Friday, 26 September 2014

The Island of Death

Two years ago I was trapped on a deserted island, let me tell you about it. I was on a mission to find life around different parts of the globe. My helicopter crashed. I was the only one to survive.

I looked around the deathly islands all I saw was a terrifying jungle with blood scattered over the trees and on the ground. I found a dusty, moss covered house made of bricks and wood, on the shore line next to the jungle entrance.  It pulled me into it like there was some sort of mega magnet in it.

I entered with caution. I was trembling in fear. It was becoming darker as night was falling.  I fell asleep in front of a shoe cupboard.  I woke up with a loud crashing on the door.

I was shaking in fear, I was sure I had seen the door knob turn. I hid behind the smelly shoe cupboard prepared with my loaded assault rifle. A menacing image came through the door, holding a chainsaw. He wore a hockey mask to hide his face.  There was blood dripping down his right arm.

I popped out from behind the shoe cupboard and blew his face off with my assault rifle.

"On an island far, far away I was trapped and that was what happened, Lizard," I explained.

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