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Jurassic Paradise



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Sat Feb 20, 2016 11:31 pm
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Wolfi says...



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Even amongst the shredded electric fences and blood-splattered cretaceous ferns, life finds a way.

You’re the one who signed up for this, you know.

---

Long ago, when Jurassic Park collapsed under the bloodied talons of ancient human-hungry lizards, Isla Nublar was bombed. Destroyed. Blown to smithereens, dinosaurs and all. After the deaths of so many innocent people, doing so was the most obvious course of action.

In just a few years, a new team of scientists were at work, determined not to make the same mistakes again with things such the park’s setup and faulty DNA sequences. But in the end, Ian Malcolm’s chaos theory still held true, and before long, the momentarily successful Jurassic World spiraled into an utter disaster.

This time, though, it was completely different. The whole planet knew about Jurassic World, whereas only a select few had known about the park. The decision about what to do with the island had been easy then, with Jurassic Park, but now, with a hugely popular international attraction turned upside down, it’s guaranteed all the breaking news coverage and every nasty cobweb of politics the world has to offer.

A good many agree that bombing the heck out of Isla Nublar would not only be the safest, quickest way to deal with the dinos, but also the best way to avenge the heart-shattering deaths of the Jurassic World victims.

But then there’s the whole other side, arguing that the dinosaurs shouldn’t be harmed at all. It’s not their fault that we brought them into the modern world and slipped up a few times. They don’t deserve to be killed. What about the plant-eating dinosaurs, who wouldn’t hurt a fly? Do they really deserve to have their lives cut short due to the bloodthirsty nature of their carnivorous brethren?

Among all this, there’s still the American military, clamoring for their standpoint on combat glory. The urge to train raptors and other intelligent carnivores hasn’t died down; if anything, the Jurassic World massacre has only encouraged them further.

What’s to be done? Several months have passed since Jurassic World closed, and things are far from settled. Attempts to isolate the remaining herbivores from the hungry carnivores have been nearly fruitless, and by now the island is a run-down dinosaur reserve, ridden with trampled fences and shattered Jurassic World attractions. It seems like no one wants to set foot on the island. A pack of velociraptors may be roaming the beaches or cluster of compsognathus could be making their home in an abandoned gift shop. A t-rex might be waiting on the docks, eyeing the horizon for the coming ships and growling in anticipation.

But then again, there are always those who can still ignore the horrors of Jurassic Park and World and see only the glimmering mirage of a successful attraction, the gem of success: a Jurassic Paradise.

Meet Walter Hammond Polk, multi-billion dollar entrepreneur and third cousin removed of John Hammond, the man who first made his dream come true and created Jurassic Park. It's this guy who dishes out the dollars to the members of an ultimate Isla Nublar exploration team, to see if it's worth buying the island and investing in a new attraction. Polk dreams of a third reincarnation of the park in a much more controlled fashion, with trained dinosaurs and a simpler, more exclusive layout.

He's planned to hire a chaos theorist, a dinosaur expert, a scientist, a survivalist, and two hunters from the Jurassic World days. He's also bringing his dinosaur-adoring grandson along and permitting two more people - a journalist and an eager tourist - rooms on his cruise ship to the island.

---

The Expert - Dr. Jorge Harrison (Steggy)
The Mathematician - Nigel Auguste (TheSilverFox)
The Youngster - Christopher Chase Polk (LeftyWriter)
The Survivalist - Anaxander "Ax" Fury (LordZeus)
The Scientist - Alex Harbor (TinyJarStoredDreams)
Hunter - Carson Anderson (TheForgottenKing)
Hunter - Richard L. Mercer (Birkhoff)
The Writer - Annabelle Quail (Wolfical)
The Tourist - Naomi Ramos (Noelle)
The Entrepreneur - Walter Hammond Polk (NPC)



Character Template:
Code: Select all
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Position:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Possessions:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Reason to be here:[/b]
[b]History:[/b]
[b]Favorite dinosaur:[/b]


Please subscribe to the DT for plot planning and extra information about the island. Contact Wolfical and/or Steggy if you have any questions.
John 14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled
and do not be afraid.





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Thu Mar 17, 2016 4:40 am
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Wolfi says...



Annabelle Quail - Friday, 10 AM

As she waited to board, Annabelle listened to the waves lapping peacefully against the salt-weathered pillars of the docks. Each salt water slap against the wood was another sardonic tick of time, mocking her silent aprehension. She was trying not to think too much about what she had gotten herself into, as there is never any good in worrying, but just the notion of boarding that ship made her stomach sink in dread. She wasn't even seabound yet but already felt seasick.

Clutching her notepad to her chest and resting her small suitcase at her feet, she leaned against a pillar and watched the seagulls, hoping to tear her mind off of the Polk case for just a little while longer. She smiled when she spotted a young gull at the edge of the docks, squawking at its mother to give it some food. When the mother didn't relent, the little one reached up and tapped her beak impatiently. Fine, the mother seemed to say. She turned around and opened her beak, ready to regurgitate her food. Annabelle quickly looked away. Her stomach was upset enough.

The soft rumbling of wheels across the dock's boards drew her attention to the shore where a young man was drawing near, his suitcase in tow. He seemed to be the dinosaur type, something she could tell before he even opened his mouth. He nodded towards the seagulls as he approached, his bespeckled almond-colored eyes sparkling in excitement. "They're a lot like dinosaurs, you know."

"How so?" She glanced at the baby gull who had settled in on its post, its belly full with the contents of its mother's gizzard. It tucked its beak into the crook of its wing and went to sleep.

"Well," the man said, a humble smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, "birds are considered feathered reptiles. Although we might not think of them in this way, birds have scales too. Feathers are produced by tissues similar to those that produce reptile scales, and in any case, birds have scales on their feet. They lay eggs, too."

Annabelle unlocked her digital notepad and hurredly started typing away. "I never realized that!" she said, flashing her most convincing set of fascinated eyes.

The man seemed excited to have an eager pupil, one that even went as far as to take notes as if they were in a lecture hall. "The soft anatomy, such as the musculature, brain, heart, and other organs, all are fairly similar. In some aspects, birds are more evolved, owing partially to their endothermic metabolism and their ability to fly. Some evidence even points to similar bone structure, especially prominent when comparing birds to dinosaurs like the Sinosauropteryx."

"Fascinating!" Annabelle whispered, typing faster.

"When Jurassic Park scientists first started examining real dinosaur DNA, in fact, I'm sure that this fact was confirmed."

"What do you mean?" Annabelle asked, pausing to look up from her notes and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "None of the dinosaurs have feathers, do they?"

The man shook his head, almost sadly. "The scientists had the power to switch off certain genes, and chances are, they decided to switch off the feather genes too."

"Why would they do that?"

"Dinosaurs with feathers? The world would have been appalled. They wanted to please their audience, show them something they're used to."

"What a shame." Annabelle finished typing, then looked back up at the man. "Thank you for that lesson, Mr..."

"Harrison." He offered his hand and she shook it. "Dr. Jorge Harrison."

"Annabelle Quail, journalist for the New York Times," she replied in turn. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you as well, Miss Quail. I'm assuming you're a member of the Polk expedition?"

"I am. It's been a few months since the world has been enlightened with any Jurassic World news, and so I'm hoping that a real-life report on the condition of the island will be well-accepted."

"I'm sure it will. And between the two of us, I'd much rather read about this expedition than be a part of it."

Annabelle's heart jumped. "Yeah? Was it Mr. Polk? Did he forcefully persuade you to join?" She immediately chided herself for acting so forceful. Play the part, Annabelle...

Jorge just shrugged, and before he could say anything else they heard the joyous voice of Mr. Walter Hammond Polk himself drifting from the shore. "Jorge, you're here!" The dinosaur expert smiled and waved back. Annabelle noted that he didn't seem particularly excited.

Polk was dressed in a colorful Hawaiian shirt, brightly spotted with yellow hibiscus flowers and fronds of pink ferns. The golden amber gem that hung around his neck glinted in the late morning sunlight. His body language professed the essense of ease and hope. His grandson, Christopher, walked beside him. Annabelle remembered reading about him in her files, and found it peculiar that Polk would put him in such danger. The boy seemed shy, but Annabelle noticed Jorge's same sort of intelligent glint in his eyes.

Polk took off his sunglasses and shook hands with Jorge as if they were old friends. "And you must be Annabelle, the writer," he said when he turned to her. When she nodded he took her hand and kissed it. Typical rich guy. Annabelle cringed internally, supressing the urge to wipe her hand off.

"What are we waiting for?" Polk asked, spreading his hands. "Let's board the ship!"

Annabelle sucked in the fresh sea air and plastered on her best smile. She wanted to stay on that dock forever to watch the baby seagull sleep or listen to the lapping waves. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn't. She had a job to do.

Silently kissing the sweet California shore goodbye, she ducked her head and boarded the ship.
John 14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled
and do not be afraid.





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Thu Mar 17, 2016 10:27 am
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Steggy says...



Dr. Jorge Harrison - 9 A.M.

He was walking around, bored and alone. Jorge didn't mind cruise ships, his father would often take his son with him on trips. Sea sickness seemed irrelevant. The cruise ship he was on wasn't like the one his father went on. It was spacious, full of the proper stuff that could keep a single person occupied for hours upon end. There were paintings in the hallways of old men in fancy brown suits, tables with assortment of flowers, and doors leading into rooms and other places of the cruise ship. The dinosaur expert stopped at one of the paintings, moving his hands behind his back and stared blissfully at it.

"Perhaps I'll be one of the greats," he thought aloud. Even though Jorge felt he wasn't as popular in the dinosaur community, it was noticed by many that his work in the field was beyond amazing. He had often imagined being given something to use his knowledge against, only having the information stuffed within his small brain. Jorge sighed, moving away from the painting. A sad feeling crept in his chest. Why? He didn't know.
There were some small circular windows that showed the sea and the cloudy sky. The sea seemed endless, only meeting the sky at a certain point. Jorge had remembered a tale his father told him, about how the sky and the ground wanted to be together only to be separated by the jealous water. He gazed out into the sea, drifting into a daydream of what Polk meant. Dinosaurs in parks. It was done before. That kind of stuff.

He moved away from the window once again, continuing to his room. Polk had stated briefly that there was libary somewhere on the ship. It excited the man. He loved books but mostly books about dinosaurs. His suitcase would be a perfect place to steal the books (even though Polk stated that they were free to have). Jorge sighed, his pace quickening. Was he in a hurry? He wasn't sure. Everything that was happening was something worth wild. A rare experiment that was limited to few people. It was thrilling to know that Jorge was picked.

A few steps and he reached his room. Jorge swiftly opened the door, and entered his room. A single bed laid with his suitcase (the crew mates had offered to take his stuff while he looked around). There was a single desk in the corner of the room, set atop was a lamp, notebook, and a clock. A sliding glass door lead out into a patio, which looked out to the sea. Two beach chairs were on the porch.
Walking towards the suitcase, he looked at the clock. Even though it was nine in the morning, it felt as if the morning was over. He knew, however, there was more to come.
Jorge zipped up his suitcase, before dumping his clothes on the bed. Hurriedly, the dinosaur expert exited the room.

-----


Across the deck on the other side. Seemed simple enough. Only his expected plan was shortly stopped by a girl. They spoke shortly, speaking about the comparison between dinosaurs and birds. She was a woman in her early twenties with long dirty blonde hair and wearing a yellow tank top and jeans. The woman looked American with a faint touch of Chinese. Jorge thought nicely of her, perhaps a friend on this cruise ship. When they were talking (mostly him speaking), she seemed to be nodding along staring at a single baby gull.
She had a pretty name - Annabelle Quail. It sounded like a fairy tale princess of the sort. They bidded goodbye and went on with their lives.

His suitcase rolled slowly behind him, creating a beat. The smell of the sea filled his brain, triggering some small memories of his father and their trips. Jorge often stopped to gaze out to the gloomy weather. He continued walking until reaching a small door to his left. He peeked in, seeing a large room with a single bookshelf to one side. Moving his hand from holding onto his black roller and opened the door. The smell of old books welcomed him as he grinned. He spent two hours in there, reading.
A pile had formed around him, creating a barrier of the imagination from reality. When he left, Jorge pocketed ten books (out of the thousand he read) and continued on his way. Annabelle wasn't on the dock when he came back. Perhaps she went to her room, Jorge thought.

He hoped that perhaps they would be nearing the island soon. Jorge was all about dinosaurs. Perhaps it was the feeling he got when he looked at ones in books. The chance of seeing one, walking and eating, was something of a dream to the young dinosaur expert. At first, when Polk offered him the idea, he thought the old man was drunk (since they met while drinking in a bar). Then Polk continued talking and talking, spewing information about the single island.

"Even though it has happened before," Polk had stated. "I rest assure you, we won't have the same mistakes." Shortly after, Jorge agreed. Perhaps it was the money that Polk offered. Money is the sin that creates and breaks worlds apart.
I am a hopeless cause if I get tempted by money, Jorge had thought. It wasn't like him to want money; a natural human instinct, if you will.

He made it back to his room, setting his black roller on the left side of his bed then falling onto his bed. He groaned, turning over onto his back. Jorge sat up and reached for his black roller. Unzipping it, colorful and dull book covers welcomed him. He eagerly took the first one, Lord of the Flies. It was centered on a island, where four boys try to stay alive on a small island. Jorge had always loved the classics, and perhaps would die without them. As he was reading the novel, he began to think: what if what had happened in Lord of the Flies, how would we react?
You are like a blacksmith's hammer, you always forge people's happiness until the coal heating up the forge turns to ash. Then you just refuel it and start over. -Persistence (2015)

You have so much potential and love bursting in you. -Omnom





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Fri Mar 18, 2016 2:03 am
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TheSilverFox says...



Professor Nigel Auguste – Friday, 10:15 AM

When he arrived, locking his rented car as he exited and stepped on the San Diego docks, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer size and display of exorbitant display of wealth that was the cruise ship. Even if his morals weren’t quite in agreement with the man who owned it.

Walter Hammond Polk was there to greet him personally. For a 72-year-old man, he looked healthy and imposing, the embodiment of grace and ease in his ridiculous Hawaiian shirt and the golden amber gem draped around his neck. Nigel could, if he squinted hard enough, see the fly in the amber. Of course, he didn’t do so while Mr. Polk was observing – that would be rudeness, even if he wasn’t a great fan of this man, both because of his wealth and his motivation. Regardless, he did find it fascinating. An organism that had long ago suffocated and became encased in a hard shell. He hoped it wasn’t prophetic.

“Why, good morning!” Mr. Polk said in an animated fashion, as he gripped Nigel’s hand in a firm but friendly handshake. “You must be the chaos theorist who has been of such notice lately. Welcome!”

