A/N: Alright, so this is my first attempt to write anything Lost. I tried conveying the creepy omgwhat'sgoingtohappennext feeling you sometimes get when you're watching the show (...er, at least, you sometimes got in season one .) but I'm pretty sure it just came out sounding strange. Oh well.
Thump, Thump
Thump.
Silence. Heavy breath.
Thump.
Snap. You turn around sharply, chest heaving.
Nothing. Emptiness. Silence.
Thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump.
Your foot slips backwards as your eyes widen out of their own accordance.
Whispers.
Oh, no. Run!
Sweat pours down your face in rivulets as you race blindly through the jungle, losing your balance on the occasional rock or root. You throw a glance over your shoulder, still not stopping. A mistake.
You collapse, tumbling, turning, twisting, tearing. As your face buries itself in the ground, you hear it.
Thump. Thump, thump, thump.
Theresa falls up the stairs, Theresa falls down the stairs.
Though your eyes are bulging, frantically darting back and forth, you see nothing out of the ordinary. Well, nothing out of the ordinary rather than the fact that you're on a deserted island inhabited by polar bears and "Others" who kidnap your fellow castaways. Yeah, that's pretty ordinary.
You're just beginning to wonder whether it was all in your head, whether the thumping was just the sound of your over-reactive heart when you hear a horrible screeching sound, not unlike that of a large nail on metal.
The trees rattle with the sound.
Thump goes the woods.
Thump goes your heart.
You scramble to your feet.
Snap go the twigs under your uneven gait.
Whispers.
Thump, thump, thump.
Clang!
Look at what you've done to me.
It'll come back around.
Thump, thump.
Silence.
Thump.
The Island is coming.