I do not own Jurassic Park, the movie, and book. Both belong to the late Michael Crichton, God rest his soul.

Incident on Isla Tormenta

Part One

Prologue: Sanchez and the Shadows

The night was still. The wind blew carelessly and rhythmically, the air seemed empty amongst the stars in the sky. The moon bathed all in a dull, incandescent glow. The glow covered the basin of a large valley, exposing every tree and bush in the quiet haven. A cricket chirped, a leaf dropped. Everything was in the right place.

A silhouette of a small shack, nestled neatly between two Royal Poinciana, seemed nearly out of place in the valley. The house was small, nearly a hut in size, and had grey paint peeling with the weight of age. The house cast a shadow grappling with dark claws across the little valley, the moon shining luminously behind it. All was quiet as the wind blew the tall grass back and forth.

Suddenly, from the far north end of the valley, movement aroused on the tree line separating the vast jungle from the valley. A snarl shattered the silence and a shadow shot out from the cover of the trees. It raced towards the house with a blistering pace, soon slowing down to a stop in front of the grey building. Its head, silhouetted by the light, raised upwards and sniffed the air. And with a slight snap of the head, it moved almost liquidly towards the door of the house.

Inside the darkness of the house, a boy slept soundly in his bed. Sanchez was five and was considered to have an "overactive imagination". He laid on his side in the warm room, dreaming up vast worlds as well as new ideas for stories to tell his parents. The parents slept soundly in the room next to his, the husband, Jose Ricardo, with his arm around the wife, Janis. In their cramped room was a painting of the great tiger with glaring eyes of orange hung above their bed. Jose looked to this as a symbolic image of the hunter. He also looked at it as a collection of his fears, so that every time he looked to it, the fears would vanish from his mind.

Sanchez moved around a little in his sleep. A line of sweat covered his brows as the air tightened in his room. Suddenly his eyes popped open and he began breathing in short hard gasps. Another nightmare… He balled his hands into little fists and rubbed his eyes. He could hear the rustling of the wind outside, the soft swaying of the grass, and the chirping of the crickets. Everything seemed normal until a snap from outside killed the crickets. The wind stopped howling and the grass altogether ceased to blow. The world became as nightmarish as Sanchez's dream in that split moment.

Sanchez took his fists off of his eyes and stared round the room. Familiar figures became sinister and opaque. His fear crawled up his throat like a fly from a dead frog and released itself as a whimper. There was another snap, but this time it sounded like the popping of the knuckles. Sanchez suddenly needed to go to the bathroom immediately. But in order to go to the bathroom, he had to rise from his bedroom sanctuary. And out into the nightmare…

Sanchez whimpered again like a sad dog and looked from his bed to the door leading into the hall. It was almost like the outside was calling to him, coaxing him to discover whatever was out there. He turned a little in his bed and darted his eyes across the room. He could've sworn he saw something near his closet, a monster if nothing. By this point Sanchez was about to bolt forth when suddenly lightening flashed from outside, exposing the "monster" in a light beam. It was just the old cat, Perda, chasing some bug.

Sanchez sighed and for a split second he felt like going back to sleep. But suddenly the steady creak of a door opening plunged him deeper into anxiety. His eyes shot to the bedroom door and froze there. Outside, he could hear the steady thump of feet against the ground. Sanchez got up slightly and threw his legs over his bed. Maybe it was just his parents coming to check on him. He jumped off of his bed and tip toed to the door, trying to be as quiet as he could possibly be. And very gently he morphed his ear with the wooden door to listen to all that was outside. The footsteps seemed to be getting louder as whatever was in the house crept closer. And faintly, just barely, the sound of heavy breathing muffled the footstep…

There was a bang and a hiss as Perda knocked over a stack of books by Sanchez's closet. Sanchez jumped and the footsteps stopped. The only sound that fluttered through the air was the rhythmic breathing of whatever anomaly was beyond the door. Sanchez put his hand over his mouth to stop his own breathing. Whatever was outside was now directly in front of Sanchez's door. Sanchez looked down to see its abnormal shadow creeping through the space under the door. Sweat poured from hid forehead. His heart skipped a beat. He froze in the shadow.

