Second Change

Night enveloped the remnants of a war-torn city. Jacob hid in the crumbling remains of what was once a hospital. He was barely out of high school when he first signed up, but here he was, desperate to stay alive.

He took his breath carefully. Each breath felt like a countdown. Memories of home—lazy afternoons spent smoking with friends, the warmth of his mom's embrace, and his love for his girlfriend Ayla—haunted him. They served as reminders of life he might never return to.

His memories mingled with dread as he peered through gaps in the shattered wall where he saw a squad of enemy soldiers advanced in silence.

He had been quiet for hours— invisible among the debris. But every sound and distant footstep made his already nervous mind more nervous.

Jacob looked at the grenade in his hands. The idea of ending it all by putting a grenade at his mouth flickered through his mind.

But in that darkest moment, a surge of raw determination emerged as he balanced the grenade on his hand. He would die heroically if he were to die, bringing down as many enemy soldiers as possible.

With trembling hands and a heart full of resolve, he decided he would not end his life without fighting. He would fight until his last breath, taking as many enemies with him as fate allowed. He carefully pulled himself out of the debris.

The building seemed to breathe with him as he walked its narrow corridors. With each step, Jacob transformed his fear into purpose.

He saw enemy soldiers enter the building, he shot three in rapid succession.

The enemy was in disarray, and Jacob killed them one by one. Every shot was a blend of regret and resolve.

As the echoes of his machine gunfire reverberated through the corridors, Jacob felt the burden of each life taken. It was as though the souls of his fallen foes pressed against him, mingling with the ghosts of his comrades.

With every shot, the line between survival and self-destruction blurred. In Jacob's final moments, as exhaustion clawed at his body and the adrenaline of combat subsided, Jacob found himself standing in a quiet room lit by the pale glow of the moon through a broken window with enemy corpses strewn around him.

In that silence, he sat on the floor and brought out a picture of him and Ayla before a deafening sound and a blazing light came his way. 

And then, death claimed him.

***

Jacob awoke on a quiet, sandy beach under a morning light. The memories of his past battle echoed in his mind: the light, the deafening sound. He haphazardly touched his body; it was all intact, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He then looked at his dark skin, which looked lighter than his usual darker complexion. He checked all his pockets. He currently wore a brown coverall, which was all wet and sticky. He didn't find anything fancy, only a coin with an engraving of a guy in an astronaut helmet and a small wooden slingshot.

He looked at the sea. The sea around him churned with an odd, rough current that tugged at the shoreline, making it impossible for a ship to leave the island.

As he pushed himself to stand, Jacob noticed something unexpected. His face felt different, and his nose, in particular, was longer than he remembered. Is it even scientifically possible to have a nose this long? He was also skinnier. And he is supposed to have cropped hair, not this long, curly hair. The change startled him, and for a moment, he stood in silence, trying to make sense of his new form and the fact that he was still alive. The shock quickly gave way to a determined calm.

He scanned the area and spotted a broken piece of wood jutting from a rusted metal structure—the remnant of boats that lay half-buried in the sand. He also noticed a lot of human remains in various states of decay. The sight stirred a mix of wonder and unease within him. Was this island a trap left behind by fate?

Shaking off his initial freakout, Jacob set to work. With a few salvaged planks and some sturdy rope from the wreck, he built a modest tent that offered shelter from the wind. The task was simple yet grounding, forcing him to focus on survival in this strange new world.

With his temporary home set, Jacob began exploring the island. Every step felt heavy as he moved through the dense undergrowth and along the rocky shoreline.

The island was too quiet, with only the rustling of leaves and the persistent voice of rough waves hitting the beach. The odd current continued to ripple through the water, its mysterious pull a constant reminder that this place wouldn't allow its captives to leave.

Jacob pressed forward despite the lingering memories of battle and his unnerving reincarnation. Each discovery—whether the weathered remains of a ship or the unusual markings on the trees—pushed him further and deeper into the unknown of his second chance at life.

***

On the third day, Jacob ventured to the island's far side, driven by a need to understand his new environment.

The sun bore down, casting sharp shadows on the barren, rocky terrain. Amidst the dense foliage, he spotted a worn sack, its fabric frayed and weathered by the elements. He approached the sack cautiously, his navy instincts urging vigilance.

As he reached for the sack, a rustling sound caught his attention. He turned sharply, hand instinctively moving to where his sidearm would have been, only to find a stone axe that he had made two days ago.

Emerging from the underbrush was a young woman. Her light purple hair was matted and tangled, yet her eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence. She was pretty, in a mischievous way.

"Looking for something?" she asked, her voice raspy from dehydration but laced with a hint of amusement.

Jacob straightened, assessing her condition. She was thin, her clothes torn and dirty—clearly indicating she'd been stranded longer than he had. "Just exploring," he replied evenly. "Didn't expect to find anyone else here." Jacob put his stone axe back to his back.

She smirked, though it lacked genuine warmth. "Well, surprise. Name's Carina."

"Jacob," he offered, maintaining a cautious stance. "How long have you been here?"

Carina shrugged, glancing at the sack. "Long enough to know that bag won't help you much. It's my thing. Nothing important in there."

Jacob nodded, not entirely trusting her words. "You alone?"

"Why? Do you plan to do naughty stuff to me?" she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly.

When Jacob didn't reply, she asked, "Are you fresh arrival?"

"Something like that," Jacob said, choosing his words carefully. "You found any fresh water around?"

Carina studied him for a moment before responding. "There's a stream north of here. But it's a bit of a trek."

"I can manage," Jacob replied, his tone measured. "Mind showing me?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But let's get one thing straight—I don't trust easily."

"Neither do I," Jacob said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Lead the way."

As they walked, an uneasy silence settled between them, each wary of the other's intentions. Carina's movements were deliberate, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Jacob noted her caution, recognizing a survivor's instinct.

"You got any plans?" Carina asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Plans?"

"To get off this rock," she clarified, casting him a sidelong glance.

"Working on it," Jacob replied. "Figured gathering resources is the first step."

Carina snorted softly. "Resources. Right. Good luck with that."

"You have a better idea?" Jacob challenged.

She stopped, turning to face him sharply. "Look, Long Nose, I've been here longer than I care to remember. There's no easy way off. I tried to build a raft, and every time I went to sea, the stupid waves would put me back; there was no fruit, fish, or anything, nada! This place is making me crazy!"

Carina took a long, shaky breath, closed her eyes, and looked at Jacob again. "But maybe, if we worked together, we could find a way. Two brains were better than one."

Jacob studied her. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, but neither was isolation. "Alright," he said finally. "We work together. But no games."

She raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Their uneasy alliance formed, and they continued toward the stream, each step a test of trust in their shaky alliance.