Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Short Story: Sand Island

Written By: Daniel Gutierrez

      Miller was astonished to discover such a bizarre little island. By size, the isle was less than a hundred yards in diameter and it was completely covered in sand. Even weirder, the sand was all red with different shades of red. Crimson troughs. Ruby hills. Burgundy dunes. Scarlet curves. Maroon rocks. But there were no palm trees, no seagulls in sight, or crabs on the beach shore. There was no sign of life here.
      “Good news, Captain Miller, we’re not so far from the coast,” Frank said, approaching with a big smile. He was one of the crew workers.
      Miller looked back and nodded his approval. “Is everybody all right?”
      “Some minor injuries but they’re all doing good.”
      “And our rescue situation?”
      “All I can say is thanks God for that beacon. A rescue crew is already on their way.”
      Miller gestured to the ground. “Don’t you think it’s strange that no one ever found this island? Especially being so close to the mainland?”
      Frank shrugged. “Yes, sir, very strange. But this is just a small sand island. Probably been overlooked.”
      “But have you ever seen sand so red before?”

      “I’ve seen some red sand in Maui before. But not this red.”
      Miller grunted his agreement. “Me, either. I don’t know why, Frank, but I don’t like this place.”
      “Well, Captain, it sure as hell beats being stranded in the middle of the ocean, doesn’t it?”
      Miller nodded, knowing it could be worst, and observed his shipwrecked crew. The survivors from the cruise ship were taking refuge on the island, resting and lying around the dune. All the men, women, and children that had managed to escape with no fatalities. He was proud of that reality.
      The sky was twilight dark with the faint sunlight dying in the horizon. Letting out a sigh, Miller knelt down and dug his hand into the sand. He looked closer at the handful of red grains in his palm, reminding him of actual blood. Yet there was something . . . undeniably parasitic about them.
      Suddenly, out of nowhere, the ground shifted beneath his feet like a faint earthquake. He paused, trying to figure out what it was. The movement was subtle yet unmistakably there. The breeze from the ocean suddenly felt colder, granting him chills.
      Before he could move, the sand held in his hand began tingling through his palms and fingers. Then the tingling exploded with excruciating, stinging irregularity.
      He howled out in horror as he realized his hand was becoming this blood-ridden, skeletal thing, still drenched in sand. Numbly, he started to feel the same electric jolt of pain tingling at his feet. Prickling—no, it was nibbling into his flesh. He gazed down and moaned at the fresh puddle of blood spreading through the ground to where his feet were standing.
      Then the other people started screaming and shrieking in agony.
      Somewhere in the back of his dazed mind, it all suddenly made sense why this island was so red

No part of this work may be reproduced or republished by any means without the prior written permission of the author.


Anonymous said...

short and freaky, just the way i like it!

Sue said...

Yup Straight to the point! Great JOB!

Post a Comment