@dreams-of-a-lark
Conor couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched a figure emerging from the fog along the shoreline. She took a half step back, watching as they stopped at the edge where the water met the sand. They didn’t say anything. They just stood there. As Conor’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized the person was a man. He was tall and lanky with short hair that hung down a little to frame his face. She tilted her head to the side, but didn’t recognize him as one of the survivors or the castaways. Conor regretted not having a weapon with her now.
She considered running, except that she was mesmerized by the man who stood completely still. She wanted to call out to him and ask if he needed help, but his disturbing stillness kept her from saying anything or even moving an inch. Conor let out a small sigh of relieve as someone came up beside her. “Do you see him too?” she breathed, knowing all too well that the island was known for playing tricks on people. Ghosts, voices, mysterious beasts. The island had it all.
