The Island where Everyone Dies

[Fiori]

INT. DARREN'S CABIN - NIGHT 

The video opens, as it usually does, with Darren clapping his hands together before leaning back in his chair, sitting at his desk with a bright smile on his face. His hair is left loose around his shoulders, and a digital clock in the background timestamps the video taking place at 12:09.

"Hello, and welcome to Adventures in the American Wildlands!" he announces in his usual bright tone. "We are less than a day away from the island, and as you can probably tell I am... A little excited, shall we say?"

He lets out a soft laugh, rubbing his hands together as he leans against his desk. "Now, I was going to call it for the night, but I was speaking to some of the crew today and one of them told me a very interesting story about the island's history. And since tomorrow's going to be a busy day, I figured... Why not? I'm too jazzed to sleep anyway!"

The clock in the background turns to 12:10.

"So, back in the 1950s..." he begins, only for a loud siren to cut him off. A puzzled Darren looks away from the camera, looking up as the captain's voice rings out on the intercom.

“Attention everyone. This is a Code Gray. I repeat, Code Gray. Please make your way to your assigned stations. This is not a drill. The coolant system is experiencing a malfunction and we believe there may be a radiation hazard. All technicians, be advised that reactor trip is currently not operational due to a uh… mechanical failure. We are currently unable to SCRAM the reactor. Yeah. So get a move on.”

"Oh, shit..." Darren lets out, before covering his mouth when he realises he swore on camera.

“All visitors are to confine themselves to their berths until further notice. Iodine tablets are available in each of your rooms, in a yellow container next to your first aid kits. You are advised to take one with the bottled water provided as we have not been able to assess shipwide exposure at this time. Please remain in your berths and await further instructions. Crew will be sweeping the decks to ensure that all visitors have made their way to their quarters.”

A look of concern and mild panic in his eyes, Darren scrambles around for his first aid kit, finding the yellow container and opening it up to fetch out the iodine tablet. He pops it into his mouth, reaching out for his water bottle and unscrewing the lid as he turns back to the camera.

"Well, you heard the man!" he laughs nervously before glugging down that water and swallowing the tablet, gulping it down before screwing the lid back on. "Okay, well, hopefully this isn't as dramatic as it sounds but I think I'm going to have to call it there!" he exclaims loudly, with the alarm still blaring in the background.

"I'll let you all..." he continues, before letting out a long yawn. "Let you all know how things go in a bit!" he says, his eyes already drooping slightly as he reaches out to turn the camera off.

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((P001 Darren Decker - START))
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INT. CARGO CONTAINER - MORNING

The video opens to darkness.

There is some shuffling and scrambling, the sounds of a body shifting against metal, before suddenly a bright light. As the camera adjusts to the new lighting, it eventually reveals Darren's face looking down, his hair back in it's usual manbun and his face illuminated by a flashlight. He appears to be in an enclosed metallic space, his eyes red and cheeks flushed as if he was recently in tears. He is not smiling.

"I..." he chokes, sniffling and wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. "I don't even know where to begin with this video... If you are seeing this right now, know that I can't guarantee that I am safe, or even... Alive."

He pauses to compose himself, taking long deep breaths as he closes his eyes. "We... We have all been kidnapped as part of an... A-An experiment, of some kind, like some real MK Ultra shit..." he stammers, not even caring about maintaining his usual ad-friendly persona anymore. "I just want to make it clear right now that this is NOT a skit. Or a bit, or like... Some fucking viral campaign, this. Is. REAL."

There is a rare flash of anger in his eyes as he glares down at the camera. "That... That video of me talking to the captain is fake, I repeat, IT'S NOT REAL! They... They fucking deepfaked me, put my face on someone else's body!"

He looks genuinely disgusted, violated even, gritting his teeth as he looks past the camera. "They have... Oh, god, they have told us all that we are expected to... To kill each other. O-our professors, Mark, Peter, Carla..." he continues, choking again at that last name as he covers his eyes. "They're already dead."

He takes another moment to catch his breath, wiping his eyes before looking back at the camera. "I... There's more to this island than just... I don't even know how to explain it without sounding insane. Which is why..."

He breaths in and out slowly, composing himself with a determined look in his eyes. "Which is why I need to show you. Why I need to document what is happening on this island. The world needs to know what Janus-Hayes is doing here. I... I don't know how I'm going to get this footage out there..."

He sighs, leaning back against the metal wall of the storage container he woke up in.

"But I have to try."

[MethodicalSlacker]

♫The Durutti Column - Sketch for Winter♫

Jarrett walked between a two rows of containers, a burning joint hanging from their lips, bags slung over their left shoulder, and a sheathed sword bouncing on their belt on their right side.

