ISLA NUBLAR (So many miles off the coast of Costa Rica)
Owen Grady pulled out of Blue, falling to the ground beside her in a pile of ferns and jungle leaves they'd gathered into a comfy nest. He lay on his back under the starry night sky, barely visible through the thick jungle canopy. He was covered in sweat and grime. Blue, equally worn out from their lengthy night-time love session, laid on her side panting, her deep yellow eyes dilating.
"Oh, girl, that was something else," Owen said, clicking his training clicker.
Blue let out a shallow yelp and clicked her tongue a few times before laying her head down to rest. Owen breathed deeply, thinking back on the events that led him and Blue into such a relationship. He smiled a little.
He noticed the first faint rays of pale orange light cutting through the thick canopy over the ridge a mile beyond the jungle. They must've been up all night!
Blue snored softly, exhausted from the night of hard, inter-species fucking. Owen played over the logistics in his head, barely remembering how they overcame the many obstacles that would come with such an act. His mind drifted, not being able to comprehend how it all happened, just that it happened. It had been hot and heavy and--
The pale orange light creeping over the ridge focused into a bright, white beacon that swung in a wide arch over the valley. The noise of the jungle (near-deafening on a typical night) ground to a halt. Suddenly, the cold night air was still and electric.
Blue sat up, her female instincts on full alert.
"What is it, girl?" Owen asked, putting a protective hand on her neck and staring at the light that now seemed to be approaching. The moment was quite ridiculous if you think about it: Owen, a six-foot-tall human with no natural body armor or formidable weapons in the dino-filled jungle, was trying to protect her, a six-foot-tall, genetically engineered theme park monster with razor-sharp claws, teeth, and enhanced sensory abilities.
Regardless, Blue played the part, not sitting up any further and letting out a low hiss as she tracked the light with her binocular vision. Owen quickly put his clothes on, grabbing his rifle and quietly checking the chamber, using his hand to confirm it was loaded in the darkness that now seemed more profound and more menacing.
The light appeared to be a powerful flashlight beam, arching back and forth as the wielder descended into the valley. There was someone here!
Owen processed this. After the Indominous Breakout and ensuing chaos that lead to the closure of Jurassic World, the only people (to his knowledge) to return to the island were teams of lawyers and InGen grunts. He lead a team himself soon after the incident to attempt to wrangle Blue and the remaining animals who had escaped (a surprising few). But with the failure to capture Blue and the damage caused by the T. Rex, the remaining steps to reopening were put on indefinite hold.
The limited release of information had mostly saved Masrani Corporation's and InGen's reputation. As far as the public knew, the flying dinosaurs broke out due to a helicopter accident that killed Simon Masrani and nothing more. The Indominous Rex, the release of the T. Rex, the nefarious use of the Velociraptors by InGen, the deaths of over twenty Animal Containment Unit employees, and the epic showdown on Main Street that resulted in massive amounts of property damage were utterly unknown to the public. Rumors swirled that Vic Hoskins had died during the incident, but those were mostly in the corporate sector. InGen and Masrani Corp. insulated that information from the public, and as far as the public saw, Hoskins was relieved of his duty because of the incident.
After a couple more expeditions that he was asked to join (but turned down), he learned that lawyers and asset managers had taken stock of the remaining animals (the Indominous Rex took more dinosaur lives than humans) and the functioning parts of the park, they stopped asking Owen to come along and seemed to have abandoned the island as it had been abandoned once before.
Apparently, they'd returned.
Blue stood to her feet but remained low to the ground. She clicked at Owen and let out another low hiss. Owen nodded, and she took off into the jungle with nothing more than a slight rustle of a fern.
The flashlight beam was coming closer. Owen thought, through the muffled silence of the jungle, that he heard a voice. No, two voices. They appeared to be arguing, but he couldn't hear exactly what they were talking about.
Owen slinked off into the brush, giving his and Blue's love nest a good twenty feet or so. He crouched out of sight and leveled the rifle to the spot where it appeared the two figures would come walking by. They had made excellent time coming down from the ridge.
"What is it now?" He whispered to himself.
He thought he felt Blue's presence close and looked around even though he was aware that he wouldn't be able to see her until she was upon him. He grinned and turned back to the flashlight beam. Suddenly, it clicked off. Owen held his breath, raising the rifle in front of him while bringing it back into his shoulder. He strained to adjust to the darkness again. The air was still, and the pulse in his ears threatened to deafen him further.
