The sun peered up over the horizon from the path the Oceanic flight 815 survivor Charlie Pace usually walked. It was almost morning. He savored the sound of the ocean waves hitting the rocks; the smell of the various plants and flowers all around; the feel of cool breeze that was quite rare in this place, this Island. He sang the hit song of his rock band back home which seemed to please the infant Aaron Littleton, whom he carried in his Bjorn.
Charlie: "You all everybody. You all everybody. You like that Aaron?"
The baby boy just smiled up at him. He knew that it wasn't that song that the boy liked, but rather the sound of his voice.
Charlie: "Acting like you're stupid people, wearing expensive clothes."
And then, out of nowhere, the baby started crying.
Charlie: "Hey. Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong there, Turniphead? Everyone on this bloody Island's a sodding critic!"
Charlie began to rock the baby back and forth. After about a minute, he calmed down. But just then, he noticed something… everything went silent, like the calm before the storm. He looked around not knowing what to find or even what to expect. Suddenly he saw him, the dark man standing just a few feet away from. He looked no different than that couple of months ago. His eyes still resembling the pit of Hell.
Charlie: "Ethan?"
Ethan: "Hello, Charlie. Long time, no see."
Charlie: "I'm losing it."
Ethan: "You're losing anything, Charlie. It's really me," the dark man said with a smug grin.
Charlie: "This is impossible. I killed you! I BURIED you! YOU'RE DEAD!
Ethan: "Well, I'm back. And I'm here to finish what I started."
His face went pale with fear, as he remembered the last this psychopath had been around him and the he cared about. And then, he said the words that sent shivers up and down Charlie's spine…
Ethan: "Give me Aaron!"