((Author’s note: This was a dream I had last night, obviously a combination of Lost, Haunter, Songs of a Distant Earth, and I have no idea where ice caves came from.))
The Resort was called Triangle Adventures. The whole hype behind it was the island the resort occupies is barely within the Bermuda Triangle. My parents brought me when I was six. Now I’m sixteen. There was a hurricane, Fabian, in 2004. Since then, the island has been cut off from the rest of the world, and weirdly no one has in ten years, come to check on us and no one in ten years has been able to leave to seek help. Some think we are dead, some think we are victims of the Triangle, not dead, but no longer apart of the living or real world.
My evidence for being alive is, I was six when my parents and I came to the resort. I’m sixteen. I have boobs and a menstrual cycle. Also many people did die, including my parents. I’ve been raised by Lucas. He’s a nice guy, has tried his best to keep m safe. Before the Hurricane he worked as a maintenance man for the resort, now he’s kind of this loner guy.
The island the resort is on, is large, has some wild boar, birds, trees, and the shallows around the island are teeming with life, and a few yards out, sharks surround the island. Not sure if this is normal shark behavior, there are no books on the island, or bottles for that matter, anything that could be written on, and sealed has long been tossed into the sea, with hopes of getting word out that there were people trapped on this island. So we have food and fresh water, there is a natural spring in the center of the island, and the survivors somewhat broke up into factions.
Interestingly enough, the island used to house a prison. It was only in operation for a short time, probably because not lawbreakers didn’t think it was fair that murderers and rapists and drug sellers were getting sent to a tropical island to serve their sentences. The prison has always been considered haunted, and tours were a part of the Resort’s package. Those who believe we died, live in the prison now. One of the more interesting theories is that the “ghosts” seen in the prison are actually the living and we’re the ghosts. Lucas and I live in a shelter next to the prison, in the shadow of one of its great sheer walls on the beach.
Sadly all the above explains the “normalcy” of the island. There are some really weird things that are on the island. Yes, more weird than prison full of people who think they’re ghosts. There is the eel that turns itself inside out repeatedly, it lives in the ice caves under the main resort complex. You read that correctly, ice caves, on a tropical island. There are the dogs, the resort was pet friendly, who in ten years haven’t even aged, one lives in the warm spot in the ice caves. The ice caves themselves change, so that just because you went down three flights of stairs doesn’t mean you’ll come up three flights to get out. Then there is Filipe who lives in the ice caves, he’s a French Chef who still thinks the resort is still operating. The people who think we’re alive and just for some really odd reason have been forgotten by the real world, still live in the hotel rooms of the resort.
To top the really weirdness are the lobster people. They could be shrimp people, but I’ve always referred to them as the lobster people. Intelligent, bipedal, lobsters live on the far side of the prison. When they first arrived from the ocean they fought us. Eventually a truce was founded and they inhabit their part of the island, we stay on ours. They’ve actually built a wall around their part of the island. The Great Wall of Triangle Island, made from coral.