A container maze was one of those places Jarrett wrote about but never had been to. It was less of a maze in person, they had gathered. That, or their sense of direction was better than they thought. Besides the warehouse, there was one clear point of orientation that Jarrett could easily see from most places around the facility—the hanging shipping container. Something that Jarrett probably didn't want to find out about was probably in there, asleep. But then, they might not want anyone trying to release it early. So they'd have a day to know if they were right or not.

And they would make it that long. They would come home. They had promised.

They held the joint with the top and bottom of their pursed lips and puffed smoke out of the sides of their mouth. Maybe it wasn't entirely smart to leave a trail of smoke, and smoke smell. Maybe it wasn't entirely smart to be high when there were potentially people trying to kill you, either. Jarrett wasn't sure how many people would take the bait. It was clear, to them at least, that there was a much bigger concern on the very near horizon. Maybe more than one. After all, the man had said experiments, plural. Or had Jarrett missed that he had a lisp, somehow? It was possible. Hard to concentrate much when the guy two seats to your right got the shit kicked out of him and a rag stuffed in his mouth. And when you're watching...

Jarrett tried to put that one far from their mind, lest they put out their joint prematurely with their own vomit. They didn't have to try hard; their distraction came from a sound on the wind, muffled sniffling, sobbing, speaking. Behind the mask of an echo was a familiar voice, one they had heard—or thought they heard, but it was probably (probably) an imitation—more recently than any of the other passengers on the ship.

Jarrett took the joint out of their mouth and put it out with a licked finger. It would be rude to blow smoke in somebody's face.

Carefully, they approached the container. There was no telling what weapon Darren had, and if he'd use it. Was he mumbling to himself, or did they let him keep his camera? Jarrett had been surprised themselves at what they'd been left with. Exhibit A in pocket left.

They stopped moving closer five paces from the container, and took three steps to their left to be visible from the open side.

"That you in there, Darren?" they asked, projecting their voice, "It's me, Jarrett. Are you...?"

That wouldn't be appropriate. None of us are okay, exactly.

It took until then for them to realize their face was probably still puffy and red from before. Maybe the high eyes masked it a little. And what were they worried about being judged for, anyway? You'd have to be nuts not to cry for at least fifteen minutes when faced with some shit like this.

[Fiori]

"...apparently if I ever take it off, it'll shut down permanently. Not... Entirely sure why they've designed it that way, but I'm just a film student so what do I know."

Darren had been going through his PDA, describing it to the camera and showing off a few of it's features. He appears to be a lot calmer than he was earlier, not exactly back to his old cheerful self but not quite as distraught as before as he addressed his unseen audience.

"So, that's the PDA. Pretty neat if it wasn't for the whole... Survival of the Fittest, thing" he continues before turning to the duffel bag lying on the side beside him. "Apparently we've also been assigned weapons, but I haven't had the heart to..."

At that point he's interrupted by a familiar voice, looking up off-camera. "Jarret?" he asks, his mood brightening up instantly. "Jarret!"

He places the camera down, making sure to position it so that it's facing towards the open exit to the container where Jarret was standing, quickly heading on over to grab his friend by the arm and pull them in for a quick hug. "Oh son of a bitch, I never thought I'd ever see you again!"

[MethodicalSlacker]

Jarrett took Darren in their arms and embraced him, holding him tight and not patting him on the back.

"I'm glad I found you," Jarrett said, "before someone else found me. Or you."

They let go and took a step back, and looked into the container. There was the camera, on the ground. Pointing at them, recording.

"I'm surprised they let you keep that," they said. "I guess I shouldn't be, though. After all, they let me keep- hold on."

Jarrett took the joint out of their pocket and couldn't help but smile.

"These."

They packed enough for what was advertised; four days on the boat there, four days on the boat back, and two weeks in between. Some, most, is in joints, hand rolled before the trip. The second largest portion; flower, in small plastic cannisters, for a sherlock pipe. Lastly; a pack of 20 5mg edible gummies. All present, besides what was already consumed, along with a good five lighters of various capabilities.

Jarrett put the joint back in their pocket. The point was, they had enough to share. Especially now that even if they got out somehow, they wouldn't have four days of smoking at the end. That's four surplus days.

"So what'd they give you for a weapon?" Jarrett asked, "I got, well, you already can see it."

[Fiori]

Darren turns back towards the camera, scratching the back of his head as he chuckles nervously.

