On The Island...It was a warm summer day, and the bright sun was slowly creeping up the sky to hang directly above the earth. The hours passed with the occasional period of shade, as the occasional cloud drifted between the sun and the ground. It wouldn't have been hard to appreciate how good the weather was at the moment, and it would have been easy to relax at such a time. And then there was Thomas. Thomas was rapidly doing the preparations which, until the point, he had accidentally put off in favor of attempting what would be his next attempt at a successful short story, and he regretted that, as he could not find the antique gas lantern that he had favored so much. For now, the items he had accounted for were among a small amount of flashlights, a generous amount of batteries, four walkie-talkies, a revolver, pencils, pens, paper, a few copies of maps of the island, a swiss-army-knife, medical kits, a camera, and his current draft of the previously mentioned short story. He had everything in a large, multi-compartment backpack that was humorously over-sized, giving him the appearance that emulated a bipedal tortoise. He was now sure that there would be no shortage of supplies at the cabin on the island, but it never hurt to be thorough. This trip was meant to celebrate a number of things, among them were his nineteenth birthday, which would be in a few days, the start of summer, and an extremely belated celebration of local publishing of a short horror story of his. He was waiting patiently for the first of his friends to arrive, and in the meantime he looked for his prized lantern. He was, at the time, the only notable occupant of the large cabin, and any room he was not currently occupying had the lights out. He was very excited for this trip, and hoped that most of the people he invited could make it. He peered out an adjacent window, anticipating that in a short while, a familiar face or two would become apparent to them. He has been sure to arrange travel with any friends who he worried couldn't make it otherwise. There was a small boat with enough room for a group of people, and he knew a person who would take them, an older man who, despite being very off put by Thomas's hobbies, accepted Thomas's payment in exchange for the small task. His friends would likely be here in mere minutes. As such, he took his supplies and made his way down the path towards the dock on the island. A short while earlier, at the Dock on the shore...An older man, looking to be in his seventies, sat at the helm of a boat large enough to hold a small group of people. His face was gaunt, his eyes sunken, and his hair and beard were snow white. His outfit brought to mind that of a fisherman, though he had no fishing supplies with him. He squinted in the sunlight, and brought his hand to his brow to shield his eyes as he saw two identical young men. He called out to them in a voice not particularly welcoming, though not necessarily threatening. "Hey! You guys Tom's friends? This is the boat to 'is island."