The complete silence surrounding the grassy expanse would have been a calming presence in another universe. Something to admire whilst it lasted, to soak in and enjoy whilst roasting marshmallows over an open fire. Fire. The word which had before simply functioned as a means of communicating the presence of flame had turned into something much more powerful, much more tragic. A rustling disturbed the serenity of the scene, as a pair of attentive eyes scanned the clearing from a large shrub. Once the figure was satisfied, they emerged from their hiding place and into the light. The boy looked as if he would tower over most, a feature which would fool no-one as to his true kind hearted nature. His pale skin stretched to fit over his massive body, his strength well-hidden beneath a flabby exterior. The boy's mass of blonde, unruly hair was matted to his head and it was apparent that the rest of his body was no stranger to the sweat which glistened on his brow. Heat had risen to his face as the boy tried his hardest to slow his breathing in line with the lull of atmospheric noise that had for the boy just moments before been unbearable. The boy's shaking only increased as he recalled the noises that had pierced his ears just moments prior, her screams filling his head with but one primal instinct: to run. Now that the boy wasn't in immediate danger and his adrenaline had dissipated slightly, the boy could recognise another feeling other than fear: shame. Before he could stop himself, a pitiful sniffle arose from the big guy as his tears began to roll down his face in waves. He recognised that, whilst he could not control it, he could force himself not to bawl as he usually did when this emotional. He knew the consequences. They all did.

Once he had cried so much that his white t-shirt adorned with a maple leaf symbol could no longer hide the boy's vulnerable skin, he wiped his eyes and attempted to gain some control over his rattled, shaken, lost mind. He wiped his hands on his lime cargo pants as he tried to recall what was happening. His name was Owen Burnham. He had signed up for a reality TV show named Total Drama in the hopes of making some friends and having a great time. That goal was torn apart as quickly as Owen's first meal on the island had been when, after being introduced to his fellow castmates for the summer, disaster struck. Ezekiel, a homeschooled prairie kid, had been found on his way to the outhouse to confess. Before he could get any of his thoughts out to the world, his head was severed from his body, followed by his limbs to create a gruesome display. Geoff, the party boy who was almost the same person as Owen bar eating habits, found Ezekiel's head in his cabin. This was all that the remaining 21 campers needed to know that something was off about this island, prompting them to search for an escape. The show's host, Chris McLean, had assured them that all would be fine and that help was on the way before sailing away with his co-host, Chef Hatchet, and the rest of the production crew. Those that were meant to be the responsible ones had irresponsibly left them in the hands of the adult that planned on tearing them all limb from limb. Owen was obviously terrified by the implications of the events that had taken place thus far, leading to him seeking comfort in the way the brickhouse had always done, through other people. Owen attempted to learn more about his fellow teenagers around him with the goal of forming bonds that would allow for both him and the other person to take comfort in the others presence. He very quickly found a place in the good books of the majority of his associates, though there were two in particular that he found himself bonding with the most. One of these people was Noah Mudaliar, a sarcastic bookworm that was pretty much the polar opposite of Owen in every way. The two had unexpectedly formed a decently strong bond in a short time, which made him all the more downcast when he found that Noah was missing from a search party. But Owen was getting ahead of himself.

