The Isle the fall of the Phoenix

As the final echoes of Lucian's scream faded into the depths of the sewers, silence fell over 19B once again. The air hung thick with death, and the stench of blood mingled with the sewage below. The Phoenix team, once feared for their strength and precision, was no more—victims of the nightmare lurking beneath the island.

But in the darkness, something stirred.

The Deinosuchus, known to its creator as "Cute Boy," slithered back into the depths, leaving behind only shattered bodies and broken dreams. This creature, far from any ordinary alligator, had been the result of twisted experimentation, Mann's dangerous curiosity taken to its natural, monstrous conclusion. What started as a simple study in pushing the limits of predatory evolution had spiraled into something horrific. Cute Boy was the living embodiment of Mann's obsession—a grotesque fusion of nature and manipulation, one of many perfect predators.

Mann had once cared for it, seen it as a pet. But now, even she trembled at what it had become. In the dim recesses of the island's underbelly, Cute Boy was no longer a mere experiment; it was death incarnate, a hunter that stalked the shadows, driven by instinct and rage.

Mann knew Cute Boy well so she managed to escape, for now. She stole Lucian's radio and backpack, while searching his backpack, she found some notes and photos of him and Misho. 'Did they know each other?' Mann pondered. 'Forget it, I'll try to talk with the others.'

Going back to Misho's group, the Ragtag.

Lena's comm device crackled to life. Elmira was the first to answer. The voice on the other end was faint, distorted, but unmistakable. It was Mann.

"Misho…they're dead. All of them. The Phoenix is gone…Lucian…Brick…" Mann's voice wavered with exhaustion and horror.

The group stopped in their tracks. Misho's face hardened, his eyes narrowing. "What happened?" he demanded.

"They didn't stand a chance," Mann's voice was barely audible, a shell of its former authority. "A monster…an alligator…it killed them all. Lucian…he cursed you before he died."

Misho's stomach dropped. Lucian's words felt like a dagger twisting in his chest. He turned away from the others for a moment, regaining his composure.

"We have to keep moving," Lena urged, though her voice was filled with the same dread the others felt. "The Phoenix team was our best shot at clearing a path."

"I don't understand," Elmira said, her face pale. "Lucian…why would he curse you? What haven't you told us, Misho?"

Misho turned back, his expression unreadable. He could feel the weight of their stares, suspicion growing in their eyes. "I don't know why he said that," he lied, though his mind raced with memories of his grandfather's research, the symbols they had found, the experiments that had gone too far.

Lena looked at him for a long moment, her gaze cold. "Let's hope you're telling the truth," she said, her tone low and dangerous. "Because if you're keeping secrets, Misho, more of us are going to die."

Misho didn't looked back and continued forward. Lena suspicions grew, but there was nothing she could do. For now. 

The group pressed on through the dense jungle, the oppressive atmosphere of the island making every step feel heavier. The sun had long since disappeared behind thick clouds, leaving the world around them in a dull, suffocating twilight. As they moved, the only sounds were their own labored breathing and the occasional rustle of foliage from unseen creatures.

Elmira, walking beside Misho, shot him a worried glance. "We're getting close to the second bunker, right?" he asked, his voice tense.

Misho nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. Lucian's curse echoed in his head, intertwining with memories he had tried to bury for years. His grandfather's research. The symbols. The experiments. The island was far more than just a research outpost—it was a prison for something ancient, something that shouldn't have been awakened, something that as the uncle of its creation, he should punish.

They trudged on for what felt like hours, the jungle growing denser and darker. The foliage seemed to close in around them, like the island itself was alive, guiding their path. Every now and then, Lena would glance at Misho, her suspicions deepening with each step they took.

Eventually, they reached a clearing. In the middle of it stood a crumbling stone structure, half-buried in vines and moss. It was the entrance to the second bunker. The one Tala should have been at. Misho stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He had expected this moment, but not like this. Not with Tala's corpse fresh in his mind and Lucian's dying words clawing at his conscience.

Lena moved ahead of the group and signaled for them to stop. "We'll check inside first. Could be booby-trapped," she muttered. Her eyes briefly flicked to Misho, and he could feel her unspoken accusations hanging in the air. "There is no such thing as a booby-trap in the island, I'm no ancient guy." Misho spoke with himself, while imitating Lena's voice.

The team spread out, cautiously approaching the entrance. Elmira and Cay kept their weapons trained on the shadows surrounding them, alert for any sign of movement. Mann's voice crackled through their comms again, faint but urgent.

"Misho… something's not right. The creatures… they're getting more aggressive. It's like they know we're coming."