“Thank you, sir,” Nigel replied respectfully and in a humble fashion. “Although I didn’t know I was of any fame.”

“Ah, yes,” replied Polk. “Ever since you personally volunteered, I’ve read some of your work. I wouldn’t call myself a scientist – more of an adventurer – but I must admit I’ve found your research on chaos theory among animal populations to be fascinating. Besides, any man with the guts to come to me personally and volunteer is impressive in my book.”

“Thank you,” repeated Nigel. He wasn’t much for small talk. It especially felt awkward talking to somebody far richer than he was, a man with all of the power and control over Nigel’s, as well as the entire expedition’s, life on his hands and the ability to manipulate it. And, given that they were going to sail towards an island of bloodthirsty dinosaurs, that did not alleviate his worries. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come on board. I don’t want to be bothering you any longer.”

“Of course! Go on ahead!” replied Polk, stepping out of the way to allow Nigel to board before walking behind him. “I had just gone to greet you and introduce you to some of our fellow expedition members.”

Nigel noted the way Polk emphasized the word “expedition” and “adventurer” as they walked across the deck of the boat. Obviously, this man seemed to fancy himself as some kind of explorer. Which concerned Nigel all the more. It made him question Mr. Polk’s professionalism and competency in his mind. The last two attempts had been done by professional scientists with optimistic minds too idealistic to notice the influence of greed, the key factor in the degeneration of many of the most hopeful ideas. But this man? He’d seemed intelligent, sophisticated, and persuasive in the past. Now, however, he did not seem to communicate the rigor and attention to detail of a focused scientist. Nigel wondered if this was some kind of façade. However, it was too late for him to turn back now. He just had to hold on and hope that Polk was intelligent and capable enough to assure the survival of at least most of the people in the expedition. Which he personally was beginning to doubt.

A young woman stood on the deck of the cruise ship, watching them carefully as they arrived. She was definitely American, but also looked a little like she was of Chinese descent. Regardless, she seemed decent and friendly enough, which Nigel was fine with. She smiled at them as they drew near, and Polk stood out of the way as he introduced her.

“Nigel, this here is Annabelle Quail, the reporter who’s joined us for this journey. Annabelle, this is Nigel Auguste, a professor who specializes in chaos theory,” said Polk with his pacifying, friendly expression.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Annabelle as she and Nigel shook hands. “So, you’re a professor?”

“I hope to be one,” explained Nigel, “I’m only an assistant professor right now, so not exactly of professor caliber all that yet, although I may be soon. Who are you a reporter for?”

“The New York Times,” replied Annabel with pride.

“Impressive,” said Nigel with a respectful smile. As a rule, he wasn’t a great fan of reporters. They always seemed to have a knack for glorifying a story more than it deserved to be, and seemed to love distorting facts to suit their pre-conceived conclusions, which had never satisfied him. However, he couldn’t but be impressed at her status as a reporter for such a prestigious newspaper. Obviously, Mr. Polk had spared no expense nor strived for anything less than the most professional people in his expedition. Which, while he questioned Mr. Polk’s competency, was of some comfort. Although, given the inevitable nature of greed, such relief could yet come to naught.
The resulting few seconds were met with awkwardness, as Nigel had nothing more to say. Besides, Annabelle seemed more focused and curious on Mr. Polk. Nigel surmised that he was largely to be the focus of the story she was plotting. This didn’t surprise him. However, Mr. Polk subsequently heard a noise from the general area of the docks, completely ignoring Annabelle in the process.

“Well, feel free to make yourselves comfortable on board,” said Mr. Polk as he stepped over to the ship’s railing and looked below, though his voice was slightly muffled by his doing so. “I’ve asked the crew to come shortly and show you your rooms, and make sure to instruct you about the various commodities and rooms here. I see we have a new visitor, so I had best make my leave and introduce them.” Before he stepped towards the ship’s entrance, he turned, smiled, and said the following, which slightly unnerved Nigel:

“Welcome to Jurassic Paradise! I believe you’re going to have the times of your lives.”


******

Mr. Polk had been true to his word. Soon Nigel found himself relaxing on the bed of one of the large, spacious rooms that had been provided for him. Though he surmised that all passenger rooms on this ship most likely looked like this one – except perhaps for Mr. Polk’s, which probably looked better – he was impressed with the general quality and appealing nature of the room. He had never been seasick in his entire life, having sailed across the Atlantic a few times previously to attend conferences with other professors (after all, he was part of a notable university, and was well-respected by the school staff), so he had no worries there. Thus, he disregarded the small case of pills that had been set on his bed in case of the contrary.

A quick investigation of the ship beforehand had revealed nothing in particular. In the library, he had opened the door to find a man crouched in the center, opening up and pouring through the many books in the library. The casually-dressed man had seemed so enthralled and distracted by these books that Nigel had felt it rude to wake him from whatever had caught so much of his attention. Nigel had had that feeling many times before in the past, and it had always been frustrating to be knocked out of his passion and fascination by reality. Thus, especially as the man didn’t regard him in the slightest, Nigel had closed the door and continued onward. He surmised that the man was yet another person Mr. Polk had asked to join the expedition. The man seemed to be some kind of science enthusiast. Or maybe just a bibliophile. From what Nigel remembered about the time he’d volunteered to join the expedition, Mr. Polk had said he’d hired a dinosaur expert. Perhaps this man was the expert?

Otherwise, there had been nothing else of note. Annabelle had apparently vanished to her room. Nigel remembered having heard of Mr. Polk’s grandchild in attendance, sailing alongside with him (a decision he thought infinitely reckless and dangerous, for obvious reasons) but he'd most likely left to their own rooms. Perhaps he was romping around the docks and waiting with Mr. Polk as the other members of the expedition arrived, and had simply strayed away when Nigel had arrived. With children, you honestly never know. And Nigel wasn’t concerned. Given that he was now on a somewhat large cruise ship, one still stuck in the middle of the ocean for a few days until it arrived at their destination, with the crew and an assortment of passengers who had nowhere else to go, he knew that he would meet them eventually.

After a while of sitting on the side of the bed, gazing out the window at the partly cloudy skies as they displayed themselves in a somewhat gloomy sky above the seemingly infinite sea, merging at the horizon, Nigel decided to pass the time. Opening his suitcase and pulling out his trusty laptop and activating it, he placed it upon the desk. A few clicks later and he activated his note-taking software. Opening a file marked “Isla Nublar,” he pondered his first few words for a minute or two, and eventually began to type his first entry into the journal.

Day 1. Presently on the cruise ship. It doesn’t appear to be moving, and I haven’t left my room in some time, so I’m not sure Polk is accepting new passengers or has already set sail. Though I believe I will receive an announcement about it soon enough. To quote the words of something I’d read once, ‘I’m alive, which is one comfort.’

For how long, though, is something I’m not sure of.
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.





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Fri Mar 18, 2016 10:41 pm
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TinyJarStoredDreams says...



Alex Harbor




I exited my cab leaving a hefty 20 dollar tip as I did, not exactly paying attention to the task at hand, but the one approaching. I gripped the handle of my forest green suitcase hard, wincing every time I hit a bump in fear that my slides or microscope might break.

"Get to your room, get to your room, get to your room..." I mumbled quickly over and over again the huge ship now in sight.

I was greeted by a man in a floral shirt who I promptly just gave a short smile and nod at before quickly continuing onto the ships deck.

"Miss! I need to speak with you." I stopped in my tracks still mumbling the same short phrase over and over.

"Ah sorry to stop you but I suppose we can't go without introductions." The old man smiled and stuck out a hand for me to shake, I didn't. "Well then, I'm Walter Polk and you must be...?"

"Alexandra Harbor, call me Alex." I said quickly looking at my hands that were now rubbing together quickly.

"Well Miss. Harbor, let's get you to your room." Mr. Polk said reaching for my suitcase before I quickly yanked it away. He nodded and started walking towards my new room continuing to attempt to converse with me while I simply ignored him and took in the ships beauty.

It was massive to start off with. Nothing like I had seen before and its unique design had my eyes enchanted with wonder.

"Here we are!" Polk said gleefully as if glad to get me out of his hands.

"Thank you sir." I said louder and forcing myself to slow down and genitally take the keys from his vein covered hand.

As soon as I was in my room I ripped open my case and started setting up my mini lab that I would have to use while on the ship. I cleared a desk and started placing my microscope, my tools for replication, notebook, my slides, a couple droppers, and a lot of little other things. I took my lab coat out and smiled as I sniffed in the smell of chemicals and laundry detergent. It's a weird mix but it's comforting.

I walked out to the balcony and laughed at the wind whipped through my short hair making it fly everywhere. I smiled to myself for a bit till I looked to the right. There was a man standing there looking at me and smiling. He seemed to be wearing some sort of army uniform and he was quite attractive to be frank. He waved at me and I waved softly back before dipping back inside embarrassed. I gathered myself and then went out to go and explore the rest of the ship.

I found myself in the dinning area where they had already laid out a couple snacks. I helped myself to a plate of cheese and crackers and found a seat in one of the luxurious chairs. I was quite enjoying myself until a handful of people came in talking very loudly and I froze.

Spoiler! :
Gosh she is SUCH a weirdo!
How the hell are we suppose to look forward to the future if we aren't sure if we will be alive in the next 20 seconds?





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Fri Mar 25, 2016 10:33 pm
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Lefty says...



Christopher Chase Polk - Thursday, 2pm

"Chris, you're going to be late!"

"I know! I know!" He dumped a drawer of various nicknacks onto his bed and riffled through it. He couldn't leave without it. He just couldn't.

"Chris, if we don't leave now you're going to miss your flight!" his mother hollered from downstairs, her warnings growing more urgent.

"Hang on a second!" he called back. "I can't find it!"

"Find what?"

Christopher's heart pounded as he gave up on the stuff piled on his bed and hurried back into his closet. He flung open another drawer and continued his search.

"Christopher Chase Polk! Get your butt down here-"

His fingers wrapped around the rim of an old red cap. His heart jumped, and he yanked it out from under a pile of socks. Found it. The old cap his grandfather had given him when he was just a little boy. The one with the Jurassic Park logo on it. Only a dozen of them were made, and Christopher had been lucky enough to own one.

He pulled his gray hoodie over his head and positioned the cap snuggly on his head, then yanked his over-filled backpack up off the ground and bolted for the stairs. He didn't want to know what came after 'Christopher Chase Polk, get your butt down here.'

"There you are!" she said. "What is your grandfather going to say if you miss your flight?"

All he did was shrug, and with a sigh of exasperation, his mother prompted him out the door. He didn't like it when his mom was like this, especially when it was because of him. No matter what he did, he felt like he wasn't good enough.

Thursday, 3pm

The blue screens with all the times of planes coming and going glowed above Christopher's head. His mother handed him his boarding pass. "Don't lose this. You need it to get on the plane. It's at gate 67 and it leaves in..." she checked her watch. "...twenty minutes. Okay! Um..." Her words sped up even more. "Your grandfather will be waiting for you at the airport in California and..."

"Mom."

"...remember to take off anything metal when you go through security. Did you forget anything? Tooth brush? Clean socks? Cell phone? Because if you forgot your cell phone then you won't be able to call!"

"Mom!"

She stopped talking and took a breath for the first time in what must have been five minutes.

"I have everything I need. I know where I'm supposed to go. You don't have to worry about me."

She sighed. "It's just... this is your first flight by yourself. And I can't say I'm very happy about the idea of you going to Isla Nublar."

"Mom, it's just a three day trip," he said with chuckle. "I'll be fine."

She gave him a smile, then wrapped her arms around him. She was going to miss him, even if it was only a few days. He was growing up so fast. "Try to have fun, okay? And call as often as you can."

"I will."

6 Hours Later...

Christopher stretched his arms as he departed the plane and started down the ramp into the LA airport. The time change meant that it was only 5pm, but to Christopher it was more like 9pm. His mother had been fretting over him flying on his own for weeks, but it didn't bother Christopher in the slightest. He was an adventurer at heart, just like his grandfather. He was destine for great things... once he grew over 5'5''.

He scanned the crowds of people swarming around the gate, and his eyes fell onto a white sign with big handwritten letters that read: Mr. Polk. The man holding that sign, was Walter Hammond Polk, his grandfather-and the man he looked up to more than anyone.

A smile spread across his face and he threw his backpack over his shoulder, eager to greet his grandfather. Walter tried to visit as often as he could, but lately with all the planning for his excursion, Christopher hadn't seen him in a whole month.

"Hey, Champ!" Walter threw his arm around his grandson and pulled him into a side hug. With his free hand, he tapped the brim of Christopher's hat. "I see you still have the cap I gave you. Seems fitting for an occasion such as this, doesn't it?" He chuckled. "How was your flight?"

"It was alright," Christopher said with a shrug. "Kinda long."

"Nah... You haven't seen a long flight until you've been on a non-stop from Hawaii to Australia. Now that is a lengthy trip."

Christopher smirked at that, the skin under his eye rising just enough for Polk to notice the slight bruising that had turned the skin there a deep purple.

"Got into another fight at school did you?" Polk said, getting a closer look. "Well, one thing is for sure. Those bullies are worse than the raptors. Am I right?"

Friday, 10:15am

Christopher had always seen big cruise ships coming and going from the docks near his house back in Florida, but he'd never actually been on one. He didn't have anything to compare his grandfathers boat to, but from the moment he stepped foot onto the ship, he was in awe of the polished decks and fancy paintings. The burgundy carpet with regal patterns and the light fixtures that were made to look like fancy candle holders. But what really took him by surprise was the size of the rooms... and the fact that he would get one all to himself. This was turning out to be a great trip, and they hadn't even left the docks yet.

He lugged his backpack up onto his queen-sized bed and took a moment to really let it sink in. He was on a cruise ship docked on the west coast, the coast he'd never gotten to see before, and he was about to go to an island where he would see real dinosaurs in the flesh. It was the dream. And as he sat there, looking out the window at the crystal-blue ocean glistening in the bright California sun, he realized that he needed this trip more than he ever realized.

It had been a rough few years. Most kids his age had lost their interest in dinosaurs years ago. And one of the main reasons he had trouble with bullies was because he hadn't. They teased him for still playing with dinosaur toys. They told him to grow up. But what they didn't realize was that it wasn't just some little-kid interest he'd never let go of. It was a passion. And maybe, just maybe... this trip would make it all worth while.
Hear me out, there's so much more to life than what you're feeling now. Someday you'll look back on all these days, and all this pain is gonna be invisible. - Hunter Hayes





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Wolfi says...



Walter Hammond Polk - Friday, 5pm

Polk puffed out his chest and sucked in the salty air between his teeth. He loved nothing better than the sight of an open ocean, flawless and perfect and beautiful, free from the pattern-altering blemishes of land. The sun was cradled gently in a sky of spotless blue, purifying the eternal waters all the more with a pristine azure reflection. With a satisfied sigh, Polk reentered his suite. It was almost time for dinner, and he had to spruce up.

