The Forgotten Island by David Sodergren

Author:David Sodergren [Sodergren, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Thriller, Adult, Travel
Amazon: B07H1NP295
Goodreads: 41595990
Publisher: Paperbacks and Pugs Books
Published: 2018-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

19

At the far end of the island, the fire roared again.

Lisa watched the flames, her arms manacled to a wooden pole above her head, the rusted edges scratching at her wrists. Darren lay undisturbed by the fire, his mushed-up body now little more than an inconvenience. His screams rang through her head. They had beaten his body until it was a broken mess, bringing their clubs down long after he had died, beating him to a pulp.

Darren.

Her friend.

Now they moved furtively through the shadows, avoiding the yellow light of the flames.

She tried to count how many. Ten, twenty, thirty…there were too many. As far as she could tell, they were all male. Most were naked, their scrawny penises dangling limply between malnourished legs. Some wore clothes, decaying tee-shirts clinging on by a thread, jeans worn through at the knees, and pockets that hung in tatters like flesh from a wound.

She wondered if Bret had escaped. It was her only chance, and she clung to it with grim determination. Glancing down at her cleavage, she saw the small baggie of pills still tucked into her bra. She longed for one, just one, to take the edge off the brain-twisting madness that surrounded her. Several of the creatures, or whatever they were, came towards the fire, dragging something. A sob caught in her throat as her last vestige of hope set sail.

Bret .

‘No,’ she whimpered as they dragged his carcass by the legs and dumped it next to Darren’s. Lisa wanted to make it all go away, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the grisly tableaux. One of the men stepped forward. What had once been a pair of overalls were draped around him like a shroud, stopping just above his genitals. A small hoop earring glinted in the firelight, dangling from a drooping lobe.

He carried an axe.

From a frayed pocket he pulled a pair of sunglasses; they looked like Ray-Bans, but were probably knock-offs. Lisa could have laughed at the absurdity had it not all been so terrifying. He kicked at Bret’s arms, spreading them out until he lay like Jesus awaiting the crucifixion. The others formed a semi-circle, watching expectantly. The Pale Man in the sunglasses raised the axe ceremonially, letting it hang in the air for several seconds, before issuing a guttural shriek. His followers responded in kind, the sound rising to a shrill cacophony until The Pale Man brought the tool down on Bret’s shoulder joint, severing the limb. Lisa screamed in horror as the bone cracked and gave way but no one paid her any attention. She pulled at her bonds but the steel cuffs dug in further, warm rivulets of blood running down her bare arms. The Pale Man raised the axe again and this time she did look away, hearing the thump as the axe hit the ground. Again, one blow was all it took.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she shouted, barely recognising her own voice. She sounded older somehow, a haggard old crone.

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