CHAPTER EIGHT B:
The night deepened like a wound slowly spreading open.
The jungle, once whispering with the voices of invisible things, had gone silent—as if the very trees were holding their breath. The statues they had passed earlier, carved from stone darker than night and slick with moss, now loomed like sentinels along their path. But something was wrong.
Kairo stood frozen, lantern in hand, his breath fogging in the chill that had suddenly crept over the air. One of the statues they had passed earlier now faced a different direction. He was sure of it. Earlier, its hollow eyes stared toward the path. Now, they stared straight at him.
He slowly backed away.
"Guys…" he whispered, barely louder than the wind. "Did you see that? The statue. It moved."
"I told you," whispered Amaya, eyes wide with fear, clutching her machete close. "They're watching us. They always have been."
The others tried to rationalize it. Maybe they were tired. Maybe the darkness was playing tricks. But the tension in their throats betrayed them—no one truly believed what they were saying.
They pressed deeper into the island.
As they walked, torches flickering, the underbrush seemed to shift. What looked like overgrown vines turned out to be symbols etched into stone. Strange patterns. Some were eyes. Others resembled spirals and jagged mouths. Every few steps, Kairo felt as though something brushed past his arm—though nothing was there.
Then they found something.
A circle of statues—nine of them—stood in a clearing illuminated only by moonlight. In the center, a stone bowl, cracked and dry. Each statue faced inward toward the bowl… except for one. One faced away, as if guarding the group from something beyond the circle.
"Is this some kind of ritual site?" whispered Jonah, crouching to inspect the markings.
"Or a warning," Amaya muttered.
Suddenly, Jonah shouted.
They rushed to him. His fingers trembled as he pointed at the stone base. There were carvings—recent ones. Freshly etched words in English, not ancient symbols:
"We shouldn't have come."
The team went still.
A scream split the jungle.
They spun around, weapons drawn. Ezra—the youngest of the crew—was gone. Only his lantern remained, rolling in the dirt.
"EZRA!" Kairo bellowed.
Silence.
Then… crunching footsteps in the darkness. But they weren't human.
The jungle seemed to close in, heavy and wet. A shape darted between trees. Another statue now stood beside them that hadn't been there moments before.
Amaya gripped Kairo's arm. "We have to go. Now."
They fled, crashing through vines, stumbling over roots. Behind them, the sound of stone dragging against stone echoed—slow and deliberate.
Back at their temporary camp near the shore, breathless and shaking, the crew took count.
Ezra was still missing.
But there was one extra shadow by the fire.
And as dawn began to bleed across the horizon, one of the statues stood at the edge of the trees—closer than before.
To be continued…