The thing about Skull Island is that it doesn't care who you were before you got here. Saint, sinner, bastard, beggar — it treats you the same: like meat. The jungle has no interest in your redemption arc. It just wants to eat you slow.
Three days had passed. Three days of dry rations (whatever the hell those gray bars were), suspicious water, and zero sign of civilization beyond makeshift tents and sharpened sticks.
Ava and I hadn't moved far from the clearing we found, but we kept eyes everywhere. The silence between us was comfortable now, broken only when necessary.
We didn't talk, we communicated. Difference.
She trusted me enough not to kill me in my sleep. I trusted her enough to let her walk behind me with a knife.
That's a bond.
But on day three, the jungle gave us a visitor. And I don't mean some rabbit or scaly lizard-thing. I mean someone. A boy, younger than me, maybe sixteen. Short, thin, eyes twitchy like he was used to flinching.
"Don't shoot," he said, hands up. "I'm not armed. I swear."
Ava had a bow pointed at him before I could blink. When the hell had she made a bow?
"Talk," she said.
"I ran from Mercer's camp," the kid said. "Name's Theo."
"Why run?"
"They're planning something."
Ava didn't lower the bow. "Everyone's planning something."
"No — I mean now. Tonight. Mercer's splitting his people into squads. They're taking zones. He's trying to unify ten countries under his banner in the first week."
I looked at Ava. She didn't react. But I saw the shift in her posture.
"We're not one of the countries he controls," I said. "Yet."
Theo nodded. "But he knows others are nearby. Small groups. Solo players. He wants to 'absorb' them."
He didn't say the word. But I felt it.
Conquer.
"You're saying Mercer's not just building a team. He's building a kingdom."
Theo nodded again. "And people who don't swear loyalty... they disappear."
Of course they do.
Mercer wasn't playing survival. He was playing empire.
That night, Ava and I made a call: relocate. Leave the edge of the jungle and move deeper, toward one of the inland rivers Theo claimed to have seen. Water, food, distance. It made sense.
Theo came with us, though I could tell Ava didn't love the idea. Not because she didn't trust him — but because she did.
People like Theo only run when they think they're next.
People like that survive.
"Why'd you come find us?" Ava asked as we marched under twisted branches and purple-leafed trees.
Theo hesitated. "Because I saw you two. First day. You didn't join Mercer. You moved smart. Quiet. I figured if anyone wasn't drinking the Kool-Aid, it was you."
Ava narrowed her eyes. "You've been watching us."
"Only a little."
"And yet you claim to be unarmed?"
"I said not armed. Doesn't mean I'm not dangerous."
Okay, the kid had some bite. Good. I could work with that.
We reached the river by midday — a sluggish, wide thing that smelled like iron and rot. Ava tested the water with a strip of leaf and something that hissed when it touched.
"Not safe," she muttered.
"We'll boil it," I said.
Theo looked up at the sky. "Still time before sundown. Think we're far enough from Mercer's reach?"
"No," Ava said. "But we're out of his eyes. That's something."
We set up camp — not a fire, just a tarp of leaves over a low pit. Quiet. Hidden. The three of us sat in a circle.
"I don't think Mercer just wants to survive," Theo said suddenly. "I think he wants to rule. Like, for real. Long term. Like he thinks this place is his second chance to be something big."
"That tracks," Ava said. "People like him don't follow. They colonize."
I nodded slowly. Mercer didn't just have a plan. He had intent. And Skull Island had just become his chessboard.
"Question is," I said, "what piece does that make us?"
Later that night, Theo fell asleep first. Ava and I took shifts. I took second.
As I watched the trees sway in a rhythm that didn't match the wind, I thought about Mercer again. About what Theo said. About the fact that I left one hierarchy just to step into another, this one made of sand, sweat, and knives.
And I thought about something else too.
Back in that smoky office in the First Gate of Hell, when the devil smiled and handed me the scroll… he never said how we'd win. Just that we could.
And that the winners would be reincarnated. Not returned to their old lives. Not restored. Just… rich. And alive.
So I wondered.
If I make it out of this…
What part of me makes it with me?
Somewhere else, in another zone.
Mercer stood over a map drawn in the dirt, lines etched with a soldier's precision. Around him, his five lieutenants listened in silence.
"We take Sector 7 by tomorrow. Push into the eastern ridge. Anyone resists, we offer terms once. If they say no…"
He stepped on the edge of the map, grinding one of the outlined "enemy" territories into dust.
"They're done."
One of his lieutenants — a woman with silver hair and eyes that didn't blink enough — spoke up. "And Jack Gulf? We've seen him moving north with a girl and a third. Should we intercept?"
Mercer didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked up at the sky, at the giant hourglass still pouring sand.
"No. Let him run," he said. "Let him feel safe. Let him think he matters."
He smiled.
"We'll need him later."
Back by the river, I stared up at the stars. They didn't look like Earth stars. Too red. Too close. Too fake.
Beside me, Ava whispered, "I don't like being prey."
I didn't answer.
Because neither did I.
But tomorrow…
We were going to do something about it.
[To be continued.]
Three Is Not a Crowd, It's a Liability
Morning hit like a hangover I didn't earn.
The sun on Skull Island doesn't rise — it erupts. Like someone slammed a torch in your face and screamed, "Wake the hell up, sunshine!" I groaned as I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes and dirt from my teeth.
Ava was already awake. Of course she was. Girl slept with one eye open and the other sharpening a blade.