"Haha, yeah..." he sighs, turning back to Jarret just in time to see them show off the joint in their pocket, unable to help give his beard a scratch as he nods his head with a grin. "Sweet. Duly noted..." he says softly. He normally wouldn't be so open about his own drug habits on camera, but given recent events he didn't seem to mind lifting the veil a little.

"Me, I... I haven't checked yet. Suppose now is as good a time as any" he says, making his way back inside the storage container and squatting down as he pulls his duffle bag towards him. "I, uh, hope you don't mind the camera? I know this might sound stupid, but I... If there's any way we can make it off this island, I want to bring evidence of what's happening here. Show the world what Janus-Hayes is up to, y'know?"

Darren turns back towards the camera. "Funny, Jacquie always wanted me to do an unboxing video..." he laughs softly, before unzipping the bag and shifting through it's contents. "Let's see... Oh, MREs? That's generous of them" he says, taking it out to take a closer look. "Mexican Style Chicken Stew..." he reads, his brow furrowing. Not exactly ideal for a vegetarian.

"Well, what else have we got here..." he continues, shifting through the bag some more. Eventually he stops, pausing for a moment as he lifts a bone from the bag. He remains silent, looking it over, more confused than anything else at first. Once it finally clicks that it's a human bone, he suddenly drops it with a look of disgust in his eyes.

"Oh shit! Oh my god-" he gasps, covering his mouth. "Jesus Christ..."

[MethodicalSlacker]

"I don't mind at all," Jarrett said, "hell, once we make it out of here, I bet you'll get to use the footage from their cameras for your doc anyway."

For some reason, Darren's filmmaking made them hopeful. They were thinking about the future too, acting like they'd make it out. Sure, according to the rules, they couldn't both leave. But they didn't know if that was true. It could be something they were told in order to get them to act a certain way. They did that in some psychological experiments Jarrett had read about—the Stanford Prison Experiment was presented to its participants as of a different nature than it turned out to be, they remembered, from Psychology 100, which fulfilled a Gen-Ed a few years ago. So it could be that they let them kill each other for, say, five days. before they pulled the curtain away and showed them what it really was.

Or, they didn't know, maybe it was some other way. It was hard to tell. They were stoned. Right now what was much more interesting than theorycrafting was the contents of Darren's bag. Jarrett had already looked through their own things, and though the idea of eating M.R.E.'s wasn't exactly appealing, at least they had enough for some time. And they all had different flavors. Mexican Style Chicken Stew wasn't exactly an appealing flavor, but there were others, anyway.

Like that bone, for instance. That would probably make it taste pretty funky.

Jarrett jumped when Darren dropped it. It looked like he was going to gag. Jarrett didn't smell anything past the cold but gagged too regardless.

"God," they said, "2001 moment."

That hurt their chances. Between the two of them, they had one real weapon. And Jarrett felt better that they were the one holding it. But didn't they see something on the map, before?

"I looked at the map earlier, and there's like, an armory in town?" Jarrett said, "Maybe we can stop by there later, before it gets dark, see if there's anything you can use."

It didn't occur to them to apologize for Darren's misfortune.

[Fiori]

Darren lets out a nervous laugh at the 2001 reference, a guilty look in his eyes as he hesitantly reaches out to pick the bone up again. "I think this used to belong to someone..." he whispers, with a gulp.

He turns back to Jarret as his friend continued, nodding his head in agreement as he scratched his beard. "You don't say? Lets have a look..."

Seemingly trying to distract himself from the femur he'd been assigned, Darren reaches back down into his bag to fetch out his map, before then remenbering that it was on his PDF and opening the appropriate menus instead. A moment later he turns back to the camera, shrugging and reaching back to pick it up and place it on the bag so that it was angled it to get a good view of the island's layout for the unseen audience.

"Let's see... I take it we're here?" he asks, pointing at the convenient little red dot on dockyards. "And if there's an armory in town, then... Well, shouldn't take us long to get there. Suppose it couldn't hurt to take a look, wouldn't want to face one of those... Things with just..."

He looks back at the femur. "Well... Y'know..."

[MethodicalSlacker]

♫Dean Blunt - 50 Cent♫

"Shit, you're actually right," Jarrett said, stepping closer, "that's people parts right there."

Jarrett stepped even closer when Darren pulled out the PDA. They took their own look at their own map when they woke their own self up on the airstrip, earlier, but only so much so that they saw which direction... stuff was in.

If there was one place Jarrett would really, really not find themselves on this island, it was where stuff—shelter from the weather and the beast, and whatever had been left behind for supplies and entertainment—was not. Even if that meant run-ins with their fellow passengers. A thirty-some-odd wild-card pile-up.

