack for fishing. Not that anyone seemed all thast interested in what he caught. It's probably what made him head out for deeper waters. To find something better.
Only, in deeper waters...
There were sharks.
No one was watching, as he swam deeper, so there was no way anyone could have seen the dark dorsal fin looming through the water just a few feet from where Jin kept ducking and diving under the water. It was only after the most high pitched, ear shattering screams I'd ever heard started coming from the deep waters that anyone became aware just how far out he'd gone.
Standing on the shoreline, we could only all watch helplessly as dark rubbery flesh wrestled with human flesh. Agonized screams filled the air and then were muffled as his head was pulled under water with the rest of his body. On the clear ocean water, a froth began forming, and instead of a white foam, it bubbled red, as a pool of it mixed with the ocean, turning water into blood.
His wife, who we know knew to be Sun, stood screaming, but didn't even attempt to go in after him. She just stood screaming, in their native language, and then to our surprise, turned and yelled for our help in... English.
But it was too late.
After what seemed like an hour, or two hours, or... I can't describe how long it felt, his body, or what was left of it finally washed up on shore. Blood poured over the sand, and tinged the water, as his body fell into a limp, yet grotesquely and almost impossibly twisted way. There were huge gashes in his leg and in his neck, which almost completely severed his head from his body. One of his arms was missing, and tissue was falling out of his body from every roughly torn spot in his flesh.
His mouth was twisted in a look that I can only describe as pain, and all you had to do was look at him to know that he had suffered. He had suffered so much, it was unimaginable.
We all stood there just gawking, some in mock horror, others in disbelief, and some in just plain fascination. All of us except Sun, who took in the sight of his body, let out a low, inhuman moan, and took off running for the woods.
I glanced at Jack, for help, for direction, before it dawned on me that the woods were no safer than the deep sea.
"Jack!" I exclaimed, as I turned on my heel, and ran after her. I was vaguely aware of another set of footsteps following me, and possibly another, but I didn't look back. I had to stop her, before whatever it was that got the pilot got her.
"Sun!" I screamed, as vines and branches began whipping at me as I entered into the jungle after her. "SUN!" I screamed again. "Stop! Don't go any further!"
I came to a split in the trees, and I stoppped to listen, trying to see if I could hear which direction she was running. I could hear the footsteps behind me, and I could hear Sun's screams, but suddenly, I could no longer hear her footsteps. And suddenly, her screams sounded more like her husband's.
And I could hear that monstrous noise I'd heard before.
When the pilot got killed.
I froze, just listening to the mix of screams, panic rising in my throat as they sounded like they were coming nearer to me.
Out of nowhere, I felt myself tackled to the ground, and rolled behind a bush, a strong, calloused hand pushed over my mouth. I squirmed until I heard Jack's voice whisper in my ear. I fell silent, and still, and together we waited until it all stopped.
When everything went quiet, I started to get up, but Jack pulled me back again as a whoosh sound came flying through the air.
Something landed, with a sickening crack in the brush not even two feet in front of us.
...It was Sun's body, contorted in almost the same unfathomable way. Her neck was obviously broken, and one eye dangled from its socket.
I went to scream, but nothing came out. Nothing but my foot, which instinctively kicked the macabre face away from me, like it wasn't even real, like it was just some prop out of a horror movie, and I then turned and buried myself in Jack's chest.
"I guess some things just aren't meant to be," I whispered into his shoulder, indicating their survival of the plane crash, but their ultimate inability to survive it all.
((Open to Jack))