After applying beeswax to dry lips, a comb to windblown and wiry hair, and polish to his good luck charm, the mosquito-in-amber necklace, Polk swept out of his suite with the gleaming and pompous aura of a dinosaur adventurer. Gliding down the hallways and feeling as light as a pterodactyl feather, Polk decided that he had never felt happier in his entire life.

He was doing it. Hundreds had told him it was stupid, but he didn't care. He was going to tackle the dinosaurs himself, if it was the last thing he'd do. Isla Nublar, here I come.

It had taken him almost seventy years to realize that his life held little value. Money-wise, he was bloody rich. But quality-wise, he was a miserable, cardboard sign-toting beggar who yearned to fill a gaping hole in his heart with all the things that he was missing. Polk had never been blind to that hole; in fact, he tried for all of his life to fill it. But like sand through a sieve the money and successes of an entrepreneur could only fill that hole for a fraction of time.

What he was really missing was something much greater. He was missing his purpose in life, the one thing that, once achieved, fits snugly into the hole of his heart and doesn't budge for as long as he has left to live. That purpose, as he told himself the night of Jurassic World's collapse, was to take the dinosaurs into his own hands, and to mold their lives into something bigger and better.

Polk, his very best smile planted on his face, strode into the dining room and took his place at the head of the table. After doing a quick head count, he was pleased to note that everyone was already there.

Expectant faces met his eyes at every angle. The guards had their arms crossed and eyebrows cocked. The expert, tourist, and survivalist had struck up an excited conversation about dinosaurs, but quickly silenced themselves when they saw him. The writer was certainly expecting some flamboyant speech, and had her digital notepad and recorder out in front of her. The scientist, who had found comfort hidden in a corner with a handful of cheese and crackers, scooted her chair closer. His grandson was drumming his fingers on the edge of the table, his kind eyes smiling in encouragement. The mathematician, his arm draped over the back of his chair, maintained the essence of ease and confidence, but held a shadow of critical analysis in his eyes.

Polk smiled broadly and spread his arms. "Look at this," he said. "All of you, gathered here together in the united hope of preserving a beautiful group of ancient species. Welcome, my friends, to the Jurassic Paradise expedition!"

Nigel sat up. "That's what we're calling this? Jurassic Paradise?"

Polk's heart sunk the smallest fraction of an inch, fearing that he would already be receiving criticism. "Yes, I thought it was fitting. We do not aim to please people and guests for commercial reasons. We aim to provide a peaceful haven for the dinosaurs."

"If I may, sir," Richard, one of the hunters, said, "they're happy as they are. Try to interfere with the ecosystem they've already established and you might as well call it, if you'd excuse me, Jurassic Hell."

"He might be right, Mr. Polk," Carson said. "Sixty-five million years ago, the dinosaur world was hell. No place for humans, if you ask me."

Polk smiled again, as if trying his best to convince a child that broccoli is delicious. "Will it be dangerous? Of course. But both of you, Mr. Mercer and Mr. Anderson, have seen and have approved of the excellent technology we have on board the ship."

"I don't mean to burst your bubble in any way, Mr. Polk," Nigel said, "but you did hire a chaos theorist for a reason."

"Go on, Nigel."

"As Dr. Malcolm once said, 'Life finds a way.'"

"A way to do what? Kill us all?"

"No, not directly. Life on Isla Nublar will find a way to continue on its own in the best way that it possibly can. Right now, it's not doing well. Before its death, the Indominus Rex murdered countless herbivores and left them to rot away. In a normal circumstance, just enough of these creatures would be killed and then all of them would be eaten, keeping the ecosystem healthy and balanced. But of course, the chaotic events of the island have thrown every species together, leaving the predator to prey scale hugely off balance. In short, there are too many meat-eaters and not enough meat."

"And what you're saying is that we would be the perfect source of meat."

"Yes, that's an undeniable fact. But time and time again have shown that dinosaurs care not whether they are hungry or full. If they see easy prey, especially prey that seems to be messing around in their territory, that prey will be dinner. A growling stomach will only make matters worse. The world has seen plenty of angry dinosaurs, but a hungry one is something else entirely."

Polk eyed the mathematician suspiciously. "Nigel, why did you agree to come here, if you believed that this quest would be so dangerous?" He didn't really know why, but Polk was afraid that the reason would be money. I guess I hoped they had all actually wanted to come, like Christopher or the tourist, and the money bribe was only an added bonus.

Nigel sighed. He glanced down at his hands, where he had crafted a miniature paper airplane with his napkin. Looking back up, he winked at Christopher and flicked the plane across the table. Finally, he asked, "Why are any of us here today?" When no one spoke their mind, he probed further. "Mr. Polk, you've invited a dinosaur expert, a few guards, a scientist, and even a mathematician like me to join you on this expedition, but at the moment it looks like we're really in need of a psychologist. Someone who can tell us why we're all here."

Christopher, fingering the meticulously perfect paper plane, turned to his grandfather, and Polk saw worry welling in his eyes. Dammit! Polk's chest started to boil in anger, but quickly he made sure to keep his cool. There was no need for these people to lose faith in his idea. All he would have to do was reel them in, with a few doses of persuasion hooked on the line.

Polk opened his mouth, but at exactly the same time a row of waiters burst through the double doors and began to serve dinner.

"Well then," Polk said. "I hope you all enjoy lamb chops."
John 14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled
and do not be afraid.





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TheForgottenKing says...



Carson

"Enjoy the lamb chop??" I mutter to myself, as I leave the room. He didn't understand the dangers awaiting us. Surely something bad was going to happen. I could just feel it. The even more important question was, what was I doing here? This could only end badly.

I entered my room, and immediately picked up the case leaning lightly next to the bed. I opened it and began assembling my Scar-H rifle, a standard assault rifle used by Special Forces. I heard a knock on the door and turned towards Richard Mercer, the other man hired on as a hunter slash guard. I gestured for him to enter as I picked up my case of special bullets I had made before arriving.

Mercer picked up a bullet, raising an eyebrow." Armor piercing?" He asked curiously. I shrugged."These dino's are big things. I made these to cut through tank armor. And there's a special present in the bullet itself. When it impacts and begin cutting through whatever I shot, it's going to ooze out a toxin. It's gonna knock whatever I hit out cold. They're going to be paralyzed, long enough for me to get the hell out."

Mercer cocked his head. I shrugged."These are dinosaurs. Velociraptors even. Every single experiment with these islands always included a nasty bit of raptors always killing off anyone they didn't like. I'm not looking to stay my ground and fight them off. If the bullets don't kill em, the toxins will slow 'em down."

I turned back to the case."I'll have 8 rifle magazines of them, and three pistol clips. At that point I've got Chelsae." I said, gesturing towards the Parang hanging from the doorknob. I turned around and faced Mercer." Dude, this isn't the Taliban I'm fighting, or Al-Queda. These things are the perfect Hunter. And it would hurt like hell to become lunch. I just hope we get off the island before they know we're there."

I began repacking my backpack, finding enough room to put in an extra rifle magazine. Mercer left the room silently and I shrugged away the bad feeling I was getting, and rubbed my Rabbits's foot for a little bit of luck. We could sure use it. A year or so ago, the Military has sent in SEAL team 8 to recover some "research." They never came back. And we were going In their with a bunch of civvies? I had good reason to be freaked out.
"I make my own luck"- Shay Patrick Cormac





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LordZeus says...



Anaxander "Ax" Fury


Ax Fury whistled as he strode towards the luxurious crew ship. It was very large, Ax guessed that Mr.Polk had spared no expense on the trip. As he walked up the gangplank, he saw that Mr.Polk was waiting at the top to greet him.

"Hello." he said, shaking Mr.Polk's outstretched hand.

"Hello, Ax." replied Mr.Polk. "I'm glad you came. This is going to be possibly the greatest adventure in history!"

"I have to admit, I'm very excited for this! Now, please tell me, where is my room?"

Mr. Polk called over a deckhand and said, "This man will lead you to your room. Get yourself settled in, and then you may wander the ship until dinner."

Ax nodded and followed the deckhand. After opening his suitcase and placing everything where he needed it to be, he decided to go for a walk on the deck.
He strode onto the deck and noticed a woman leaning against the railing. Well, she's certainly good looking. he thought. Also, it'll probably be good to get acquainted with my fellow expedition members.He smoothed down his shirt and went up to introduce himself.

"Hello." he said with a smile as he came up next to her. "I guess that you too are a part of this expedition."

The woman turned to him with a smile and said< "Hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Annabelle Quail, the journalist."

At that, Ax froze. He had hoped to avoid the press on this journey, as he knew they would swarm on him like flies due to his reputation. In fact, he had had to use a stunt double at the airport to get away safely! Ah well, can't be helped. he thought with remorse.

"The name's Ax Fury. You've probably heard of me." said Ax with a feeling of dread.

Annabelle looked at him curiously. "Um...not really, actually."

Ax's jaw dropped. "Are you...serious?"

Annabelle's smile now looked forced as she carefully replied, "Um...yes."

Ax shook his head. "The great survivor? The spirited adventurer? The reclusive legend? You've never heard of me?!"

Annabelle looked at him blankly.

Ax continued. "I wrote My Nine Weeks of Hellfrost...it was a nation-wide bestseller!"

Annabelle then smiled again and said, "Well, I do distantly recall hearing your name somewhere...but not much. Sorry."

"It's all right." replied Ax, but he was suspicious now as he regarded her. No real reporter or journalist wouldn't have heard of me. he thought grimly.


A few hours later, Ax walked into the dining hall and surveyed the room. He saw the journalist in a corner but didn't approach after the events of earlier that day. He was sure that there was something up with her, but wasn't quite sure what. He noticed two other people talking about dinosaurs at another table. Interested, he walked towards there.

"Hello." he said and introduced himself. "May I sit with you?"

"Certainly." replied the man to his left with a smile. "I'm Dr.Jorge Harrison, the expert invited on this journey."

"And I'm Naomi Ramos." said the woman to his right. "I'm just a dinosaur enthusiast to whom Mr.Polk has given the chance of a lifetime."

Jorge then said, "Ms.Ramos and I were just debating which dinosaur would be more dangerous to come across:A Velociraptor or a T.Rex. I believe that it would be the raptor. Naomi, however, does not agree with me."

Naomi smiled and said, "Well, of course I don't. A T.Rex is far larger and stronger than a Velociraptor. It has tremendous jaw strength and run incredibly fast. How could the raptor compare to that?"

Jorge shook his head. "I am sorry, but that does not mean that it is more dangerous. Ax, perhaps you would like to weigh in?"

Ax grinned, glad to share his knowledge of the topic. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Jorge on this one."

Naomi frowned. "But why?"

Ax said, "Well, to start with, T.Rex usually only move alone or in pairs. That reduces the ground they can cover, and they have only a limited number of attack strategies available due to this. T.Rex also have a bad eyesight. If you remain still, they can't see you. Of course, they can smell you out, but if you cover that, then you''re safe. Also, if they fall down, they can't get up again due to their tiny arms. But, more than the others, the T.Rex's brain size is very small in proportion to its body. The can be more easily outwitted and tricked. That's an advantage we have over them. On the other hand, Velociraptors are quick, agile, and far more intelligent. They hunt in packs of up to a dozen members, and can plan to attack in any way. They have even been known to figure out how to open doors!"

Naomi frowned, and looked like she was about to reply, but then Mr.Polk walked into the room.

Ax watched Mr.Polk become nervous and sweaty when he was being cross examined by the mathematician, and a few pints struck home. He too was starting to get doubts about the trip, but he calmed himself down.

It'll be okay. he told himself. Everything will go according to plan. And even if it doesn't, you'll get through it. You've lived through the worst conditions imaginable. You've even survived NINE WEEKS stranded in the Himalayas with minimal food and no water, and survived! How could this be worse? Little did he know that things were going to get far worse than anything he had ever experienced before.





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Steggy says...



Dr. Jorge Harrison - Second Day (9 A.M)

Sleeping on the ship caused the dinosaur expert to toss and turn, moving along with the waves in the night. He would stare at the red numbers next to his bedside table, counting down the minutes until sunrise. Like a child before a field trip, excitement running throughout his body. Dinosaurs, long thought to have been extinct, were coming back for the third time. Pure dreams, some would've said. Fictional fantasy. That was in the past, now. An enjoyment pain was altered in Jorge's mind, his tiredness being the cause of this. He would only stare at the ceiling, counting the tiles and came to hundred before growing bored. He then turned on his side, staring out at the vast sea and the cloudy night sky. Slowly, but surely, Jorge fell into a dreamless slumber.

≔ ≕≔ ≕≔ ≕


The jolting sound of the alarm in the morning made Harrison fall onto the wood floor, landing awkwardly onto his back. A stinging pain ran down his backbone connecting to his brain, alerting of the late fall. He groaned, one of his legs moved in a weird angle while his other was covered with blankets. The alarm was still going on, beeping every now and there until Jorge finally hit it (hard) with his fist. He then moved his leg onto the floor, sitting cross legged when he heard a knock on his door.

"You alright in there, Jorge?" He rolled his eyes, putting a hand on the bed and getting up. Jorge walked towards the door, looking through the peephole to see Mr. Polk. Of all times in the morning, you had to come now. Opening the door quickly, he faced the old man and frowned.

"I'm fine."

Mr. Polk nodded though his eyes seemed to show something lesser. "Wonderful to hear. Luckily enough, you woke up just in time for breakfast. I was hoping that everyone that is aboard could go down and meet the other guest." He smiled. "We have some different people that I'm sure you'll love." Mr. Polk waved Jorge to get ready, explaining that he shouldn't wear his stained brown vest but instead something nice. Finally closing the door, Jorge rested his forehead against the wood. It feels like this day is going to drag on forever. Maybe I'll grab some coffee.

Within minutes, Jorge was dressed and walking down to the dining room. Mazes of hallways welcomed him, only causing him to huff at the paintings and the wonderful view of the sea. It was felt as if they were stranded on the sea, not getting any closer to their desired location. At first, when he first heard about the trip to see real life dinosaurs, his reaction was calm yet excited. Not knowing that it would take forever to come to the island, that soon changed to annoyance. Coffee might help. He turned a corner to see the young reporter from the other day, locking her room. She then turned around, saw Jorge, and smiled.

"Hey there."

Jorge frowned soften. "Hello."

"Are you headed to the breakfast meeting?"

He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sadly." The girl softly laughed, leaning against a nearby wall.

"Do you want to walk down together?"

Jorge shurgged. "Sure." Soon Jorge and the girl walked down the hall, an awkward silence between them both. Every once in a while Jorge would look out at the sea, his frown hardening over the course of two minutes.