Misho's grip tightened on his rifle. He had sensed it too. The island wasn't just a danger zone—it was waking up, and it was angry. "Just keep moving," Misho said into the comm, his voice betraying no emotion. "We'll meet up soon." Lena shot him another sharp look but said nothing as she motioned toward the bunker. Elmira moved to the door, checking for traps, while Gus, Cay, "Fiery" and "Justice" covered her. After a tense moment, Elmira nodded. "Clear."

They stepped inside, the musty smell of rot and decay greeting them like a punch in the face. The bunker was old—older than the others, judging by the erosion of the stone walls and the faded symbols carved into the doorway. Symbols Misho recognized. Symbols from his grandfather's notes.

Lena's voice cut through the silence. "Elmira, you take point. Misho, you're with me. I don't trust what's in here—or what's following us."

They moved deeper into the bunker, the narrow corridors closing in around them. Water dripped from the ceiling, echoing eerily in the enclosed space. The farther they went, the more unsettling the environment became. The walls were marked with crude carvings, some of them faded and ancient, others fresh and hasty—as if someone had been here recently.

Misho's stomach turned as they passed one particularly grotesque drawing. It depicted a creature—one that resembled the alligator they had been warned about, but twisted into something even more monstrous. It had dozens of eyes and limbs that didn't belong to any living thing. Misho quickly looked away, his pulse racing. "Keep moving," Lena ordered, her voice cold and sharp.

They pushed forward until the tunnel opened into a larger room. This one was filled with old equipment—rusted, broken machines, and tables covered in papers and research notes. In the center of the room was a large, cylindrical tank filled with murky, greenish liquid. Floating inside was something large, something vaguely human.

Elmira took a step back, her hand trembling. "What the hell is that?" she whispered.

Misho didn't answer. His eyes were locked on the tank, memories flooding back—his grandfather's obsession with immortality, with fusing human DNA with the creatures that roamed the island. This was one of his grandfather's creations.

Before anyone could react, the thing in the tank twitched. Then, with a shuddering gasp, its eyes opened.

Lena raised her weapon. "What the hell—?"

The creature inside the tank thrashed, slamming its body against the glass. Cracks spread through the tank like spiderwebs, and within seconds, the glass shattered. The liquid gushed out, flooding the room. The creature tumbled to the floor, its body convulsing as it tried to stand on unfamiliar legs.

It let out a low, guttural growl, its eyes locking onto them.

"Open fire!" Lena shouted.

In an instant, it killed Fiery and Justice, their screams swallowed by the chaos as the creature tore into them with ferocious efficiency. Blood sprayed across the ground, darkening the earth as panic gripped the remaining members of the Ragtag.

"Gus! No!" Lena shouted, her heart racing as she watched her teammate fall.

Gus, driven by a surge of adrenaline and desperation, lunged forward, determined to save his comrades. He threw caution to the wind, completely forgetting the existence of his weapon as he grappled with the human-looking beast. It was a futile struggle; the creature opened its massive mouth wide, clamping down on Gus's neck with a sickening crunch.

Lena and Elmira were paralyzed and didn't do anything, terror rendering them motionless as the horror unfolded before their eyes. 

Misho's instincts kicked in. He grabbed his gun and aimed with deadly precision. He fired eight shots in rapid succession, each bullet finding its mark, tearing into the creature's flesh. Breathless and shaken, Misho stood over the fallen beast, heart pounding in his chest. But the victory felt hollow as he surveyed the carnage around him. Fiery and Justice lay still, and Gus's lifeless body slumped against the wall, a haunting reminder of the danger they faced. "We need to regroup," Misho urged, trying to steady his voice. "We can't stay here." Lena nodded, her face pale but determined. "What about the others? We have to find them."

"There's no time!" Misho insisted, glancing back toward the shadows, aware that more threats lurked just beyond their sight. "We need to move now, before it brings more of its kind."

"This is not more about rescuing those people," Misho cursed, his eyes fixed on the wall. 

Elmira swallowed hard, wiping tears from her eyes. "Right. Let's go."

They turned away from the horror behind them, pushing forward into the thick underbrush. The weight of their losses pressed heavily upon them, but they had to stay focused. There was still a chance to find Mann, to regroup with whoever remained, but the island's curse loomed large, and the air buzzed with a sense of impending doom.

As they forged deeper into the heart of the island, Misho couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, hunted. Each rustle of the leaves felt like a prelude to another attack, another loss. But they pressed on, clinging to the hope that somehow, they could still escape the nightmare that surrounded them.