AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is just something random that started rattling around in my head while playing Dead Island. May not be my best stuff, but here it is.

Chapter One

Banoi. It was supposed to be paradise. A place to start over, where nobody had heard of him before. But, as always, pain and misery followed, just not of the usual variety.

His name is Andrew Morgan. A man with dissociative identity disorder, he has dealt with it for most of his life, having developed it after witnessing his mother and sister's deaths at the hands of a serial killer. This event caused him to develop, in addition to DID, a very powerful sense of justice.

He had gone to Banoi to forget. A psychologist specializing in hypnotism therapies helped him lock his other 'self' away, with a chain wrapped around his arm.

His escape was working. He was finally letting go of the past. But, then...

Andrew woke with a start, his hotel room in shambles, the sounds of screams and yells filling the hotel. Scrambling off his bed, he pulled his shoes on, instinctively knowing there was trouble. Feeling the familiar tug at the back of his mind, he runs a hand over the chain around his arm, making sure it's secured.

Creeping over to the door, he opens it slowly, peering out into the dark, empty hallway. Seeing no movement, he slides out the door, moving quietly along, looking for the elevator. Finding a locked door, Andrew pushes at it a few times, then sighs and kicks the door, breaking the latch as it swings open.

Making his way further along, he walks out onto a balcony, seeing a group of people heading through the nearby door. Unsure of their intentions, Andrew sneaks along behind them, hiding in the darkened corners when one turns to look behind them.

Following them around a corner, he watches as they climb down into the elevator. Not wanting to be seen, he slides down onto the top, laying flat. As the elevator descends, Andrew quiets his breathing so the whir of the gears drowns it out.

Waiting patiently, he hears the gears whine before giving out, the elevator dropping, forcing him to grip to it tightly to avoid serious injury. Feeling the elevator stop, he hears a voice, but his ears are ringing from the sound of the gears, and he can't make anything out. Then, much to Andrew's despair, the elevator drops more, finally slamming to a halt at the bottom of the shaft.

Waiting for the group to leave, he then drops into the elevator, following after them again, thinking of a way to approach them without arousing suspicions of his intent. Then, Andrew hears a loud roar, followed by numerous growls and snarls, a voice over the intercom screaming for them to run. So he did.

He ran faster than the group, passing right by them, something grabbing his shirt and slinging him to the floor as Andrew passed through a door, then he blacked out.

Andrew came to in a small shack, laying on a bed, several armed people standing around him. "It's awake! Bash it's fucking head in!" Can you understand me? Nod your head. Nod your bloody head!" He nodded slowly, his mind still groggy from the impact with the floor. Seeing the men lower their weapons, he passed out again.

Coming to once more, Andrew slides off the bed, hearing commotion in another room. Following the voices, he sees a man and a woman arguing. Listening to them for a moment, he gathered that the man who had saved him and the group he'd been following, was now outside fighting something off to protect the shack.

Moving to the door, he reached out to push it open, but a man put a hand on his arm. "Are you nuts? Are you really gonna go out there? You need a weapon first, if you are." Andrew looked around, then sighed, picking up a paddle, looking back to the man. "Alright, on three. One, two...fuck it, three!"

Andrew burst outside, seeing several fleshless bodies littering the beach, a growl to his right drawing his attention before a bloody hand sucker-punched him, knocking him into the sand. Climbing to his feet, he sees a man surrounded by...things. Swinging the paddle up, Andrew made relatively quick work of the things with the man's help.

Taking a moment to catch their breath, Andrew and the man survey the area, then look back to one another. "Thanks for the help, mate. Let's get back inside where it's safe." Following behind the man, he scratches his head, unsure of what's going on. Once they get back inside, the man speaks. "My name is Sinamoi. We found you and those four in the hotel. The guy on the radio said you'd be there, and that you're immune to whatever this is. When we found you, we saw the bites, so it looks like he's right."

Andrew takes a seat, scratching his head again. "Um, what exactly is going on?" Sinamoi sighs, rubbing his neck. "Well, near as we can bloody tell, the dead are coming back. Poor bastards who get bit end up like those things outside, if you're not eaten outright." Andrew blinks, looking around the room. "You're serious, aren't you? This is a real thing, right? I'm not going mad?"

Sinamoi shakes his head, then speaks. "Well, if you're going mad, then so is everyone else here." Closing his eyes, Andrew rubs his forehead, the chain rattling slightly. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but...what's up with the chain?" He looks over at the man speaking, recognizing him as Sam B, a one hit wonder rapper. "It keeps something dangerous away."

Thinking for a moment, Andrew stands up. "So, what do we do?" "Well, the guy on the radio said he can help us get out of here, but we need to get to a more secure place. We could go to the lifeguard station, but I left the bloody key in my bungalow." Looking to the four fellow immune, he nods. "We'll go get it." "The hell you say. I'm not risking my ass out there!" Andrew narrows his eyes, grabbing Sam B off the couch, the chain rattling and shaking as he holds Sam B several inches off the floor, a slight change coming over his voice. "We're immune, and these people need help. I don't remember asking what the fuck you think, so shut your mouth, or I'll make sure you keep it shut, you got me?" Sam gives a quiet nod, and Andrew throws him back against the couch, then lets out a violent cough, spitting blood on the floor. "Damn him...he got out for a second...it must be the stress. The chain's not working fully anymore..."

Everyone gives Andrew a strange look, causing him to sigh. "I have dissociative identity disorder, or DID for short. I basically have split personalities. And this chain is supposed to keep the other one locked away, but because of the situation, it's not working all the time."

Rubbing his neck, Sam B just gives Andrew a dirty look. "Let's just go if we're gonna." The others nod, and Sinamoi hands Sam a piece of paper with the bungalow number and location on it, then they head out of the shack.