"Frowning isn't good for your face, you know."

"Huh?" Jorge raised an eyebrow, looking towards the girl. She was still looking forward, hands behind her back.

"It creates frown marks. When you get older, those become wrinkles. Sometimes people mistaken it for laugh lines or something of the sort." Jorge shurgged, resuming his staring outside. Shortly the duo made it to the dining hall. There were adults, a kid sitting in a chair facing a huge window looking out into the morning sky, but Mr. Polk wasn't anywhere to be seen. He called us down here and yet he has yet to arrive. Unbelievable The girl and Jorge separated, she going to a tanned girl with black hair. Talkative one. Jorge thought, roaming around until he found the coffee maker. He leaned against the counter, staring at the plastered ceiling and frowned.

"Excuse me, sir, but are you the infamous Dr. Jorge Harrsion?" He looked towards girl with short brown hair. She was wearing a white lab coat over a black t-shirt and jeans.

"That would be I," he muttered. She smiled brightly.

"Wonderful! I'm Alex Harbor. It's a pleasure to meet you." She then whispered something under her breath before glancing up towards the dinosaur expert. Jorge knotted his eyebrows.

"Nice to meet you too," he said. The coffee maker next to him stopped, sputtering out the last of it. He spun around, grabbing the pixie cup. Steam was rising over the brim of the cup as Jorge sipped it quietly. Alex hadn't moved from her spot, her body twitching for reasons unknown. He stared at the woman, resting against the counter.

"Was there something you needed?"

Alex looked up quickly before shaking her head. "Nope. Just nice to meet you!" And walked off, muttering once again. Weird lady. Just then, Mr. Polk came into the room rubbing his hands together.

"Welcome, welcome everyone! Sorry about not coming earlier. Had some important planning to do!" He smiled, looking around. "It is so nice to see all of these new faces, checking out Jurassic Paradise. As you may know, dinosaurs are upon the island. We'll be arriving there at sundown. We won't be able to see the leaf eaters until later tomorrow afternoon, but slowly and surely we'll be able to see them!" He paused, scratching his chin.

"Since I'm sure that most of you don't know each other, why don't we go around a introduce each other?" Mr. Polk pointed a finger in Jorge's direction. "You go first, Harrison."

Jorge sighed, setting the coffee cup on the counter. He raised a small wave and then crossed his arms across his chest.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Jorge Harrison. Some of you may know my work with discovering new dinosaurs most people would've thought never existed. Some would call me infamous. I call it doing my job. Ever since I was little, I've loved the idea of dinosaurs and wondered how they were. So, through highschool and college, I studied these long lost lizards and look where I am at now." He paused, uncrossing his arms. "Though, it was more of my father's doing that made me what I am today." Few people in the room clapped while others just shrugged, waiting for somebody else to go.
It took a full three hours to introduce everyone in the small group. Some were telling stories of their jobs while others would just ramble on and on until Mr. Polk told them to stop.

"I think since that is over we should go over the general rules of Jurassic Paradise when we get there, since from the looks of some of you, may forget half of them," Mr. Polk said. He then rubbed his hands together and smiled brightly. "Since it is going to be another long trip there, I suggest everyone stay in their cabins for the night. Tomorrow morning we'll be docking and at the location. Ooh, I am excited!"
The group separated, leaving Jorge to walk on his own. The girl he was with before left with her friend, moving her hands about when speaking. Sighing, he put his hands in his pockets and started walking.

≔ ≕≔ ≕≔ ≕


He had trouble falling asleep again. It was only noon, the sun moving across the floor to the rhythm of the boat. Jorge would stare at it, his thoughts empty. He didn't know what he was thinking during that time. All of it seemed like a giant cloud weighing on him for some reason he didn't understand. Jorge sighed before moving to face his room door. The sunlight was only spotted here, golden rays created darker shadows. I could go wandering around the ship to find something.
He then sat up in his bed, moving one hand through his hair and got up. Jorge opened the door to a silent hallway. Everyone is either awake or sleeping. Walking quietly, he studied the new found design on the carpet. It blended in with each time he looked down, losing track of direction. He then heard voices whispering around the corner. Jorge stopped walking. He wasn't the one to eavesdrop on a conversation, only to supply the talking that would happen to be eavesdropped upon. He shook his head and continued on, turning back around. The voices were slowly getting into an argument, leading to sharp whispers and thumps. He didn't want to go back; it wouldn't be worth it either way.

≔ ≕≔ ≕≔ ≕


Catching up on sleep was important in a man's life. At least that is what his father told him before he left. Jorge, however, wasn't feeling the sleep importance thing. It wasn't driving his body into a slumber but only causing him to toss and turn in the evening. A short lived dream was only peeking here and there. It was temporary since Jorge kept opening his eyes and then reclosing them. He knew that in the morning, he was going to regret not sleeping and reduce to huddling over the coffee machine in the lobby. Jorge only groaned, wishing to force his brain to turn off. It only took a few minutes for it to come true, as yet again, Jorge fell into a dreamless slumber.

≔ ≕≔ ≕≔ ≕


Knock

Jorge stiffened.

Knock

Groaning, he shifted his view towards the door.

Kno-

"Come in!" He yelled. The door opened shortly with Mr. Polk smiling brightly.

"Good morning, Harrison."

Jorge grunted in reply, shifting his weight to leaning on his elbow. "What do you want?"

"We're almost to Jurassic Paradise. Ten minute tops."

Jorge blinked his eyes, thinking he was dreaming. Sudden anxiety roamed into his brain, causing him to rethink this whole thing.

"No need to fret, though, the captain of the ship will announce it over the intercom. I just came in here to tell you to get ready." Mr. Polk smiled brightly. "I'm quite excited for this, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Jorge said before yawning. He moved his feet to the floor, groaning and rubbing his eyes. Mr. Polk chuckled.

"I'll leave you be." With that, Mr. Polk opened the door and left. Jorge wasn't the type of person to be awake during times like this. In fact, he hated waking up so early. However, today was an exception. His brain had reminded him countless times that he would be seeing dinosaurs up front and center. Yet he had a thought that all of this was a hoax and could be just giant plastic dinosaurs, moving their mouths every few minutes. A silly thought that only lasted a few minutes, tops.
Jorge lept out of the bed and wandered to his closet. When he opened it, the same clothes welcomed him. He only frowned, grabbing a grey shirt, light brown vest and shorts, closing the door and going to the other end of his bedroom. An endless process that got old even when he was just a little kid. His father was the first one to enforce this rule, waking Jorge up early and then leaving to go do an important job. The smell of coffee stained in his nasal regions. Maybe because of him, I'm a coffee freak.

A few minutes later, the intercom buzzed and a voice came over.

"We'll be arriving at Isla Nublar is five minutes." It then went onto a spee about holding close to all important ideas and no flash photography. All of it old news. Jorge only sighed, zipping up a small backpack. Inside was a knife, the faded seasonal pass to the island, some clothes, and a dinosaurs book ranging for A-Z. He shifted on his backpack when he heard a knock at the door. When he looked up, there was a man with dark hair standing in the doorway.

"You ready?"

"Uh.. Do I know you?"

The boy frowned. "I'm Anaxander Fury from eariler. We discussed which dinosaur was better?"

Jorge made an o with his mouth. "Ah. Now I remember." He nodded, sidestepping Ax and walking down the hallway. The duo walked in silence the entire way, since Jorge didn't want to erupt with tiredness.

≔ ≕≔ ≕≔ ≕


Even though there were eleven people in one room, it felt crowded. His stomach was doing flips while standing there. I could see if they have a coffee machine somewhere around here. Jorge looked around the room, hoping to get a glimpse of something shiny in his vision but only got the heads of everyone going on the trip. It was then that he decided the only possible way to receive coffee, was in the dining hall. Groaning, his mood was downfall into anger as Mr. Polk walked out in front of everyone.

"In just minutes this door right behind me will open, thus beginning our adventuring into the new exploration. The ship will stay here while we are on the island meaning you can keep anything important you brought with you, on here. However, if you want to bring some water, a camera, or anything else, it maybe best to just carry that in a backpack or small suitcase." He paused, looking around the room. "I'm so pleased that I have a different variety of people coming to test out the waters." Just then the door behind the old man opened, a wave of sunlight moving into the lobby. Some raised hands to their eyes, blocking out the sunlight while others were jumping up and down. Jorge was neither of these; inside his excitement was bubbling like a little kid. On the outside, he was frowning with arms crossed.

"I want everyone to find a partner and stick with that partner during this trip. I don't want to find somebody along the side of the road, if you know what I mean." Soon, Jorge was paired up with the man from eariler who was looking through a small brochure of the park. He only shrugged, focusing his looks outwards. I wonder what secrets are hiding out there. What dinosaurs we'll find.
Soon everyone was on a wood dock, waves and the smell of the sea welcoming everyone. Ahead was the island with green trees and white sandy beaches. Jorge glanced down at his watch. 1:08. He sighed, while the group ahead was walking forward. Ax was still reaching the brochure, walking the same speed at Jorge.

"During the first course of the trail, we'll be walking towards the destination, which would be our hotel on foot. Along the way we may or may not come into contact with some leaf eating dinosaurs," Mr. Polk said smiling. Some people groaned while Jorge sighed. What kind of leaf eating dinosaurs? Soon, they were on their way again with excited smiles and gripping hands. Mr. Polk, along the way, was explaining different plants and would even stop to let a kid touch it. Might be his grandkid Jorge concluded as he moved his view towards an area that wasn't closed off. Small insects were flying around rather lazily, enjoying the new profound warmth. Jorge sighed. This isn't going to be a normal trip.

≔ ≕≔ ≕≔ ≕


"Ahead of us now is the Achelousaurus. Dr. Jorge Harrison, could you spread some sunlight on this amazing creature?" Mr. Polk asked. Jorge nodded, uncrossing his arms.

"This herbivore is a quadruped which means that it has four feet and can walk on all fours, instead of two. It is known that it was around during the late Cretaceous Period, but its existence is judged between 79 and 60 million years ago. Much like the infamous Triceratops, it is in the ceratopsid group. The name itself comes from a Greek orgin since Achelous is the name of the patron deity of the Greek river Achelous. He battled with Hercules over the nymph Deianeira, and during this battle, turned into a bull. When doing so, Hercules ripped off one of his horns and forced him to lose," Jorge explained. The people around him were shocked. He didn't like the attention that the people were going to give him so he only shrugged it off, crossing his arms together. Mr. Polk smiled brightly.

"Thank you for that explaintion, Harrison. Now if you want to take pictures, please do not use flash photography. Once we are done taking pictures, we'll move on." As soon as everyone that wanted to take a picture, got the forever memory on their phones or cameras, they continued on.

"I didn't know that a dinosaur like that could be named after a Greek person," Ax suddenly said. Jorge sighed, nodding.

"Most of the dinosaurs that everyone knows is named after something or have a Greek orgin somewhere in their name. Though, it depends on the dinosaurs itself." Ax nodded, staring forward. From Jorge's perhipal vision, he could've sworn he saw something move fast, as if it didn't want to be seen. He only shrugged it off, thinking it was the heat creating an illusion for him to believe. To the right of the group, noted by Jorge himself, was a herd of Kentrosaurus. As if on cue, Mr. Polk stopped and turned around to face Jorge.

"A wonderful dinosaur we have here. It looks to be related to the infamous Stegosaurus, right, Jorge?"

Jorge nodded. "The Kentrosaurus and the Stegosaurus were in the same time period and can be seen as closly related. As you know, Stegosaurus had spikes that were used to regulate temperature through the long, hot days in the late Jurassic period. They also used the armor for protective reasons, defending themselves from predators like the T-rex or Abrictosaurus. Though the Kentrosaurus weighed a bit less than the Stegosaurus, a whole 2 tons." Once again, people clapped and the group continued on.

"Another wonderful explanationt," Ax stated. Jorge smiled quickly before resuming to his natural face.

"Are you a fan of me or something?"

Ax chuckled. "Maybe."

The group continued on, stopping every once and while to look at the plants with Jorge explaining some. Ax would pitch in with what to eat and what not to eat. It was then that Jorge and Ax were like a expert duo, explaining which foods were to be eaten by different dinosaurs. The sun was beating down on the eleven guest when they saw giant necks rising over the tree tops. A child could be heard gasping in front of the group as Jorge saw it shaking Mr. Polk hands. He only smiled down, patting the child's head.

"I'm sure you've guys heard of the Brachiosaurus. If you look ahead, you can see the small heads and long necks over the tree tops. Would you like to add anything, Jorge?" Mr. Polk asked, turning halfway to the dinosaur expert.

"Of course," Jorge smiled. "Though the Brachiosaurus is known as the biggest dinosaur, there are some dinosaurs that weighed more. Their nostrils were higher than their eyes and has sparked a lot of talk in my perfession since some say that it spent most of its time in the water but it has yet to be proved. Personally, I believe that it spent most of its time on the land, reaching high to get the leaves up high."

"It's my favorite dinosaur," the kid holding onto Mr. Polk hand, said. Jorge chuckled.

"It was my favorite dinosaur as a kid, too. I've been glued to finding more and more about this dinosaur. It's a walking mystery, really." The child smiled brightly as Mr. Polk nodded.

"Wonderful," Mr. Polk said. He turned back around and pointed ahead. "We'll be reaching a checkpoint where some cars are located. I think it'll be better if we drive than walk to the checkpoint." The group continued to walk on.

As we continue walking, I know that this park will continue to surprise me. I wonder what mysteries it holds for us later.
You are like a blacksmith's hammer, you always forge people's happiness until the coal heating up the forge turns to ash. Then you just refuel it and start over. -Persistence (2015)

You have so much potential and love bursting in you. -Omnom





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Lefty says...



Christopher Chase Polk - Second Day, 1:30pm

The trees of Isla Nublar were greener than Christopher had ever seen. And the sight of the Brachiosauruses who's heads looked down at him from fifty-feet in the air felt like a dream. Was he still on earth, or had he sailed into a parallel universe? Because one thing was for sure: Being there was unreal.

His grey teeshirt started to soak through with sweat by the time they reached the checkpoint. A large, fenced off square of pavement hidden amongst the trees where three jeeps sat, waiting to take them to the hotel.

When Christopher heard they would be riding in jeeps, he imagined the little blue fabric-covered kind his friends uncle drove. Not armored, military-grade, off-roading jeeps that looked worthy of holding up against a fight with a tank. He wasn't sure if he should take this as another perk of their journey to be excited about, or if it should make him uneasy. They went with armored vehicles for a reason, and he knew a lot of people were growing concerned about their safety during their stay. He also knew that he should probably be concerned, too. But he was too excited to be scared. This as all just too cool.

