September 8th, 2019
She didn’t know where she was, but she’d been counting the days, keeping what she hoped was the accurate date in her head. The island that she’d been unwittingly stranded on was quite vast and not at all hospitable, but she’d made it so far and up until now she hadn’t found anything big enough or mean enough to cause her any serious grief. Of course it could always be the little things that killed you.
The current storm that she’d seen brewing several miles out upon reaching the coast just yesterday said as much. It had moved much slower than she’d thought it would, gathering force perhaps and preparing to unleash a barrage of woe upon this place and all that existed upon it. Waking up this day she’d been aware of two things, that she’d had something crawling it way up her leg, and that the storm had just about reached the island. Perhaps it had been blown off course only to be blown back in this direction, but she had seen and heard the effects of its coming only moments before something had set to pinching and then biting her within her pants.
The initial bite had been quite painful, but over the course of time, perhaps a few seconds, it had grown to an agony so intense that she’d been unable to do more than roll over and heave up the meager meal she’d consumed the day before upon the rocks of the small cave she’d found to hole up in. Before the pain had set in she’d acted on instinct and smashed whatever it was inside her leg, feeling it crunch and splatter before it finally stopped moving.
That had only been minutes ago, and it had taken every ounce of strength and willpower she had to undo her zipper and the button above it to reach into her pants and pull out whatever had bitten her. She’d pulled out a centipede nearly nine inches long, still twitching, its head a ruined mess as a few of its legs had sought to move it along. She hadn’t even the strength fling it away, and had done her best to roll over and then roll back, letting her hand open as she cried out in agony.
The small things, she’d thought, almost laughing at the irony as outside her cave the wind began to howl.
(to be continued)