This was our venture to the Island of the Fallen Angel.
The five of us embarked onto a trip that no man should endure. The Island of the Fallen Angel has lived many lives; lives that have given hope to some and taken the souls of others.
We left on a day not like today, one that sucked. The island is only accessible through bribery. The deckhands of the sea ferries barter in rare gemstones and ancient currency of bear skulls. The salty sea was cold and choppy, the white caps threw our boat like a rag doll. after hours, through the dense grey fog, the island appeared.
when we arrived at the island our scanners recognized that we were dangerously far from any Starbucks. Fraps, Caps, the things we live for are nothing but dust in the wind. We had 24 hours to survive on the Island of the Fallen Angel. Moral was down and our crew was falling apart.
- Nohlin, head of ammunition and explosives. Born in-between two glaciers, some say his blood runs backwards.
- Hormuth, Anthropology. Hormuth has spent his life studying this island. His finding of the island leaves scars through his dreams. He won’t say its name out loud.
- Drew, Journalist, Specialized in the documentation of the afterlife, his cameras capture the residue of death. He has recognition from the the science community for proving that demons exist.
- Simon, philosophy. His studies of the cultures who have passed through this place and have only left ruins, Busk is willing to risk his life to find the answers of those forgotten.
- Myself, Dylan Buffington, exploration, I have spent my life seeking for the unseen. searching for the questions that turn others away, and hungry for the danger of mystery.
Through the haze we trekked on. Our camp was not safe on the shorelines, we had to make out way inland and higher in elevation to hide from the wildlife that haunts the island at night. Hours had passed, camp had been set. Our queries of the island brought us to the only peak. With our magic rust water, once consumed, we were able to see the light that only the ancient cultures knew about, their carvings brought us to this place. Drew set up his equipment and took dozens of photos. They all caught fire when he tried looking at them. The golden light pierced through the dark cloak of the falling sky.
The five of us woke up in a spiraling daze the next morning. Everything that happened the previous night was undocumented and unspoken of don’t ask us about any of it. Simon used hypnosis to crack the walls that the island built inside of his head. Nothing was recovered from the depths of his memory.
Once camp was broken down, Hormuth noticed his compass spinning on axis, the island had its own magnetic field. With no sense of direction we only had our instincts. Hours later we found ourselves walking through the tombstones of the abandoned cities. The temperature dropped by 50 degrees and our lives were in danger. We had to get out.
The boat was set to meet us at 1500 hours and Nohlin used the last of the explosives on the way down the hill just for fun. This left us defenseless against the natives. We carved spears to ward off the hostiles. When the boat arrived we had to jump a 15 foot gap onto the deck of the boat. We didn’t speak the whole trip back. Simon puked, Nick cried.
Do not attempt to go to this island, this is our only reques
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