And besides. They were staying at a secure hotel with armored car escorts to take them to and from the ship, and they were only supposed to be there for a couple days. What's the worst that could happen?

Christopher picked a jeep, it's shiny black paint glistening in the hot island sun, and climbed up into the back seat. The leather seats were hot to the touch as he settled in and peered out the tinted windows.

Polk hopped into the drivers seat while Carson took shotgun. Seems fitting, he thought.

"This is a cool jeep," Christoper said, taking in the vehicles interior.

"A cool jeep?" Carson turned to look back at Christopher. "You have no idea, Little Man. This is a Bulletproof 2025 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon. 285-horsepower, V6 engine. Five-speed automatic transmission." He smiled. "This is thee cool jeep, my friend."

Christopher smiled, deciding to take it as a perk of their journey. If a Navy Seal was excited about it, that was enough of a reason for Christopher to be, too.

One by one, the jeeps roared to life, and at the last second, Annabelle Quail jumped into the other back seat. She smiled at him. "Hey, Kiddo. Mind if I ride with you guys?"

Christopher's cheeks flushed. His body tensed. "Uhh... sure," he stammered. He didn't expect so many girls to be coming on their trip... especially one as pretty as Annabelle Quail.

She slid her seatbelt into the buckle with the click, then looked back up at him. "Hey, cool hat."

Christopher let out a nervous chuckle. "Thanks." Unsure of what to do, he took the cap off and ran his fingers through his hair, which spiked up in every direction, slick with sweat. He looked at the faded Jurassic Park logo for a moment before pulling back on. He smirked to himself as he looked back out the window. She likes my hat.

---

The jeep slowed to a halt when a dinosaur blocked their path. "Could that thing go any slower?" Annabelle joked.

Chris leaned to look through the front windshield. "Oh, yeah. That's an Ankylosaurus. They're slowpokes."

"Well, at least it's a nice dinosaur."

"It is unless you provoke it," he said with a chuckle. "See that club on the end of it's tail? It weighs a hundred pounds and can break a T-Rex's leg in one swing."

Annabelle peered out the window. "Wow..."

"Could you imagine what that would do to one of the jeeps? It would flip us for sure."

She looked back at him. "You're pretty smart aren't you, kid?"

"I... I guess you could say that," Chris said, his voice squeaking. He cleared his throat, then shrugged. "I've done a lot of research."

---

The deeper the jeeps descended into the lush forest, the quieter everyone seemed to get. People were growing uneasy, Christopher could tell. Everyone except for his grandfather, of course, whose enthusiasm never seemed to waiver. Even he was getting uncomfortable. He couldn't figure out why, but there was an eeriness to this part of the forest, and he found himself feeling relieved when the gates around the hotel came into view.

"At last!" Polk exclaimed. "We have arrived at our destination!"

The jeeps pulled around to the front doors, made of glass and bordered with gold-plating. Christopher couldn't imagine that anything would be nicer than his Grandfathers cruise ship, but as he walked inside to see the marble floors and the high ceilings with a giant crystal chandelier hanging above their heads, he began to wonder if he had been proven wrong.

They each were given their own rooms up on the eighth floor. The king-sized beds were made with Egyptian cotton sheets and the carpet was a regal design of burgundy and gold swirls. Christopher was surprised at how well the hotel had been kept up. No one had been there for a while, after all.

He decided that the fences around the hotel must have been good enough that it had kept the dinosaurs out for all the time since Jurassic World was shut down... that it confirmed they were safe there, no matter what happened. At that thought, Christopher felt himself relax a little. I'm just letting the others get to me, he thought. There's nothing to worry about.

Christopher headed into the oversized bathroom to grab a quick shower and wash off the sweat that had dried on his skin. He closed the door behind him.

Little did he know, that on the outside of the door were six-inch long claw marks which had been dragged through the wood, splintering it and drawing crevices a quarter-inch deep.

Something had not only been on their floor, but in his room. And the most important question wasn't what had been there, but how long ago?
Hear me out, there's so much more to life than what you're feeling now. Someday you'll look back on all these days, and all this pain is gonna be invisible. - Hunter Hayes





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Wolfi says...



Annabelle Quail - First day on the island, 5:45 pm

Annabelle stood on the balcony and looked out over the tousled hills and valleys of Isla Nublar. The sun, slicing through gaps in the forests and scattering through fern fronds, was approaching its descent, and the apricot-colored glow warmed her skin. A number of brachiasaurs browsed peacefully in the trees nearby. She could hear the chirping of native insects and the reassuring hum of the thirty foot fence that circled the fence.

Suddenly, she heard an ear-piercing screech erupt somewhere at the edge of the forest. She gasped in alarm, and watched as one by one each of the brachiasarus lifted their heads and tilted their gaze towards the sound. One of them let out a low moaning sound, and soon enough the rest of them joined in harmony. Lumbering on as quickly as they could, the giraffe-like brachiasaurs drifted deeper into the forest, into the northern parts of the island.

Then an unmistakably carnivorous roar pounded upon her eardrums. She couldn’t see it, but damn. It was close.

Unlike before, Annabelle noticed that the air felt sticky, drying the sweat that prickled her skin and rattling through her lungs like dried palm leaves. The blood red sun didn’t feel so nice anymore either.

When the walkie-talkie on her belt beeped, she ripped it out to listen.

“Walter here,” Polk was saying, in his usually cheery voice. “I hope everyone has settled in nicely. In half an hour we’ll be having a barbecue in the outside suite. The pool and Jacuzzi will be heated if you’d like to go swimming, and cocktails are on me. See you soon!”

Annabelle was so disgusted that she almost chucked the walkie talkie off the balcony. Before she could, she heard Nigel’s voice.

“That’s great, Mr. Polk. Free cocktails are always great. But perhaps you didn’t hear the, uh... dinosaur activity just now, right outside the fence?”

Polk laughed. “I assure you, Nigel, that nothing is getting through that 15,000 volt fence. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. I recommend closing your windows at night so the ‘dinosaur activity’ doesn’t keep you awake.”

Angrily, Annabelle jabbed at the buttons on her walkie talkie and connected to a private channel between her and Nigel. “Nigel!” she hissed, sweeping the balcony doors closed behind her. “It’s Annabelle, the reporter. We’re on a separate frequency.”

Nigel sounded grim. “Annabelle, hi. You heard the roar too?”

“Loud and clear. And I also heard Polk deny its credibility.”

The speaker crackled as Nigel sighed. “What is he thinking? We were just outside that fence a few hours ago, cruising along in what he calls his ‘Jurassic Paradise,’ a carnivore-free environment, like there’s nothing to worry about. Now, I’m not what you’d call a dinosaur expert, but I don’t have a good feeling about the sounds I heard.”

“Agreed. That definitely wasn’t an herbivore roar. But he told us that all of the carnivores were in the southern section of the island.”

“I think we have some things to talk about at this barbecue. I’d like to first speak with Jorge to confirm one of my ‘Paradise’ theories, and then with the two guards to figure out how well we’re really protected. I’m sure you also have some people you’d like to interview for your article. Better talk to them before we get eaten.”

Annabelle could agree with that. “See you down there, Nigel.”

“Oh, before you go - are you wearing your bathing suit?”

“No, I don’t think so. Not in the mood.”

“In that case, me neither.”

Annabelle clipped the walkie talkie back onto her belt and sighed. Would she try to talk to Polk tonight, or maybe his grandson? Christopher might know some things that Polk wouldn’t be willing to reveal about himself. She didn’t have much time left in order to gather all the evidence that she needed.

After fixing her makeup and making sure her notepad was charged, Annabelle left her room and took the elevator downstairs, meeting Naomi along the way, who smiled when she saw her.

“Let’s hope Mr. Polk’s barbecue doesn’t attract any dinosaurs,” Naomi said. “Hearing them so close to the hotel is exciting, but I’d rather look at them from a distance.”

“Me too. What do you think the dinosaur that roared was?”

“Something, I fear, that doesn’t belong in Mr. Polk’s Jurassic Paradise. I’m sure Jorge will know.”
John 14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled
and do not be afraid.





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Steggy says...



Walter Hammond Polk - Night 1

Death is not his forte. He doesn't know how to handle it or how to cope with it.

A normal evening was set out for everyone when they came back from hiking. Laughter was shared. Smiles were given. Jorge would explain more in-depth about dinosaurs. All of it was happy, and it made him happy too. The BBQ was going to plan, as well. At dusk, he had ordered the shipmates, via walkie talkie, to bring out the seasoned meat, crab legs, and chilled soft drinks for all the guests. It was an evening that he hoped wouldn't go wrong. The adventurers were relaxing in the pool, eating dinner, and having a good time.

Mr. Polk was the only one sitting when everyone left. The sounds of the bubbling Jacuzzi and crackling firepit occupied his thoughts. There was a still a linger of charred meat in the air, mixing together with salt air. A wine glass hung loosely on Mr. Polk's finger, and as he yawned with tears forming in his eyes, mingling with the smoke from the fire.

I should be off. Glupping down the rest of his wine, he placed the glass in a cooler and walked up the sandy pathway. The moonlight and tiki torches were his only light source, creating a feeling of calmness. Everything around him made his brain slowly shut off, some parts of his brain shutting off into complete darkness. The sand was getting caught between his toes. He yawned once more until he heard a faint noise coming to the left of him. It wasn't loud nor was it soft. He blinked his eyes sheepishly. He already was in a state of tiredness and anything could've swayed him to do something dangerous. In his state, walking towards the sound was a perfect equation to not going to sleep.

"Hello?" Walter called out. The noise seemed to slowly decrease into the night, only to rise back up again, like a broken CD player stuck on repeat. A weary feeling crept into his lungs, stilling his beating heart. When he got behind some branches and leaves, the forest was bathed in an eerie silence. Birds, wind, nothing seemed to be alive, and all he could hear was the soft hum of the fence. Mr. Polk frowned deeply, holding onto a mossy tropical root with two hands. A gut instinct inside told him to run and never look back, while his heart, the weigher of stones, calmly suggested seeking out the matter. He sighed before stepping around the root and into a grassed area. It was the perfect place to look up at the stars with a loved one, your hands enclosed in one another and smile at their excited face.

When Mr. Polk stepped into the area, a shrill scream broke the silence. It rang and rang, echoing away from its original place. Wide-eyed, he moved his head about, moving backwards until ramming his back into a moss-kissed trunk. He grunted, rubbing his spine. The scream continue to ring as he thought best to run away; whatever it was, might come after Mr. Polk. He moved through the forest, swatting away at huge leaves that fall back with a loud umph.
When he got to the sand, he didn't stop running. His gut feeling, beforehand telling him not to go, was now drinking wine and leaning back while his heart, the weigher of stones, was enjoying the running. Thoughts raced throughout his mind; is somebody hurt? did somebody die? As it was stated before, Mr. Polk is a fool for not understanding death. He can't hold onto the concept nor does he even want anything to do with it. In other words, he fears death.

He kept looking back every once in a while, nervous about the thing following him to the hotel. As he was running, he wasn't exactly paying attention to what was in front of him. As the result of this, Mr. Polk thought he had run into wall on his way to hotel and immediately stepped back, falling onto his bottom.

"Hey, are you alright?" Mr. Polk looked up quickly. A man with brown hair and kind green eyes, held out a hand. He looked rather muscular and stood taller than Mr. Polk. He kindly took the hand and helped himself up.

"Yeah. Just thought I come back up and go to bed," Mr. Polk said quickly, dusting the sand off his shorts.

The man tilted his head to the side, like a confused dog. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem scared of something."

Mr. Polk chuckled before crossing his arms.

"During my seventy two years, I've never been afraid of anything. Though, maybe in the near future, I'll find my fear and try to take it head on. I don't know when it'll be, but for sure, I'll be ready."

"Nice pep talk coming from an old man," the young man joked. Mr. Polk frowned, uncrossing his arms.

"Aren't you Walter Polk from earlier?"

"Way to come out abruptly. But yes."

The young man nodded. "I don't think you remember me but, I'm Carson Anderson." Carson lifted his hand for Mr. Polk to shake, but he reclined.

"Nice to meet you. I think I'm going to go to bed. Hopefully see you tomorrow for the next trip," Mr. Polk said. He stumbled up the sandy path towards the hotel, leaving Carson alone. Was he drunk?

= = = = = =


He couldn't get to sleep. The screams. The noises. It only made nightmares for Mr. Polk. All of it caused his body to toss and turn in the sheets, staring at the ceiling. Counting the tiles could not help him stop thinking about the scream in the woods. It lingered in his mind and overtime, actually made him anxious. He stared at the red digital numbers on the alarm clock next to his bed when he soon resided to just not sleeping. He can't do nothing and let some random person die (even though it was a fifty fifty chance that they were dead) but it was thought that he didn't try to save them that scared him the most.
So, without further thought, Mr. Polk lept out of bed, getting dressed, and sped walk to Carson's room.

= = = = =


"Carson, are you awake in there?" Mr. Polk asked, after knocking three times. There was a shifting for behind the door, followed by a low mumble. It was only a few minutes later that he had opened the door, groggy and determined.

"It's two in the morning, Walter. What do you want?"

"I can't stop thinking that someone is out there dying. I need your help to see if there was somebody out there. Could you help me, please?"

Carson yawned, moving a hand to cover his mouth. He then shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

"I guess but can't this wait until morning?"

Mr. Polk chuckled, crossing his arms.

"We have to find the body before the scavengers do. Also, I think dinosaurs are out at this time of night so I'll need a person who knows their guns." He paused, looking up. "I know you're tired but believe me. It'll be worth it."

Carson sighed before turning his back. "Give me a few minutes."

Soon, the duo was outside, Carson moving his rifle and Mr. Polk behind him jumping at every noise. The forest seemed darker at night, he had said trying to lightened the mood.

"It's nighttime. What do you expect?" Carson responded. "Are you sure this is the way?"

"Of course it is! I heard the noise somewhere over there." Mr. Polk pointed west, towards an opening in a same patch of woods.

"Isn't there some kind of fence there?"

Walter shrugged. "When I was there, I did see a fence. Though, the fence itself seemed torn and battered. Also, I think, the fence was turned off."

Carson nodded. "There was a power outage some hours ago."

= = = = =


When they found the body, Mr. Polk stiffened. He hadn't expected Carson to have a keen eye when looking over the fields of green.

"I'll be using these," Carson had stated before pulling out some goggles. Mr. Polk stood perplexed, leaning against a tree trunk. They were stationed on the outer part of where the broken fence closed off the field of green and kept outsiders from going in.

"What are those?" Mr. Polk had asked. Carson put the goggles around her neck before smiling at Mr. Polk.

"Night vision goggles because you can never see what the darkness holds without using a flashlight and these will help us find the outline of the possible body. All I need is a place to start looking at."

"Hopefully, the scavengers didn't beat us to it." Mysteries are suppose to stay mysterious. That's always the fun part of them.