Izzy Connelly was a wild girl with which you could only be certain of one thing: whatever she did next would be unpredictable. Not only did she seem to handle the deaths of her friends well but she didn't seem to care at all about what was happening to them. However, Owen liked to think that beneath that uncaring exterior, there was a kind girl who wished that they could all escape the island as quickly as possible. Izzy intrigued Owen from the first day. I mean, sure, that initially began because she instantly wanted to know when the campers would eat but it transformed into genuine interest the more he talked to her. Owen wasn't ready to admit it to Izzy but he had developed feelings for her, something that the situation didn't really allow for. Said situation was reinforced when the group suddenly noticed that Lindsay, a blonde girl with a bubbly personality even if her intelligence was not her strong suit was missing. She had begun to bond with the farm girl Beth and the clumsy jock Tyler when the group found her lifeless corpse, eye hanging out of its socket, stick through her brain. It was horrific and Owen wasn't ashamed to admit that he had thrown up at the sight. At this point, there was no denying that the killer remained on the island; it couldn't be anyone on the camera crew, Chris or Chef and that destroyed any semblance of safety that the group had felt. The group all promised each other that they wouldn't split up with each other and would all move forward with a buddy system, to make sure that someone was keeping an eye on everyone. However, that system quickly broke down when the duo of Katie and Sadie went missing the next day. There was no time to grieve for Lindsay when Sadie's body was found after a frantic, traumatised Katie made her way back to the group. With the group more scared than ever, it was not difficult to convince everyone to stay together and, for the next six days, that strategy worked. However, just when everyone was beginning to let their guards down even without having found a way off the island, Justin, the handsome male model who caught my eye from day o-I mean, Justin went missing. We found him with his face torn off so we could see him in a terrifying light. Meanwhile, calm returned to Camp Wawanakwa for a short time until Beth, the farm girl who had just been contributing more after getting over the death of Lindsay, realised that all of the deaths that had happened thus far had happened at night. She thought it was safe to use the confessional in the day and so made her way there alone. We found her with her braces brutally ripped out.

For the next four days, Duncan, the delinquent who had surprisingly stepped up as a kind of leader for the terrified group, had enforced the rule that everyone would stay in one giant group no matter where they had to go. Once the killer realised this, he quickly found a way to combat our strategy for survival. The killer appeared in the middle of the night and began chasing everyone. We quickly scattered, leaving him with the opportunity he needed to choose who he wanted to kill. I was so worried that he would chase me because of me being easy to spot and slower than many but I couldn't hear him. When we all met up, we realised that Tyler had been chased down and his body was torn apart using a rack. His mouth hung open several sizes larger than a mouth should be and his eyes had been mercilessly plucked out by the killer. It was by far the most horrific death I have ever seen, fiction or otherwise and my heart aches thinking about what he must have been thinking in his final moments. When things returned to normal (or as normal as things could be for this group), the rest of us split into two groups when Courtney showed Duncan the fact that staying in one giant group would just put everyone in danger. We were all searching for food and my and Izzy's group did really well with stocking up our dwindling reserves. But when I returned, the other group was missing someone: Noah. I was quick to ask where Noah was and Duncan explained that Noah had been pissing him off, so Duncan forced the others to leave him behind. Cody, the self-proclaimed ladies man and I quickly joined forces to search for Noah, hoping against all hope that we could save my little buddy. But instead my dreams were crushed like Noah's windpipe when Cody found him with a rope around his neck as his body floated in the waves. Cody took Noah's death really hard, and I tried my best to comfort him but we both knew that there were no magic words that could bring Noah back. I knew it was bad for me and I miss him a lot but I couldn't imagine how it was for Cody, who was not so subtly crushing on him. When we got back to the group, everyone was enraged with Duncan and his decisions, even Courtney and Geoff.