Chittery-chit-chit-chit!*
Owen snapped his head to one side, expecting to see Blue's reflective eye only inches from him, the smell of fresh kill on her breath, and the intense heat coming off of her muzzle. But she wasn't there. The jungle was still and silent.
Owen let out a low whistle, warbling it near the end. His eyes darted through the darkness, waiting for a reply.
Chit-chit-chittery-chit!*
The clicking and chittering were right next to Owen's head. They were not from Blue and were unlike anything Owen had heard before.
Owen bolted blindly into the jungle, tripping over tree roots, ferns slapping him in the face. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew if Blue has been able to, she would've been right next to him. But she wasn't, and that scared him. He ran into a tree trunk, which threw him completely off balance and sent him tumbling down a hillside. He lost his rifle in the fall, hit every inch of his body on branches, trees, and rocks along the way, and finally blacked out when he smacked into solid, level ground.
When Owen regained consciousness, the pale orange light of dawn was beginning to cut through the trees. It was still dark in the depths of the jungle, but the rays of light were starting to penetrate the canopy along the ridge above him. He was twisted and contorted at the bottom of a gully. He was in immense pain. His body ached all over. For a moment, he wasn't in control of his thoughts. He remembered thinking, "that weird sound last night reminded him of the aliens from Signs." But he couldn't remember the context of that thought at first. He soon came too, and it mattered less and less.
He forced himself to sit up slowly after what felt like hours. The light hadn't changed any, so it couldn't have been hours. It was then that the fog of his blackout began to clear. He felt blood trickling from his head. After feeling along with his skull, he found a large gash and winced in pain.
Blue gurgled and clicked softly above him. She was looking down at him from her perch on a rock. She was low to the rock and on edge. She kept darting her head back and forth, looking to the light of dawn and then back at Owen.
"What is it, Blue?"
The light once again focused into a powerful beam, and the illusion of dawn disappeared. Owen noticed the jungle was silent also, and he could hear the two voices return. They were clearer now, but he still couldn't make our exact words. One voice was older and had a jaunty cadence to it; the other was younger and more nasally.
Blue plucked at Owen's vest with her muzzle. He painfully stood to his feet. Nothing seemed broken; that was lucky. Blue had Owen's rifle in one hand, awkwardly gripped in her spindly, clawed hands.
He grabbed the rifle and checked it for damage. He tried to take a bounding step into the jungle and collapsed in agonizing pain. His ankle was fucked.
"I can't run anymore," he told Blue in a defeated voice. "We gotta face em."
Blue seemed to understand and darted into the bushes to their left as the lights and voices went behind a tree in front of them. Owen raised his rifle, checking to make sure the safety was off. Whenever the flashlight owners came around the trunk of the large tree, they'd be face to face with Owen, laid out on the ground with his rifle leveled at them. He tensed as the light disappeared behind the tree and then all together.
Owen blinked. Goddamnit!
His trigger finger tensed on the trigger. He was ready for anything, or so he thought. A blinding white light appeared on the other side of the tree, a light not of this world, one that was divine in nature and shown right through him with a physical force. He fired his rifle. Someone within the light deflected it. The Ghost of John Hammond appeared through the sheer will of his metaphysical consciousness and spared no expensive shooting fireballs from his hands at the entity within the light. The light conquered the Ghost Of John Hammond with an even brighter, more brilliant flash of energy. Finally, Blue leaped from the bushes next to the tree but was thrown to the ground with an incredible force.
Owen fired his rifle again. The light force ripped the gun from his hand and crumpled it. He held his hand up to the light, expecting the worst.
The light dimmed, and two men appeared before them, still bathed in ethereal light. The man on the left was thin and gangly, older, bearded, and wore black-rimmed glasses. The man on the right was slightly shorter, clean-shaven, and had a big nose and olive skin.
"Who the hell are you?" Owen demanded.
"Well, uh," the older figure gave an open-mouth smile, "I'm God." He opened a hand to the man next to him, who waved sheepishly and didn't maintain eye contact. "And this is my son, uh, Jesus Christ."
"Hi," Jesus said in a nasally, middle-aged voice.
Owen and Blue exchanged an utterly confused look and then stared at God and Jesus as the music crescendoed, and the screen went blank.