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Death_Island

"Marooned on Death Island, a group of friends must band together to uncover its sinister secrets and find a way off before it's too late. Will they be able to escape or will they become the Island's latest victims?..."

SCARFace_55 · Kỳ huyễn
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15 Chs

Chapter 12: The Village

Previously...

As they continued their desperate flight, the remnants of Hyun's camp harbored dark intentions, unaware of the alliances forming and the battles being fought across Death Island. The future remained uncertain, each step forward fraught with peril and hope.

Chapter 12: The Village

Jack, Melissa, Tom, and the rest of the group, led by Nia, finally reached the Zulu tribe's village. The village was nestled in a clearing surrounded by the dense jungle. Thatched huts with intricately woven roofs dotted the landscape, and a central bonfire burned brightly, casting a warm glow over the scene. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic beat of drums, creating an atmosphere of vibrant life and community.

The inhabitants of the village, the Zulu people, were striking in their appearance. They were tall, black, and very fit, with well-defined muscles that spoke of a life of hard work and physical activity. Their clothing was a mix of traditional and practical, adorned with beads and feathers that signified their roles and achievements within the tribe.

As the expedition party approached, a group of children playing near the edge of the village were the first to notice them. Their eyes widened in surprise and delight as they recognized Nia. With joyful cries, they ran towards her, wrapping their small arms around her legs and waist in warm hugs. One of the children, eager to spread the news, darted off towards the center of the village, shouting, "Nia is back! Nia is back!"

Almost immediately, the entire village seemed to come alive. People stopped what they were doing and rushed to greet their princess. Men and women alike, their faces alight with joy, gathered around Nia, welcoming her back with open arms and warm smiles. Jack, Melissa, Tom, and the rest of the hunting party watched in awe, amazed by the warmth and unity of the scene unfolding before them.

Nia greeted each of her village members with a smile, exchanging words of comfort and reassurance. The villagers parted as a tall, muscular man approached, flanked by a group of warriors holding spears and shields. His presence commanded respect, and his gaze was both sharp and warm as he looked at Nia.

"Nia," he called out, his deep voice carrying across the clearing.

Nia turned and smiled broadly, stepping forward to embrace the man. "Shaka!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

Tom, observing the scene, felt a flicker of concern but remained silent.

Nia turned to the group and introduced him, "This is my brother, Shaka, prince of the Zulu tribe."

Shaka cast a few glances at Jack's group, his expression unreadable. He then turned his attention back to Nia. "I'm glad you're safe, sister. Father is currently out hunting, but we have prepared huts for our guests."

Shaka then looked at the group and asked, "Among you, who is the one they call Jack?"

Jack stepped forward, his confusion evident. "That's me," he said.

Shaka nodded and gestured for Jack to follow him. "Come with me."

Jack hesitated, glancing at Nia for reassurance. She nodded. "You can trust him," she said softly.

Jack turned to Melissa, Tom, and the others. "I'll be back," he assured them, before following Shaka.

They walked to the edge of the village, where an eerie hut came into view. Its entrance was adorned with animal skulls and bones, and a strange, almost oppressive aura seemed to emanate from it. Shaka stopped at the entrance and gestured for Jack to go inside.

"You must enter," Shaka instructed.

With a deep breath, Jack stepped inside. The interior was dimly lit, the walls lined with animal corpses, bones, and various other objects that gave the place a sinister feel. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and something else, something ancient and powerful.

In the center of the hut sat an old woman, her face partially covered by a veil. Her body was adorned with piercings and tattoos, each one telling a story of her spiritual journey. She looked up as Jack entered, her eyes changing from brown to a piercing white.

"Sit down," she commanded, her voice echoing with authority.

Jack complied, sitting cross-legged before her. The woman began to speak, her voice taking on a rhythmic, almost hypnotic quality. She told Jack about the history of the Zulu tribe, its establishment, its greatest accomplishments, and its most valiant warriors. She spoke of their god, Qamata, and how the tribe had lived in harmony with the island for generations.

"But ten years ago, a fake god took over the island," she said, her voice growing darker. "This false deity brought death and misery, unleashing horrible creatures that decimated our people. Our once-great village was forced to hide in this small corner of the island."

She leaned closer to Jack, her eyes intense. "And then you came. You are one of the fake god's spawns. All of this suffering, all of this horror, is for his amusement."

Jack felt a chill run down his spine as she continued. "But among the spawns, one will rise as a Godslayer. That is you, Jack." She pointed a trembling finger at him. "You are the Godslayer. You will face trials and tribulations, but you must be strong. You will liberate the island."

She handed Jack a necklace, a simple string with a small, carved pendant. "Go, go and slay," she whispered, her voice fading into a chant.

Jack took the necklace and left the hut, his mind racing with the weight of her words.

Meanwhile, at Adrian's camp, life continued as usual. The members of the camp went about their tasks, maintaining the settlement with practiced efficiency. Rez, James, and the rest of the hunting team were out, leaving the camp with minimal defense.

Near the edge of the camp, in the garden, a group of women were busy gathering ingredients for dinner. Sarah, at the back of the group, was picking vegetables when a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth. Pervy, his face twisted with a wicked grin, held a knife to her neck. "Don't make a fuss," he whispered menacingly.

Hyun and the other survivors from his camp emerged from the shadows, laughing at the scene. "Rough day, huh?" Hyun joked, grabbing Sarah's basket and munching on a vegetable. "Let's present this gift to Adrian," he said, a dark gleam in his eyes.

As they dragged Sarah towards the camp, the tension in the air was palpable. The future was uncertain, each step fraught with danger and dark intentions.