Duncan was forced to step down as a leader of the group and Courtney was quick to fill the gap. Under Courtney, the group was so united and ready for anything that the killer was forced to initiate another night of chaos, which led to Harold, the nerd with mad skills, to be close to the killer's iron grip due to experiencing heart palpitations. However, Bridgette, the chill surfer girl with a heart of gold, went back to save Harold and in the process sacrificed herself. Her screams still resounded in Owen's head as he had sprinted away from the scene and now, Owen was traipsing through the forest of Camp Wawanakwa without a clue as to where he was going or where everyone else was. Owen's heart overflowed with shame and grief as he forced himself to accept the loss of another of his friends, wishing that he had had the bravery to turn around and ram the killer into the campfire. But Owen knew as well as anyone where that would have gotten him. As Owen's breath involuntarily sped up at the recollection of so many traumatising memories, he heard a sudden rustling in a bush at the opposite side of the clearing. Suddenly completely aware of his surroundings, Owen adopted his Naturalist personality minus the commentary in order to blend his large frame against a tree. His gut instinct was to call out to figure out who was out there but knowing that a killer with seemingly limitless strength, speed and bloodlust inhabited the same island as them was enough to overpower this particular hunch. A low groan permeated the atmosphere as someone loudly trudged through the undergrowth. Owen's breath stopped completely, knowing that more likely than not a lack of stealth meant that the killer was making his way through the area, perhaps looking for another kill. Owen squeezed his eyes shut as he kept his back firmly to the tree, hoping for the best but knowing the worst couldn't be completely ruled out. This had been a side effect of the island on the jolly giant's psyche, as he had before the massacre always seen the positive spin on many situations. Now, this mentality had been tempered by cruel, harsh reality and the boy had been reluctantly forced to acknowledge that not everything would turn out alright.

Suddenly, a large crash echoed throughout the clearing, followed by a pitiful cry. Owen furrowed his brow as he tried to decipher what he was hearing. His hopes had instantly shot to Bridgette escaping the killer's grasp but the cry sounded much deeper than Owen believed the surfer chick could manage. One of Owen's biggest weaknesses in a situation like this was that he could be too empathetic. Of course, that could be great in keeping a group mentally stable and focused on the task ahead but it would not fare well for an individual specifically when faced with situations in which people were dropping like flies. Bridgette stood as a painful testament to that, the reminder almost being enough to stop the jolly giant from craning his head around the tree to take a peek. Almost. Owen couldn't bear to think that someone was hurt whilst he was standing aside, doing nothing. He hated feeling useless and not being able to help his friends. So, with a noticeable quivering, he moved his body to allow himself a vantage point with which he could take in the whole picture that the area provided. And what a despair inducing picture he was provided. A person was collapsed on the ground as they groaned. They were clearly conscious but seemed to have no strength to go on, having no fear that the killer would happen upon them and end their life. Upon seeing them in distress, Owen was quick to leave his hiding spot and run to their aid. "Geoff!" Owen yelled, forgetting his need to remain hidden in the heat of the moment. Owen quickly realised where he was and repeated the other boy's name in a much more controlled tone. "Geoff…" Owen whispered as he reached the boy, kneeling down to his level.

After a few seconds of shivering, the teen managed to direct his gaze off the cold, unforgiving ground and towards his fellow survivor. Owen noticed Geoff's glazed look and hurriedly followed up on his previous statement. "Geoff, are you okay?" Owen posed the question, worry reflected in both his tone and expression. Geoff simply stared at him as if he was a mindless zombie, expression implying a bland 'What do you think?' Owen quickly realised exactly why Geoff was acting so dead inside. Before Bridgette's likely untimely demise, her and Geoff had been together. They had both promised each other that they would make it off of the island together. Owen was looking at a man who believed he had broken his promise and lost the most important person on the island to him. "Oh Geoff, I am so sorry." Owen shook his head at the injustices going on within this island of death and despair as tears welled anew. There was a slight, almost invisible shift in the eyes of Owen's new companion, a shift from complete emptiness and an inability to process to an understanding that his friend was crying. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Geoff raised one of his hands onto one of Owen's expansive shoulders. Owen, through the rising tide of tears, was glad to see that Geoff was still at least partially attuned to his surroundings. The two allowed the sombre, silent atmosphere to fester in their environment, both too lost to acknowledge anything but their pain. After what could have been minutes or even hours, Owen finally felt it right to break their implicit vow of silence. "Geoff." Owen choked out, his voice breaking due to all of the screaming he had done in the past days. Nothing in Geoff's expression indicated to the man that he had heard Owen's call but Owen continued regardless. "I…I know you're not ready to hear this." Owen acknowledged, wanting nothing more than to be able to say that they were going to go and meet up with Bridgette. "But we really have to move. I don't know where the killer is." Owen observed, hoping for any kind of reaction from Geoff. Both knew the weight of Owen's words, even if Geoff didn't immediately acknowledge them. Owen wanted Geoff to get up, to symbolically move on from this period of grief and so his almost definitely dead girlfriend mere minutes or hours after her death. Deep down, Geoff knew that Owen's suggestion was smart. That at any moment the killer could burst out at the duo and end both of their lives. But the emotion that registered in Geoff's psyche, the first emotion he had felt since Bridgette's death was anger. Burning anger that settled in the pit of his gut and urged for him to curse Owen out for the mere thought of abandoning his girlfriend in favour of survival until his vocal cords couldn't keep up.