A tattered, bloodied pink shirt with faded white shorts. A broken camera lens peeking into the real world. Brown eyes half-lidded with tangled brown hair. Mr. Polk fell to the ground, grasping at what he was seeing in front of him. The body was laying on its left side while the right side was completely torn off. It seemed to be hacked into with an ax with blood pouring out continuously.

Carson stood on watch with his back turned and pretended not to hear Mr. Polk crying.
A brown purse lay nearby, the gold clasp ripped out and souvenirs slipping out. He clumsily grabbed it, his hands shaking as he dung through hoping to find an ID. When he did, Mr. Polk glupped.

Naomi Ramos was in red ink on a small card. It was tucked behind a picture of what was supposedly her family.

He never understood the concept of death or how to cope with it. An overpowering feeling that stays hanging in the air, and sometimes you wish you could bring the person back. Try to save them while you still can.

"Carson," Mr. Polk spoke softly. "Promise me that, for now, you won't tell anyone about this."

He hesitated, then relented. "I promise, sir."

They buried her by a moss-kissed tree, the stars glimmering above. Mr. Polk put the picture of the family above it and silently gave his regards. They soon walked back, feelings jumbled and memories blurred.

When they got back to the hotel, they each bid a silent goodbye. A remorseful mood was left in the air as both parties didn't sleep that night.
You are like a blacksmith's hammer, you always forge people's happiness until the coal heating up the forge turns to ash. Then you just refuel it and start over. -Persistence (2015)

You have so much potential and love bursting in you. -Omnom





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TheSilverFox says...



Professor Nigel Auguste – Saturday, 5:50 PM

He was suspicious. As a man of his profession, suspicion was natural, and, frankly obligatory. You needed to be skeptical and questioning of theories before you could comprehend and, if they made enough sense, adopt them. But it wasn’t the kind that made you debate the continuation of your own life. And that was the problem.

The day itself had proceeded rather smoothly. It took some time for the ship to dock, but that hadn’t bothered him in the slightest. The longer that he not touch that god-forsaken earth that cursed the island with its reputation for fatal mistakes and horrific demises, the better. Yes, while his curiosity was a powerful force, and constantly egged him on to discover the secrets of the island, discover the majestic dinosaurs first hand, and gather the evidence he needed to assure the destruction of this landscape, his fear was amplified the closer they came and the more he remembered that island’s reputation. But it had been inevitable – he asked for this, and he was going to get it. He had soon found he had to choose a partner, take what he wanted with him, and travel towards the hotel that would be their center of operations over the next few days. Too, it was supposed to be their safe space, but he had had severe doubts about this. In what fashion could he be assured that carnivores would not naturally gravitate towards their prey?

Nigel himself had paired with the hunter, Mr. Mercer. It was his safest bet, given that the man was evidently armed, and so he figured this man would be his best bet if he wanted to assure his own security. Not to mention that they had seemed to share a similar mindset; both had been heavily untrustworthy of Mr. Polk and the operation that he had established, and had been rather frank about it. Nigel had liked the hunter. He had seemed intelligent, constantly wary of his surroundings, and firm about his stances. Stern, and a bit hard to talk to at first, given that he hadn’t seemed to have much of a caring for conversation in a group of people who had been largely oblivious to their own impending doom, they soon had been able to strike a lengthy discussion when they figured out that they were fairly alike.

In the meantime, the dinosaurs they had faced were awesome. Scary, of course, when they popped out from the forest in their massive, bulky forms to face them. It had intimidated him to no end, as, despite Mr. Polk’s assertions to the contrary, he had expected a carnivore to run up and attack the unsuspecting gathering walking along the open path. It would have been a quick end to this entire expedition, but he had always hoped that he would die peacefully of old age surrounded by loved ones, rather than be torn apart in front of a group of strangers. He did not place his own life below that of the expedition’s, and hoped that it would expire before he did; that could end this whole debacle quickly with little, if any, loss of life. Thankfully, that had not happened, and he had been willing to admit later that it was fascinating to see and learn about a few of the dinosaur species on the island, particularly given that many of them were not like the dinosaurs he had typically heard about. Dr. Jorge Harrison had proved himself to be incredibly useful in his understanding of the species they met, and had been an effective tour de force with the adventurer Ax, explaining all the wildlife of the island in a clear and conclusive manner. If he hadn’t been afraid for his life, it would’ve seemed like a nice tour. He had hoped that it would be at least advantageous in the future when they were all running for their lives, at least, to know what was trying to crush or eat them.

Somehow, a jeep ride (also alongside Mercer), a tour through a massive and intricately designed hotel foyer and accompanying rooms, and a few free cocktails later, here he was. If time flies when you’re having fun, fear of the inevitable must have sped up the process in favor of reaching that point of despair. Which came in the form of the horrific roar a close proximity to the electric gates that honestly didn’t sound so friendly. To be honest, his anxiety was beginning to grow to serious levels, although it had been nearing that point for the past few hours. He didn’t dare show it, as he had nothing by which to confirm it yet. However, Polk’s willingness to casually brush aside such a loud and dangerous noise, which sounded like it was the workings of a ferocious carnivore, and his own subsequent radio conversation with the reporter, Annabelle, who validated his fears and made clear her own concerns, were beginning to make clear how little time it could be before he might need to run.

He was unnerved, dreadfully so. A dinosaur hadn’t shown itself in some time, but that didn’t stop him from anxious pacing the pool as he contemplated who to talk to first. The scenery was beautiful, and everyone else around him was here to enjoy it. Several of his fellow expedition members lounged in the Jacuzzi and swimming areas, while others feasted on the barbeque dishes and other foods the crew of the ship had delivered and presented with the grandest show that Mr. Polk could put on, as usual. But he just couldn’t muster the nerve to eat, as alluring and as delicious as the food looked. As someone who might spend hours in the night and on into the morning studying incredibly small variables in equations, he was used to not eating frequently. Yet he couldn’t help but run into the same exact conclusion over and over again – this was not an ordinary trip. Not in a long shot. He was overthinking it again, and he knew it, but he simply couldn’t trust everything Mr. Polk said. Or maybe anything, if the self-professed “adventurer” had gone out so far as to deny the threat of a potential carnivore on the opposite side of the now seemingly-small and flimsy fence. In general, the peaceful flames and torches around him swayed slightly to the wind, but didn’t lift up his stone-heavy heart. He felt sick, anyhow, and eating food probably wouldn’t help.

Finally resolving to do what he’d told the reporter he would do, he tramped over to the dinosaur expert, who was currently sitting casually by the edge of the pool, looking completely relaxed and even a little happy as he sipped a cocktail and talked with a few others who were swimming or lying on top of the water. “Can I speak to you privately for a moment?” asked Nigel as he stepped up to the man, who took a few moments to register he was being asked a question. The doctor seemed to be so enthralled by his own story and a discussion of the local dinosaurs that he acted like he’d entirely forgotten Nigel’s existence in this moment. Mr. Auguste was fairly sure that wasn’t far from the truth, if the past few hours had anything to say about the matter.

“Hold on just a second,” Harrison said in a cheery voice to his audience before standing up and walking towards a clear grassy area a few feet away, where nobody was likely to hear them if they were whispering. “Sure,” he said as he turned to face the professor, “what do you want to know?”

“What I’d like to know,” replied Nigel carefully, trying to choose the words that would least likely trouble the doctor. The last thing he wanted to do was leave the man nervous and less willing to answer his questions and theories about the island. If he wanted to understand as much as possible – and, if lucky, survive – he needed to be able to converse with other people in the opposite fashion of his typical bluntness and pessimistic attitude. “Is what exactly it was that Mr. Polk brushed off as harmless a short while ago. I don’t know many dinosaurs, so I probably wouldn’t be able to understand any names you do mention” – this quieted the doctor before he could go in what would surely be a long discussion on specific dinosaurs and their behaviors – “I just want to know if it was a carnivore or not.”

“Well,” replied the doctor, who had been waiting patiently until Nigel was finished. He now seemed fairly nervous, shuffling his feet and whistling for a few seconds as he tried to come up with a response. The now incredibly awkward-feeling Nigel was about to call off the conversation, thinking that he’d failed in his objective of not making the doctor nervous, and providing embarrassment on the part of both of them, but Jorge responded before he had a chance to say anything. “As it managed to scare away a herd of herbivores – brachiosaurus, among the largest of all of the herbivores – it’s most likely a carnivore. If it could scare such massive herbivores, it has to be a massive one. As to what it is specifically, well…there were a multitude of large carnivores, especially during the Jurassic World project, and there’s always a chance it -”

Nigel was about to ask whether or not it could be strong enough to tear into the fence, but decided he had already given this man enough concern. He chose rather to ask, “Never mind about that. I’d also like to ask about Mr. Polk’s claim that the carnivores are on the southern side of the island. If they’re all together, do you think they would be able to sustain themselves on each other, or would some of them naturally head over towards the herbivores on the northern side? Could Mr. Polk’s guards, with all of the equipment they have, be able to stop them?”

The doctor replied in what an answer he was far more confident in, but also more nervous about what it implied. “To answer your second question, I’m not sure. I don’t know enough about what they have and what it could do to a dinosaur. Hopefully they would have plenty of tranquilizer and other resources to restrain any dinosaur who attempts to leave, but they’d have to constantly resupply themselves, and most non-electric barricades probably couldn’t withstand the strength of the larger dinosaurs. And maybe some of the electric ones, too, although this one seems sturdy enough. As for the first question, assuming that there aren’t any guards or security measures, it comes down to basic animal behavior. I’m sure that they could form an ecosystem all their own, but it wouldn’t be able to last long without a key component of an environment – herbivores to eat the constant supply of plants, and, in turn, be eaten by the carnivores. So, unless they’d rather starve to death or be eaten, I would imagine some of the smaller carnivores would make their way towards the herbivores whose scents they might detect, and be followed by the…larger…carnivores.”

Auguste placed his hands on the doctor’s shoulders when the man paled slightly and shook. Looking him straight in the eyes with a commanding expression, Nigel blatantly lied, though he intermixed the truth into it to make it seem more legible. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to find an answer to one of my theories about the island itself. I’m sure Polk has taken all the precautions he can to make sure that we are safe and happy here. Besides, you seemed to be happy and in your element back there, and I don’t want to make you in any way nervous. I’m sure that none of them are powerful enough to rip through the fence around the hotel, nor any small enough to sneak their way into the hotel, and I doubt we’ll run into any trouble like that over the next few days. I need to go back to my room to check on some of my papers – I just realized an idea that might allow me to tie some of my ideas together. You should probably go back and act like the amazing dinosaur expert you are.” He smiled, and the doctor’s worry seemed to lessen. He quickly began to shake less, and the color returned to his face. Not to mention the doctor, though slightly awkwardly, smiled back.

“Thanks,” he replied as he trotted somewhat confidently back towards the pool, where his listeners were patiently awaiting his return. “I’m amazed that any small dinosaur would be able to squeeze itself through the electric gates without vaporizing itself into a pile of bones. Although there are some tiny ones, and they are just as fascinating as their much larger companies. It’s silly how everyone overlooks them; for instance, it…” The doctor’s voice gradually faded away as he switched to talking to himself, and then to his eager gathering by the poolside. Nigel sighed in relief, wiping the sweat off his brow. He couldn’t help but shake his head and smile at the doctor’s enthusiasm and willingness to distract himself in his own studies. It reminded him a lot of – who else? – himself.

His face hardened. It wasn’t like him to lie. He usually was a blunt source of reason in most of the conversations he was in. Somehow, however, that sense of trouble that nagged at the back of his mind, now confirmed, almost seemed to be reshaping his personality. Specifically, into a survivor’s mentality. Nigel was now concerned with his own life, not to mention the lives of everyone else in the expedition, all of whom would be put at substantial risk in a short amount of time. Save for Mr. Polk, of course – he should get what was coming to him, thanks to his foolishness and stupidity in the face of danger. It was all the other, largely innocent, people here that he didn’t want to see die, even if he wanted to see the mission do so. And a good step in accomplishing that goal would be to keep everyone calm, not worrying or frustrated or willing to make brash decisions or clueless mistakes. That would keep everyone sensible enough to avoid being trampled underfoot before any of them could leave the island fast enough.

Nigel stormed off, walking towards the general direction of the hotel as he broke free from the crowd. They were all likely too distracted to notice as he turned away from the entrance and traveled towards a component of the massive, persistently buzzing electrical fence that barricaded the hotel from the outside world. Or so anyone here thought. There was a rather large entrance there, which was a simple metal door big enough to squeeze a couple of people standing side-by-side, or a jeep and its riders, though. Heavily barricaded, of course, and undoubtedly with a few feet of steel. With dinosaurs, you always have to be careful. A couple of guards in heavily armored uniforms stood on either side of the path, holding powerful-looking guns. Like those you’d use to hunt big game, which is what Mercer had. The distinct shape of large tranquilizer weapons defined what was slung on their backs. Mr. Auguste couldn’t help but think about how puny such armaments would be against the tons of flesh, bones, and teeth that was a dinosaur. What could this possibly do to one? Particularly an aggressive one?

The guards stepped forward and crossed their guns, blocking his path. “What’s your business here?” called out one of them, the younger one, in a threatening voice. Evidently, they didn’t take too kindly to strangers walking up on their dangerous operations.

“Just come to see how you are,” said Nigel calmly, in his conversational tone he usually only used for those people he respected enough. Desperate times called for desperate measures. “Polk has said that you’ll be the ones protecting the hotel we’re staying in, so I thought I’d pay my respects and see how you are.”

“Well,” replied the other guard for a second, lowering his gun momentarily in contemplation and surprise. It was evident he hadn’t expected a gesture like this. However, his cold façade re-emerged, and he held the gun firmly in his hands as he shot back, “We’re fine. You have absolutely nothing to worry about, especially now that Mr. Polk is here.”

Somehow, the guard’s voice didn’t sound all that confident. Nigel exploited it. “Hmm? I would imagine with weapons like those, you could down a massive creature on your own. What does it matter that Mr. Polk himself has shown up, given that he himself hasn’t displayed much more of an addition of force?”

“That’s none of your concern!” said the older guard, but now his voice was a mixture of both fear and anger. His gun shook slightly, and he visibly paled. “He is the leader of our operation here, and a reliable and trustworthy man, and we follow him honorably. He wouldn’t let any of us die here, not in vain! He gives us…erm…confidence…and…uh…strength. So…yeah.” The younger soldier, obviously distressed, took a few steps back. His vision seemed unfocused, like he was thinking about something particularly memorable. And not in a good way.