Suddenly the door flung open and there, in the doorway, stood the dark figure of his father. "Sanchez, my son? Are you alright?" his voice warmed Sanchez's body. Jose stood there for a moment and then took a step towards his son. "What happened? Are you alright?" Sanchez suddenly broke down into tears and flung himself into his father's arms. "The shadows, and the…"

"It is alright," his father assured him, "I'm sure that you just had a nightmare."

"It was not! The footsteps and the breathing!"

"Are you sure that those were not mine, son?"

"No, they were big like this," Sanchez made a heavy stop with his foot and then another until Jose grabbed him. "Hush now!" he scolded, "Your mother is resting. She is having a difficult time with the baby."

"Father?" Sanchez's tone took a different route, now more serious than afraid, "Are you afraid."

"Afraid? Why would I be afraid?"

"Because I am. I am afraid of the baby."

"Now, now," Jose sat down beside his son on the bed, "the baby is juts another human being. There is nothing to be afraid of."

"I am afraid that you will stop loving me when it comes." Sanchez began to tear up. Jose sighed and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "There is a time," he said, "when we must all face our fears. When change happens, there is nothing you can do to stop it. You must go along with it like a raft caught in the river. Do you understand?"

"I guess so," Sanchez said rubbing his eyes. Jose smiled. "Good. I'm going back to bed now, will you be alright?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Sanchez pulled the covers back up to his eyes and laid down. Jose got up and walked to the door. "Father?" He stopped right as he was exiting and turned around. "Yes son?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." Sanchez smiled and closed his eyes as his father turned off the lights and exited the room, making sure to close the door behind him. Jose walked down the hallway towards his bedroom door, but stopped midway when he heard something knock against the door. He turned around and stared down the dark hallway, and began walking towards the old wooden door that led outside of the house. There was another knock and then, as Jose got closer, the faint sound of breathing could be heard. He made it to the door and pressed one ear to it to listen for anymore noises. Suddenly the door was pushed upon from the outside, causing Jose to jump back several feet. His heart was pounding, but he knew what he must do. He wrapped his shaking hand around the cold doorknob and opened the old wooden door. The slow creek of the hinges scratched at his mind, and the darkness of the night filled his eyes. The warm air from outside blew in, and out in front of Jose stood nothing. He sighed with relief and was about to close the door when something thudded against the ground in front of him. In the darkness he could see a tall, menacing figure just standing there, staring him down. And suddenly, with blaring speed, it lunged forward and knocked Jose to the ground. For a moment he was dazed. Then he felt a sharp sensation in his lower ribcage. He put his hand to his chest to find a warm, flowing liquid and then he felt the wet coating of something slippery. He grabbed it and it slipped through his hands, plopping onto the floor. Then he realized the cold truth that his organs were falling out of him. Dear God…

He couldn't scream, nor could he move, as another sharp pain wrapped around his neck and snapped it like a twig. The door slammed and Janis cried from her room, "Rick?" The intruder locked in on this sound and shot down the hall, flinging itself onto Janis's door and falling into her room. Her ear splitting cry filled the house as she was torn apart just like her husband. The thing then knocked over the lamp stand in the room and dug into its prey. The sounds broke into Sanchez's room, causing him to go into hysterics. He shook all over and tried his best not to cry. The whole house shook with commotion until the creature suddenly stopped its gorging and flew outside an opened window. The house stood as it was when the creature entered, silent and still. The darkness crept back into the rooms and Sanchez whimpered once again. Perda meowed and jumped onto him, but he did not stir. Outside of his room laid the body of his father, and outside the house stood the silhouettes of a group of men. One took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, filling his little space with light. They had observed the events that had taken place that night on a little hill far away from the house. They now watched the creature slowly grace its way across the valley and back into the jungle. "What do we do now?" asked one of the men by the cigarette smoking man.

"Burn the house. Make it look like it was a freak fire accident. If any bodies remain dispose of them into the ocean. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" The man saluted and he called forth four other men and together they marched down towards the house. The cigarette smoking man's eyes never left the house, even when the men started to burn it down. From far away the distant rumbling of a storm sent a flash of light across the valley. And inside of the house Sanchez's face was lit up by the lightening. A tear rolled down his face as the flames bit at his bedroom and eventually broke in.