Before Geoff could vent and quite possibly get them both killed, Owen noticed the shift in Geoff's expression and quickly attempted to placate him. "I-I'm not saying that we abandon anything! I just mean that Bridgette would want you to get up and keep going!" Owen urged, waving his flabby arms in front of his face to show to Geoff that he meant no harm. But Geoff did not see Owen's words as meaning no harm. Each word cut like a flame setting a different part of his part alight until he got to 'Bridgette'. Geoff's heart took another harsh tear to its surface as his face morphed from an indifference caused by a lack of comprehension of reality to one of an intense glare, which barely began to express the soul-wrenching fury that consumed the typically happy go lucky party guy. "Don't say her name. Ever." Geoff growled, the only reason his aggressiveness was contained being the fact that his body felt too heavy for him to move. Owen shot back from Geoff, both bewildered by this sudden change in his friend's personality and frightened at the prospect of there being two people to watch out for on the island. "S-sorry! I mean it! I just…want to make sure that nothing happens to you." Owen protested, attempting to deescalate the situation. But Geoff wasn't finished. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and glared a hole into the big guy's head. "You're talking about this like it's a game. Like she got eliminated from the gameshow we were supposed to play and not killed on some shitty island in the middle of nowhere!" Geoff yelled, tone escalating. Owen was quick to try to signal that Geoff should keep his voice down but Geoff paid him no heed, shock adorning his features at his own proclamation. "Bridgette's…" Geoff began, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. "No…sh-she can't be…" Geoff continued, his disbelief at his own subconscious confirmation of her girlfriend's passing scaring him more than the killer ever could. Geoff's brief stint of sitting up ended as quickly as it had begun as he collapsed to the floor violently, writhing as his breath began to quicken its pace. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…" Geoff went on and on as his thrashing became increasingly frantic. Owen's concern reached boiling point as he forced himself towards the person he was worried was at his breaking point. "Geoff…" Owen tried, advancing slowly so he didn't end up startling the party animal further. It was almost as if Geoff couldn't see him anymore; his frantic movements made it look as if Geoff was being attacked by something that only he could see. "Geoff!" Owen finally let out, his voice resonant in a way it had not been since the beginning of their tenure on the island. Despite his booming voice, Geoff was still in a world of his own, grappling with intense tremors that racked his body to no end. Knowing he had little time left until Geoff mentally snapped, Owen knew he had to take a risk. With a deep breath, Owen closed his eyes, reached forward and wrapped his arms around Geoff in a firm embrace. Geoff's eyes bugged out as he registered the odd sensation of having his body almost enveloped by the mountainous mass of a teenager. Owen knew that what he was doing was a huge risk but Owen knew from much experience that so long as the person he was hugging wasn't too sticklike, Owen's hugs would not become crushing but were usually quite sought after by those he was close to. They enveloped a person in a way that usually made them feel as if they were safe from the world around them and that everything would be fine. Of course, Owen knew there was no facing away from the reality of the situation, but he couldn't just allow Geoff to spiral completely if he could do something to stop it. Geoff looked to be at his emotional limit. He had frozen in the big guy's grasp and simply stared forward, mouth agape. Geoff felt a scream rising from deep within but before he could give the powerful sensation a stage, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he passed out in the all-encompassing warmth of the kind-hearted giant's hold.