“But you didn’t quite tell me that he wouldn’t let you die?” replied Nigel, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. They had obviously intended to reassure him and dispel any of his concerns by citing the arrival of the expedition’s founder, but they certainly fell apart when he called their bluff. From the looks on their faces, and how their demeanor was broken, he suspected that they were attempting to cover something a lot darker, and failing to do so. Not much of anything new, especially as he already suspected that there had been casualties in trying to take some control of the island, not to mention the persistent threat of returning carnivores, but it did shed some light on the previously mysterious specifics of the situation. And he was sure he didn’t like it. While he was sure the Polk did have enough of a conscious to value the life of those below him, and they were likely telling the truth to some extent with respect to their feelings toward him, it was evident they were definitely afraid, and the latter even seemed to validate it. Very afraid. Somebody had died previously; he was sure of this. He didn’t know or when, but it must’ve happened. Why else would they react like this, and never quite state that Polk wouldn’t let them die?

“That’s none of your concern!” said the younger soldier in a high pitched voice, waving his gun in what would be a menacing gesture if the gun wasn’t persistently rattling. “Now, we have a job to do, and you’re getting in our way. Go back to the hotel, and leave us in peace!”

Nigel sighed, nodded towards them, said, “If that’s the case, then I’ll be on my way. Best of luck, and, for your sake, I hope you don’t find anything…dangerous,” and walked in the general direction of where he’d come from. His confirmation came in the antagonized groan from one of the said guards after he’d taken a few steps.

And that was it. Auguste had talked to everyone he wanted to, and now felt a lot more confident. He’d a much greater grasp of the situation and the risks involved, and so he casually returned to the barbeque, blending into the crowd and talking with several people as though nothing had happened. Nigel allowed himself to relax, finally gaining the ability to eat some of the food without the thought of retching, and remained calm and peaceful as the sun dropped beneath the sky and the moon and stars came into view. It was the most he could do now, and it would be a believable cover-up for any instance of strange behavior he might have exhibited previously. Besides, if he was right, this might be the last possible opportunity he could have to have some actual fun before the terror that was coming. So why not make the most it? He spent his time laughing, eating, and relaxing by the warmth of the fire. Peace. For now.

But time is a fickle thing, and it sped by too quickly. Before long, the gathering was tired, full, and content among the stars. One by one, they gradually returned to the hotel to sleep in their beautifully made eight-story rooms. Mr. Polk remained firmly in place, chatting and keeping up his optimistic personality in spite of the gradually diminishing audience. Nigel didn’t care himself, although he otherwise would’ve been impressed at the man’s persistent animated state and his inability to quiet himself, a few good signs that he was living up to his present status as the motivator in a decent fashion. He was growing tired, incredibly so under the faint and peaceful lights and torches by his head, the stars in the sky above, and the distant roaring of what he assumed were the less violent herbivores, who were likely heading to sleep as well. Staying for as long as possible, he soon found that this own exhaustion had finally caught up to him, and his mind was coated in fog, obscuring all of this thoughts and emotions. One of the final people to leave, he soon found himself traveling into the hotel, using the elevator, entering his room, writing a few notes on his computer, and preparing to and going to sleep. It almost felt like a dream, as though he was observing himself doing all of these actions while not having any conscious influence in them. He was so relaxed, so free of tension, so otherwise distant that it was hard for him to focus. Would’ve been bizarre if he put enough thought to it. But it didn’t matter; soon enough, he was sleep.

Though not nearly as long as he might’ve hoped.


******

He woke up to screaming.

It was distant, but the shrill voice was absolutely unmistakable. Ringing, persistent, it was the alarm clock that Nigel needed to force his eyes, and his mind, wide open. The sound was far too distant for him to be available to identify who was making it, but it could only be human. Adrenaline coursed through his body, but it took all of the energy within him to not break out into a frenzy. He had to be calm. He had to relax himself and get a grip on his situation. There was no way he was possibly going to stay now; for all he knew, the dinosaurs had already begun to assault the building. But this was the one sign he was waiting for, the one resounding clue that he had best make a departure, and a hasty one at that.

Blinking furiously, Auguste willed himself to shove aside his bedsheets and get out. His body was frustrated by the prospect of moving away from the incredibly soft sheets, but a quick reminder of what threat might possibly within the vicinity quickly had it change its mind. Stamping across the regal-looking carpet, Auguste slowly and carefully pulled open a drawer and yanked out his typical attire. He didn’t want to invite any of the non-human guests by any loud noises, and he certainly didn’t intend to surprise or bring fear into those unsuspecting human ones. The man subsequently emptied the room of all of the possessions that he had, neatly stuffing them into the suitcase that contained his extra pairs of clothes. Once again, quiet and slow. He still needed to remain calm and patient, yet also alert and focused on his surroundings, tuning in to every single small noise emanating from the outside world.

The screaming had stopped. His environment was eerily quiet. Veins bulged and eyes threatened to pop out of his skull as he gritted his teeth ferociously. At the risk of exposing himself to serious harm and death, he had to assure that his flight-or-fight response didn’t activate. Unfortunately, at the same time, he was directly invoking it. Somebody out there was dead. They couldn’t possibly have survived such an attack without anyone else around. Auguste needed visuals on where that killer was, and where they might possibly strike next. So he had to listen, even in the midst of an infinitely and disturbing high amount of silence.

“Damn it, Malcolm,” he grumbled to himself as he gingerly placed the books on top of his assorted things and closed the suitcase, picking it up while he pulled on his shoes with his other hand. “I should’ve listened to you to begin with.”

He tested the lock to his door. It opened with his slightest touch. Stepping out into the dimly light hallway, Nigel spent a few seconds staring about him, ears focused on any possible unnatural sounds. None. Nigel snuck his way towards an entrance door he had noted earlier, when Mr. Polk had shown them the elegant rooms of this floor. Never thought he’d actually have to use it. In his mind, he was swearing ferociously. It only took a night, and already somebody had died. Not even have a chance to save them. Needless to say, it was absolutely and entirely infuriating, not to mention deadly scary. Literally, of course.

Opening the door, Auguste was greeted by several flights of stairs. The elevator wouldn’t be a good idea; too slow and too loud. If there were any predators, they would hear him in a heartbeat. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he tiptoed his way slowly, pushing the door behind him shut, freezing when it made a loud clang that echoed down the long staircase. Thankfully, he being a strong man, and the suitcase not being heavy, he had no concerns gradually lugging the weight down each flight. What he did have to watch for, as it had been for what seemed like forever now, was to be cautious. Ever alert, totally quiet. There were no lights here, so he had to constantly hold on to the railing on concrete wall to his right in order to get his bearings on his position.

The sound of an elevator. He froze momentarily as he listened to it hum, traveling up the floors towards where he had just left. Likely Polk, he surmised; that man had still been there when he’d left. Obviously, Walter must’ve heard the noise, given that he was much closer than Nigel, and decided that the hotel would be the most secure place to hide in the event of a dinosaur invasion. What an idiot, thought Nigel as he continued towards the bottom of the staircase. Fortunately, since he would’ve been able to hear Mr. Polk screaming if he was attacked, as he was now acquainted with the strongly masculine voice, that meant that the killer had not yet attacked the hotel. Nor had, unfortunately, Mr. Polk been the victim. Regardless, it brought him some security. If he was exceptionally lucky, it was still around the fence.

When Nigel reached the bottom floor, and the small metal emergency exit leading outside towards the front of the hotel loomed in front of him, he realized that the only way the dinosaur could’ve attacked is if somebody had deactivated the fence, or it had broken the fence to strike at its prey. Only somebody absolutely stupid would possibly think of deactivating that life line, so he suspected that the killer had managed to bulldoze a component of the fence in order to attack the unsuspecting victim. If that victim was clueless enough, they may have thought it amusing to watch it and take a picture of it. That didn’t seem all that unlikely, the more Nigel thought about it. However, a minute’s worth of standing around and waiting patiently, hiding behind the stairs for protection, indicated not a single noise outside. At least, nothing that would indicate massive footsteps across the fields of grass that surrounded the hotel. Whatever it was, it seemed to have struck and moved on.

The fence was useless now; the attacker would’ve likely caused a power outage when it snapped the said object. The main power to the hotel was still activated, as indicated by the working elevator, so Nigel assumed that it likely was connected to a different power outlet, or perhaps was a backup source of power. He scoffed. As past events had indicated, that surely wouldn’t last for long. Standing there, occasionally peeking out of the small window by the door to view upon the outside world (with little effect, given that his landscape was entirely coated in darkness and hard to view, even though his eyes had adjusted to it), a few seconds longer gave him the courage he needed to open the emergency door and step out into the night air. Their only defense might be rendered worthless, but he was sure the jeeps were still where they had always been, and that would provide him a convenient means of escape. Besides, the killer had obviously moved on after tasting its prey – a thought he dreaded catching a glimpse of – although how long it would take for it to return was something Nigel didn’t want to know. Or if it was patiently waiting outside of the fence for him to casually drive into its mouth. He suspected the dinosaurs were not below that intelligence-wise.

But did he honestly have another choice?

The air was moist, as expected for a jungle-like environment. Treading down the steps that composed the front of the hotel, he strode along the gravel path towards where he’d last remembered the jeeps being located. All of the torches and lights that had previously calmed him down when he was returning to the hotel earlier that night had all been blown out. By what, he didn’t want to know. And the silence was deafening, all-consuming, unnerving, swamping him in the midst of the embrace of darkness as he silently neared the location of the vehicles. The sooner to be rid of it, the better he’d be.

When he could finally see the silhouette of the vehicles he’d formerly rode in earlier in the day, his heart stopped. There was some rustling by one of them. Standing stock-still, paralyzed in a combination of fear and the hope that whatever it was would not notice him, he was soon bathed in light. A long, audible sigh of relief escaped him as the familiar shape of Richard Mercer appeared behind the jeep’s activated lights. The man had a disturbed, hallowed look on his face, and seemed as attentive and unnerved as Nigel did. Stepping forward, Auguste strode up to the front passenger’s side of the vehicle, sitting down besides the driver. They looked at each other and nodded. Both had come up with the same idea, and they had the same logic behind it. Nothing more could honestly be said about the matter.

“What about one of those?” noted Auguste when he spotted the bizarre spherical structures that he’d remembered hearing about as gyrospheres, used in the Jurassic World project. “I hear that make a lot less noise and are automated, not to mention fairly fast.”

“I’m more familiar with driving a jeep,” replied Mercer firmly, patting the vehicle roughly. “Besides, the gyrosphere doesn’t have any lights. We won’t be able to see what’s chasing us until it plants a foot right down over our heads.”

Nigel gulped. He was right, and he didn’t like it. The massive beam from the headlights illuminated the fields ahead in its large yellow-colored glow. And there, at the distance, they could see it.

The jeep drove slowly forward, humming in a silenced roar as it did so. Mercer had obviously maneuvered several before in his hunts, so it progressed smoothly. Gradually, the limp form lying on the other end of the space gradually came into view. The car stopped, and backed up several feet, so much that it could only barely be illuminated by the light. When the both of them realized what it was, they had absolutely no motivation to proceed any further.

It was a body, definitely. Or, rather, half of a body, just as red as it was broken. Brown eyes, brown hair, a ruined and bloodied pink shirt and white shorts. Lying on one side; the other side was entirely missing. They could see blood, masses of it, running down the torn face and staining the clothes an ugly crimson shade. It poured, constantly, matting the brown hair so that it masked the obviously lifeless eyes. It was gruesome to a man who had never seen such a violent death before, and horrific for a man who had never expected to see a human undergo the fate of many animals. A camera still strapped to what was left of the neck, not to mention a nearby brown purse, helped Nigel identify this unfortunate first victim. The tourist. He remembered her.

They heard a rustle in the distance – the sound of a massive creature stomping on the ground - and looked at each other. Nigel was beginning to turn green, almost ready to exhale the barbeque that had been so tasty a short while ago. Now all meat in general seemed absolutely unappetizing. Was this why people converted to vegetarianism? In the meantime, Mercer looked even paler than normal, and his mouth was a thin line. For a few moments, there was a tense silence in the either, both unable to speak momentarily. Finally, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach, looking away and waving a hand in front of his nose at the foul odor that was crawling towards them, Nigel breathed, “The gyrosphere, definitely that. I’d rather hope that the foot comes down on top of me, as I don’t want to see anything ever again.”

Mr. Auguste was not a particularly strong believer, but his fervor in prayer was likely unmatched by any other single person on the entire planet that night. Mercer had the decency to shut the lights, and the relatively noisy jeep, off. Quickly exiting the car, they stooped and bent over, trying as hard as possible not to run and take up as little space as possible as they quivered their way towards the gyrosphere, all the while silently and attentively focusing on their surroundings. The stomping was growing fainter now, gradually diminishing in the distance. Nigel breathe a sigh of relief when he could finally hear it no more. Whether it had previously detected them or not, whatever it was out there either surmised they were not worth its attention, or simply could not spot them anymore. Neither was exactly a comfort, but the stomping itself was not anywhere by the fence’s entrance and path to the ship, and, in turn, the outside world. And that was of at least some help. Even if it wasn’t relieving.

It took them a couple of minutes to find the transparent gyrosphere, though they eventually were able to locate a conveniently spaced one not far from the location of the jeeps. A few more minutes were required to figure out how to start it and make it operate, despite the helpful, though strange, guide directing them through the whole process. The object itself had built-in coordinates to take them towards the dock where the ship had been earlier in the day, so it meant that they had no need to focus on driving the entire way. Small comfort, as soon became apparent. They had to travel slowly, incredibly so. Any faster speeds risked them barreling loudly through the landscape and being discovered by whatever the killer was, which would lead it to pursue them. And then they had severe doubts that the gyrosphere could possibly outrun it.

Too, they had to momentarily override the automatic controls when the gyrosphere stopped outside of the metal door that Nigel had remembered seeing the guards in earlier that day. Those guards weren’t around now, and the door was wide open. The man, already suffering from a terrible bout of nausea, crippling fear, and antagonized by himself, hadn’t the guts to open his eyes to see if there were any bloodstains. Regardless, they could not hope of continuing without, as Nigel was assuming from the gyrosphere’s inability to move any further, a signal from the guards. An electrical switch, perhaps? Or maybe a sensor at the gate itself? Naturally, neither of the two men were willing to step outside of the vehicle, lest they find the bodies of either the guards. Or, worse yet, their killers. A minute’s quick thinking on both his and Mercer’s accounts allowed them to assume control of the vehicle, casually roll it through the metal gate, and activated the craft’s automatic controls. Seemingly satisfied, the orb began to travel forward, humming as it began to traverse the couple miles of gravel paths that separated the hotel from the shore.