Theo? Curled in the fetal position, murmuring something about soup. Not sure if it was a dream or a trauma loop, and I wasn't gonna ask.
I stretched and cracked my neck, then scanned the trees. No birds. No insects. Just stillness — the kind of stillness that tells you you're being watched, even if your brain hasn't caught up yet.
I hated that feeling.
"We move in twenty," Ava said, rolling up what passed for a bedroll. "River bends east a few klicks. Might be game trails, maybe even signs of a village. If this island even has those."
"And if it doesn't?" I asked.
"Then we keep moving until Mercer dies of ambition or indigestion."
"Comforting."
She didn't smile. She rarely did. But the corner of her mouth twitched.
Progress.
Theo tried to carry his share of the load, I'll give him that. Even though his boots were too big and his spine was made of sadness, he didn't complain much. Only when the bugs came.
And Skull Island has bugs.
One the size of my hand landed on his neck, and you'd think he got shot.
"GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF—!"
Ava flicked it off with a calm precision I could only dream of. "That was a whisper-wing," she said. "If it hums, you'll have nightmares for a week. If it bites, you stop dreaming forever."
Theo gagged. "WHAT?"
"It didn't bite," I muttered. "Yet."
He looked at me like I'd just kicked his cat. "You're both insane."
"No," I said. "We're adapting."
Around midday, we found something.
It wasn't a village. It wasn't a camp.
It was a post. Rusted metal dug into stone. A flagpole. Empty. No banner, no markings. Just standing there, like a forgotten monument in the middle of nowhere.
"What is this?" Theo asked.
"A claim," Ava replied. "Someone tried to mark this land. Probably abandoned now. Or they're dead."
I stepped closer. There was a carving at the base. Rough, like someone used a knife.
Sector 14 – Claimed by the Iron Pact
Trespassers will be absorbed or erased.
"Cute," I muttered. "Very Mercer-core."
Ava crouched beside the pole, fingers brushing the ground. "Tracks. Recent. At least five. Boots, light tread. Could be scouts."
"Think they saw us?"
She didn't answer right away. Just rose, brushing dirt off her palms.
"If they did, they didn't care enough to stay."
That should've comforted me.
It didn't.
We moved on, faster now. Trees thinned into jagged stone cliffs, and the river curved away to the south. No sign of Mercer's men. No more signs of the Iron Pact either.
But someone was out there.
That night, we made camp in a shallow cave. It smelled like mildew and something vaguely cat-like, but it beat open ground.
Ava took first watch. I took second. Theo was banned from watch duty until he stopped screaming in his sleep. (He insisted it wasn't fear — just high emotion.)
I sat near the mouth of the cave, watching fireflies that blinked in strange, rhythmic pulses. Almost like code.
"You're starting to look less like a suicide case," Ava said from the shadows.
"Thanks. You're starting to look like someone who might let me live."
She snorted.
"That's high praise from you," I added.
Another silence.
Then: "You're not useless. And you don't talk just to hear your own voice. I appreciate that."
Was that... a compliment?
"Don't get soft on me," I said.
She stood. Walked over. Sat beside me. Close enough that I could feel the heat of her.
"I won't," she said. "But Mercer will."
We stayed there a beat too long. Just… being.
It was weird.
Nice, but weird.
And of course, the moment was ruined.
Theo coughed from deeper in the cave. "I think I found bones!"
"Are they moving?" I called.
"No?"
"Then shut up and let them rest."
Next morning, we woke to a surprise.
Three people. Standing outside the cave. All armed.
Two men, one woman. Gear too clean. Faces too confident.
"Morning," the lead man said. Tall, blond, smile sharp as a razor. "You three are a long way from the safe zones."
"Didn't realize we needed a permit," I said.
Ava stepped forward, weapon in hand but not raised. "Mercer?"
The man chuckled. "No, no. We don't work for that tyrant. We're freelancers. Name's Calen. My team and I are… let's say 'recruiters.' We're forming our own faction. Interested?"
Theo perked up.
I did not.
"You want to team up?" I asked.
"Something like that. But not everyone makes the cut."
"What's the cut based on?" Ava asked. "Strength?"
"No," Calen said, smiling wider. "Loyalty."
Ava looked at me.
I looked at her.
And Theo? He looked interested.
Damn it.
We didn't answer right away. Calen and his team set up a small camp nearby. Said we could "think it over." Said they'd leave by sunset.
So we sat in a triangle again, Ava sharpening, me thinking, Theo fidgeting.
"They seem nice," Theo said.
"Serial killers seem nice before the stabbing," I replied.
"They have better weapons. Real gear. If we joined them—"
"Then we'd owe them. And when loyalty becomes currency, you spend your soul fast."
Theo didn't reply.
But I saw it in his face.
He wanted comfort more than freedom.
Ava made the call: we'd leave before they did. Avoid confrontation. Keep moving.
But the seed was planted.
And I couldn't help wondering how long before someone chose comfort.
Because Skull Island didn't just test your strength. It tested your will.
And sometimes…
The enemy isn't the man with the sword.
It's the voice in your head that says,
"Maybe this is good enough."
Somewhere in Sector 14...
Calen sat beside his fire, polishing a blade.
"Did they bite?" asked the woman beside him.
"Not yet," he replied. "But the kid's ripe. He'll follow soon. All we have to do is be better than whatever hell they're walking into."
She smirked. "And if they don't join?"
Calen smiled, a slow, cold thing.
"Then we recruit... posthumously."
[To be continued.]