It would be easy for them to team-up with a common enemy, Jarrett thought first. On second thought, why had their kidnappers been so willing to give them one?

"Well, you should hold onto it, anyway. Maybe you could throw the bone as a distraction," Jarrett said, "like, be all movie action hero, 'here, you little fucker, fetch!'"

"Or, I dunno, we could try and use it to make a pipe and smoke out of it."

[Fiori]

Darren lets out another laugh, the sheer audacity of Jarret's joke being the exact kind of gallows humour he needed at the moment.

"Haha... I mean, suppose I could try to play fetch with that thing, though treating it like a dog didn't work out so well for..." he replies, stopping suddenly. His chest tightens up as his smile evaporates. He stares into space for a moment, seemingly flashing back to his professors' last moments, his hand covering his eyes as he takes a sharp intake of breath before shuddering in horror.

"S-sorry, just..." he sniffs, wiping his eyes clean. "Still can't believe that they're... Been finding a lot of things about our situation hard to process" he continues, taking a deep breath and a long exhale to calm his nerves.

"It all just feels so... Surreal, you know? Like something out of a bad dream, only I don't think any of us are waking up anytime soon."

[MethodicalSlacker]

"I guess I won't believe that thing is real unless I see it," Jarrett said, "and by then it'll probably be too late."

They would have opted for 'nightmare' instead of dream, but they agreed with the overall idea. This felt unreal. Not entirely nonreal. Maybe it felt more real than their waking life. Hyperreal, perhaps.

"If you want something to smoke on the walk I'm more than happy to share," Jarrett said, "it, I dunno. It helped me a little."

They took a step backwards out of the container and looked around. Just to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them. The docks looked empty. The hanging container gave them the heebie-jeebies something fierce, a sense like a presence was watching them from within, but aside from that there was nobody around. Unless they were hiding in one of the warehouses, the small ones, dotted around the landscape.

"I wonder if we're near where they filmed that," Jarrett thought aloud. "What they showed us, I mean."

There was a part of them, the morbidly curious part, that wanted to see if they could find the exact place.

Another part of them, the part that felt eyes on them, wanted nothing more than to leave.

A third part wanted them to walk to the freezing ocean and throw themselves in.

[Fiori]

Darren nods his head, wiping his brow as he composes himself.

"Yeah, I... I think a little something to take the edge off would do quite nicely" he says, taking another long deep breath before reaching back down into his bag. A moment later he retrieves his trapper hat, putting it on securely as he mentally readies himself for the challenges the island were sure to throw at them.

He turns back towards the camera. "Well, let's get to it, then..." he sighs, zipping his bag up and tossing it over his back, before picking the camera up and holding it aloft. He would then follow Jarret outside, pointing the camera up towards the haunting visual of those hanging containers in the distance. 

"That's a little ominous" he says with a gulp, before turning the camera back to Jarret as they pondered the filming location for the video they all witnessed. "Honestly, I... I think I'd rather not think about it."

The camera pans slowly to survey their surroundings, briefly focusing back on the dangling containers to zoom in for a closer look, before zooming back out again. "Okay... Well, I think I ought to conserve the batteries on this thing, so for now..."

He turns the camera back up to his face, forcing a weak smile. "Until we meet again" he says, giving the camera a half-hearted salute before turning it off.

((Darren Decker continued in Beasts All Over the Shop))

[MethodicalSlacker]

Darren sighed as he puts his camera back into his bag, before he checked his PDA again. "Right, okay," Darren said. "To the armory, then?"

"To the armory," Jarrett said with a nod.

Darren's comment about his batteries struck them. They had their phone (no signal, of course), and their JBL earbuds (with noise cancellation and TalkThru technology), and for now, Thee Endless Vibes Playlist, the 2,133 songs and 147 hours of music downloaded via Spotify to their phone they had on shuffle since the first half hour since they woke up, worked to insulate them from the harsh howling wastes bearing down on all sides. For now. Eventually, they'd run the battery down, and then they'd be truly fucked. Like if they ran out of weed. Unless, for some reason, there was power, somewhere.

Jarrett took the earbuds out of their ears and put them back in their case, putting them back into their jeans pocket. They would have to conserve that resource, as they would everything, from their meager food and water supply to their cannabis.

At least the latter could be shared. Or used as a bargaining chip, maybe?

Not with Darren. Darren deserved it. They—their captors—had made a puppet out of him. If there was anybody who deserved something to take the edge off, as he said, it was him.

"Here," Jarrett said, passing Darren a fresh joint, "let me light that for you."

[Jarrett Bergman continued in Beasts All Over The Shop.]