It was hard not to feel as though they were the only humans existing on the world. Their landscape was full of nothing. Not a sound. A bird occasionally chirped, but these were brief, though appreciated, moments. It was as though everything had simultaneously decided to go to sleep by some unknown signal, allowing the jungle trees to suffocate them in their embrace. It swamped the gyrosphere as well. Its constant errant rubbing against tree branches, and the flicking sounds they made as they were released, added almost a rhythmic sense of entrapment and despair to what was already a dreadful scene. Nigel had buried his head in his hands and was shaking it back and forth, always echoing the same set of words quietly, with little pause in between. “We need to get to shore, we need to get to shore and find the sailors. And then we need to find a signal, a signal we can send out to the mainland. Anybody – the army, the navy, let them come as quick as possible. They need to come here, save every last living person on this island, and blast the damn thing into the sea. Over and over and over again, again and again, let nothing last.” He didn’t know that he’d forgotten all of his things in the jeep, but, in the event he did, he would not have cared for such trivialities.

Was death supposed to be this cruel? He had heard of it. The way it tore people apart, stabbing just as much at them with an emotional dagger that was far more powerful than any physical one, not to mention just as effect. How it messes with minds and dances over everyone’s heads as a grim reminder of an inevitable end. How so many people grew to fear it, almost worshipping it by hiding and cowering at the merest mention of its name. He’d never had to experience any of his friends, his family, his loved ones pass before. Not even someone who he’d met personally in the past, who had just been alive an hour ago. And now was dead, completely, horrifically, and utterly so. Nigel had long been aware that something like this might possibly happen, especially given Isla Nublar’s track record. Something was bound to go wrong. Dinosaurs couldn’t be contained; they would always find some way to defy all human efforts to stop them, survive in their own fashion and even come alive, whether or not the humans had to be crushed underfoot for it. There was no hope to begin with; only a few wise words from Mr. Polk and his own undying optimism kept this mission from falling into madness. Only his curiosity, an overpowering force, had dragged him here. Now it was more that satiated, and it wanted to leave at once.

And he had thought that he was prepared for this. That he could actually mentally defend himself against the inevitable prospect of death. The dinosaurs were cornered rats on this island, on a weakened and dying ecosystem gradually wasting away. A bunch of puny humans, which the more predatory of these organisms had grown accustomed to the taste of, had tried, as usual, to come in and fashion their own vision. Unlike all of the others in the respect that it would provide a unique situation, try to craft its own dream with a tad more money and a little more resources. Except it too made countless mistakes. Not the same ones, but different ones. Of course, they too wanted to contain the dinosaurs. Lock them in cages, display them to enthusiastic audiences. This was the fatal flaw, as it neglected to consider that the victims were living organisms with animalistic behaviors. They did not appreciate behind stuffed up and prevented from living their lives. From growing, maturing, killing each other, dying, and repeating the process. Especially now that the cycle was threatening to fall apart, and they were growing gaunter and hungrier with every day. Something had to go wrong inevitably, as man could not hope to control an enraged nature. It had a hard time enough with the peaceful, calm, but incredibly massive and ever-changing nature, much less one that found it most advantageous to crush humanity under its own mass.

Yet he had thought he could handle the bloodshed. The screaming, the broken minds, glassy eyes, faces coated in ruin. His own naivety, ironically, undid him; his own lack of experience with death made it all the more appalling, grisly, and terrifying. Especially the fact that, had he remained out there, had he worked to warn the tourist against being attacked, she might still be alive. She might still have a full body, rather than half of one. The thought that somebody had died was painful enough, the idea that they were no longer alive. An unworking mind, and unbeating heart, all those dreams and emotions and hopes and losses wiped away, never to be dreamed, hoped, remembered again, completely lost and forgotten. Too tragic for his addled, exhausted mind to fully comprehend. The adrenaline rush was beginning to wear away, his body having devoted a tad too much, and now running low on supplies. With a lack of this hormone supplying him that necessary energy and awareness of his surroundings, Nigel felt cement bricks gradually fall upon his eyelids. Those hours of fear, of tension, of preparing to run at any moment were now gone, as the body recognized it was no longer in such a situation. An overbearing mental and physical weight was too much for his mind to be able to process and interpret. Driving around at incredibly slow speeds in the middle of night, when he was missing hours of sleep, wasn’t helpful.

Keeping himself awake any longer was impossible. His words gradually grew quieter and quieter as his body slumped forward. The contemplation over the futility of expedition and agonizing over the nature and horrors that death could provide were stored away by the mind, deposited neatly in a spare corner for investigation in the morning. He just couldn’t muster the energy to think about it any longer. Before he knew it, he was asleep, dreaming bizarre and violent dreams he could not comprehend, nor would be remember in the morning, as the gyrosphere gradually crawled across the quiet jungle landscape toward its destination.

******

A tap on the shoulder. For a second, Nigel believed he was back in bed. In his own room, in his own apartment. The cleaning lady he’d hired on Tuesdays had come in awfully early today. Groaning, groggy and weary, his eyes began to open, and were instantly blinded by the dawn light in front of his face. Trying to throw a blanket over himself, he realized that he wasn’t lying down in bed after all; he was slumped over onto some kind of object. He snorted dreamily. He’d fallen asleep on his desk, likely after a night of pouring over scientific journals. Perhaps he’d managed to sleep in exceptionally late. That wasn’t entirely uncommon of him. Bright specks of red and purple fringed the sky in front of his face as he worked towards forcing his body into an awake state.

Of course, he was immensely surprised by the sight of a cliff face falling down almost beneath his feet. And then came the processions of jungle trees on either side of his vision, ending just shy of the ledge a path crawled down through. He was overlooking an infinite sea. Blue, calm, and almost glowing under the light of the rising sun. For a second, Nigel surmised that he must be in another dream. A paradise, this time, rather than dark corridors, distant screaming, and bloodstains on the wall. Fear, anxiety, and worry, all replaced by calmness, serenity, and the great wide open world embracing him. Consolation for his strange imaginings?

Jolted wide awake, the events of the previous day flooded into his mind. Groaning in exasperation, Nigel felt another tap on the shoulder. Mercer then pointed down towards the bottom of the steep cliff. To his left, Nigel could see a wide path hugging the sides of the cliff and forming a couple of gentle switchbacks before entering the large sandy coast beneath. On that beach was the large wooden deck Auguste had stepped off of the previous morning. Still as polished and refined as ever, it fit in nicely with the lighter elegance of the sand and the blue, clear tranquility of the ocean that lapped around its supports. And there was the cruise ship that Mr. Polk had summoned to transport them across the sea to begin the voyage. Just as beautiful, massive, and glorious as ever. Yes, everything about this scene was absolutely perfect, and, accompanied with a good fruity and tropical drink, would’ve made for something almost resembling a paradise.

Save for the fact that the ship was no longer attached to the deck as it should’ve been. Not to mention that it was slowly sailing away across the clear waters.

“Those ba…” began Nigel as consciousness struck him full force. Thrusting open the door to the transparent gyrosphere, he stepped out on the soft dirt and gravel that marked the road leading towards Isla Nublar. Mercer did the same, and the two men stood on top of the steep cliff, peering towards the ship as they squinted under the light of the dawn.

“What in the hell are they doing?” barked an infuriated Nigel, likely voicing Mercer’s own thoughts. “I was told that they would stay by the shore for this entire expedition! We need to board that ship in order to be able to contact the outside world. So why in the hell are they ditching…”

A shadow flickered by one of the ship’s multitudes of windows. It was definitely not human. From the distance, a loud, shrill scream broke the tranquility of the air and water. That was.

“Well,” quipped Mercer in a voice laced in horror as both men gawked at the spectacle that was surely taking place on the vessel. “There’s your Jurassic Paradise.”

“This…this isn’t a paradise,” whispered Nigel in return. His mind flashed back to the roaring of the carnivore. The dead body. The vanished guards. So much death in so little time. So much carnage, so much horror. It was almost unreal, like a fantasy story that had forgotten it was supposed to be a lighthearted and happy adventure. “It’s a nightmare. An endless, bloody nightmare. And I can’t pinch myself and wake myself up, as much as I want to, and as hard as I hope I can.

The both of us know that, if we’re right, it won’t be stopping any time soon.”
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.





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Wed May 18, 2016 9:35 pm
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Lefty says...



Christopher Chase Polk - Sunday, Day 2 On The Island, 7:30am

Christopher opened his eyes that morning to see warm sunlight shining through the royal red curtains that hung open at the sides of the big bay windows leading out onto his own private balcony. The salty air of the island mingled in his nose, the Egyptian cotton sheets feeling like silky clouds against his skin. He took in a long, relaxed breath. Paradise, he thought. Now he understood what all the hype of staying at a resort was all about, and not only that, but this was a dinosaur resort. What could be cooler than that?

He groggily looked up at the alarm clock by his bed. It read: 12:00AM in bright red letters. "That's weird," he mumbled to himself. Apparently, the power had gone out, resetting the alarm. But given that the power was clearly back on, he shrugged it off. "Maybe it was just a power surge."

Chris wandered out into the hall, wiping his sleepy eyes with the palm of his hand. Surely, knowing his grandfather, there was breakfast waiting for everyone downstairs. Christopher had always been a deep sleeper--he could sleep through just about anything-- and last night was no exception. And nothing sounded like a better way to start off the day, than with a big stack of chocolate chip pancakes in the elegant dining room of their hotel.

He headed for the elevator, his blue and white striped pajama pants dragging on the ground. He hadn't quite grown into them, but his mom assured him he'd hit a growth spurt soon enough.

He didn't take much notice to the other man who stood waiting for the elevator until the doors opened with a ding! and he turned his startlingly green eyes down on Chris and smiled. "After you," he said.

Chris did a double take as he stepped into the elevator. "You-You're Anaxander Fury! Aren't you?"

"Please, call me Ax." He pulled the strap of his backpack up onto his shoulder. "You've heard of me, I see."

"Heard of you?" Chris said incredulously. "You're my idol. I've see every documentary you've ever made!"

Ax leaned against the railing of the elevator as it gradually descended downward. "Well, would you look at that. I've got a fan among our group." He flashed Christopher a perfect smile. "Tell me, kid. How old are you?"

"Fourteen. But... I'll be fifteen in seven months," he added, trying to stand up a little taller.

"You're kinda young to be on an expedition like this, don't you think?"

Christopher shrugged. "Nah... Polk is my grandfather. And besides, I'm something of a dinosaur expert."

"Oh really?" Ax said, amused.

Chris crossed his arms over his white teeshirt. "Try me."

Ax thought for a moment. "What era were dinosaurs originally alive?"

"The Mesozoic Era, which included The Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous periods. Despite the fact that the recent dinosaur experiments have been named after the Jurassic period, most of the dinosaurs they were able to bring back were actually from the Cretaceous period."

"What does dinosaur mean?"

"It means 'terrible lizard' in greek," Chris said. He gave him a look. "These are easy."

"Alright, alright... How about... When did the dinosaurs go extinct?"

"Most people say about 65 million years ago," Chris said. "But a lot of scientists believe that they never went extinct, because they consider the birds of today to be dinosaurs."

"What can I say... I'm impressed, kid." Ax gave him a nod. "You know your stuff."

Chris beamed with pride. Had he really just impressed his idol?

Finally, the elevator doors opened, and natural sunlight flooded into the shaft from the big windows lining the front of the hotel.

"I'll see you around, kid," Ax said as he headed towards the dining room. Chris watched him go for a moment, still in awe of his encounter with the great Anaxander Fury. He wondered if he should pinch himself. Maybe he was still dreaming. This all just seemed too good to be true.

Christopher headed out into the foyer, his socks slipping a little on the polished granite beneath his feet. He followed after Ax, towards the dining room. It was the first door on the left in a long hallway that led to an assortment of additional rooms. Half of the people from their expedition were inside, going down the line of the extensive breakfast buffet or chatting at the long mahogany table going down the middle of the room. Dr. Jorge Harrison poured himself some fresh coffee, while Alex Harbor waited patiently behind him, examining a container of half-and-half a little too closely.

But what about his grandfather? Christopher scanned the room, and he was know where to be seen. That's odd, he thought.

Annabelle walked into the room behind him and grabbed a plate at the end of the line. "Hey, kiddo."

Christopher blushed. "Hey... Have you seen my grandfather?"

Annabelle frowned. "I think I heard him talking in a room down the hall."

"Thanks." Chris turned and headed further down the hallway. Before long, two voices came into ear shot: Polk's and Carson's. He turned into a small ballroom, its grand doors wide open. They stood inside, talking, but their words cut off abruptly when they saw him.

"Hey, Chris! You're up!" Polk beamed.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Just having a conversation," Polk said happily. "How did you sleep?"

Carson gave Polk a hard look. "Polk, we're not finished here."

"Yes, of course." Polk put his hand on Christopher's shoulder and led him back out of the room. "I'll... be in the dining room in just a moment. Why don't get started on breakfast? You don't want it to get cold."

Christopher was about to answer when the doors abruptly closed behind him. Okay... He started back towards to the dining room, but curiosity got the best of him. Something odd was going on, and he wanted to know what it was.

So he took a few steps back towards the door and carefully pressed his ear up against the wood.

"Polk, I agreed to keep last night to myself. But this? This is going too far," Carson chided.

"I only need you to keep it a secret for a couple of hours. Just until I find out what happened."

"Polk, there are two people missing! For all we know, they're dead, too." Carson's voice grew more stern. "If there is a threat to this location, I need to know about it."

Christopher drew his brow into a hard line. What did he mean by 'they're dead, too?' Someone died?

"One of the gyrospheres are gone. I think Mercer and Auguste went willingly. I just don't know why," Polk said calmly.

"Hmm... here's an idea. They heard the screams perhaps? Polk, these people need to know what's going on!"

"Which is why I'm waiting until I know what's going on, so I know what to tell them. I just need you to keep this to yourself for a few more hours."

Carson sighed. "Fine. A few hours. After that, I'm telling everyone."

Christopher's heart pounded. Something was definitely going on. A part of him wished he had left when he was told to. Ignorance is bliss, and maybe he was right. He knew he wasn't dreaming, but something about this trip was certainly too good to be true. What if everyone was right to worry from the beginning. Were they in danger?

His eyes widened when he heard Carson stomping towards the door. He hurried back down the hall and slipped into the dining room just as the door to the ballroom burst open. He rushed into line and started piling food onto his plate, making up for the lost time in which he should have been getting breakfast. His hands shook a little as he grabbed the utensils, spooning the scrambled eggs onto his plate.

"You okay, there?" Harrison said ahead of him in line.

"I'm fine," Chris squeaked. He cleared his throat. He hated when his voice did that. "Just hungry, is all."

Harrison shrugged. "Alright," he said, then headed back to the table.

I'm fine, Christopher told himself. Everything is just fine.

But... Was it?
Hear me out, there's so much more to life than what you're feeling now. Someday you'll look back on all these days, and all this pain is gonna be invisible. - Hunter Hayes








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