1 Prologue

My head is spinning. My ear is ringing. Raging flames are everywhere, billowing black smokes into the sky from all the burning wreckages around me.

Holy fucking shit!?

What the hell just happened?

Oh. That's right. I had just fucking crashed an airplane full of passengers onto a deserted island in the middle of nowhere. Not even a good island either. Small and full of trees.

Why the hell did I do something like that? I am not a terrorist even if I do look like one, and sometimes, I liked to dress up like one for fun. Ignore that last part. It was the blood loss talking.

Honestly, I am just an average Joe who rocked up to work each day, flying thousands of people all over the world.

Yup. I am a pilot. A pretty damn good one if I have to say so myself, at least until this little misfortune of mine.

This isn't my fault. I swear it is not, but it will be forever on my record. If – and I have to really stress if – I somehow return to civilization, finding a career will be the least of my trouble once the media have decided to stop chewing me up and plastering my face and my private life all over the internet.

Nobody would hire someone who just straight up murdered 500 or so people.

Like I had said, it was not my intention. I was absolutely sure that those people are not people. I swear they are not. Or do people usually growled and grunted like ravenous monsters, wanting to break into the cockpit and have a go at my brain. I mean literally chew out my awesome brain just like they have had done so to the co-pilot.

All 500 plus of them. Jeeebus!

No body is going to believe me.

Not when I am the fucking survivor in the most horrific crash since like ever.

Shit. Shit. Fucking shit! There are burning bodies everywhere. Fucking double shit!

Still, I would definitely crash the plane again if given a second chance. I prefer to keep my brain intact and go out on my own term in a blaze of glory, thank you very much.

Crashing the plane onto a remote island some hundreds of kilometers off the mainland seems like the best choice at the time. Logical choice too when I was the only one left alive on board. Probably.

Go out with a big bang, I had thought.

And as a hero wannabe, I wasn't about to land an aircraft full of monsters at the nearest airport even if the communication with the traffic control was still working. Prior to my decision to commit suicide, everything was strangely silence on the radio, prompting me to act when the fuel was running low.

Like dangerous low. To the point that I could not risk flying over the ocean. I could not let any of those monsters escape. They might know how to swim. Or crawl on the seafloor.

It was the oddest thing in the world, I fucking swear. There I was, a handful hours ago, really minding my own business in a 12 hours flight when the sun turned blood red.

No. Wait. I actually had blacked out first before that.

If it wasn't for the autopilot, I would be visiting my dear parents much sooner than I had planned, not counting my attempt at suicide.

It would be like 48 years sooner since I was going to live until 69. Still going to aim for that number.

That is a good number.

Joke asides, when I woke up, things gotten weird, like incredible weird. Pretty sure more than half of the passengers were still unconscious when I had started to hear voices in my head. My co-pilot heard the voices too, but he made nothing of it.

The passengers that had already woke up mentioned about the voices as well.

Mass hallucination. Apparently. What the hell was in those lunches? I swear that there is some sort of conspiracy going on with the aviation food industry. Anyway, most the passengers had made nothing of the voices.

At least until everyone else woke up a few minutes later. Just that they didn't wake up as themselves.

No. They did not. And within the span of few minutes or so, everyone who did get ripped apart turned into more monsters. Holy shit. I will never be able to unseen all of that. My co-pilot stupidly left to see whether we were seeing things or not.

He did not make it, obviously.

Luckily, the monsters did not even notice me until the aircraft was dangerously low on fuel, demanding me to land it or crash it somewhere away from civilization. I decided to do the right thing and be one of the victims in one of the worst aviation accidents in history.

That was the plant. Yet somehow, I have survived.

Alright. I know why. I sort of pull the aircraft up at the last minute. I was afraid. Terrified actually. But c'mon, if I had crashed the plane head first, I would be the first to die and that would be it.

I want to live, and I will live damnit.

Now… what?