Caelin looked weaker than before, or was it simply exhaustion from the running and swimming? Gerrard approached Caelin silently, reaching out to support Caelin from collapsing. “Caelin? Can you stand?” Gerrard asked worriedly, his expression racked with guilt.
“I-I think…I need to lay down.” Caelin panted. With Gerrard’s aid, he slowly settled to the sand. He takes a few shallow breaths, “My muscles… they feel so stiff.” Caelin, attempting to shift his torso, grunts in discomfort.
“You sure you’re not just cramping up?”
“I don’t know. I-I’m scared… Our boat… it had someone in it.” Caelin’s eyes widened, “W-We’re not alone here!” He choked at the revelation, “There could be more of them watching us right now! What do they want?” Shivers ran down everyone’s spine. It was a chilling thought. The crew were not the only ones on this island. Even Gerrard felt a chill run down his spine at the idea, then he shifted his gaze to inspect Caelin’s legs. There was a tear in his suit, and tainted, orange-ish blood was already seeping out. Gerrard’s heart sank, he made a grave error to run so carelessly like that.
“Fuck! No–no no no! I’m so sorry Caelin. God… It’s all my fault! It’s all my fault!” Gerrard buried his face into his hands, rubbing his temples to subconsciously soothe his mind. “Someone! Get the medkit!” One member of the crew rushed to rummage through his backpack. The crew already surrounded to protect Caelin, with Silas pressing down on the cut with tears welled in his eyes. After what felt like an hour, the struggling member finally pulled out the medical kit. By the time Silas, Gerrard, and the member moved to clean the wound, it already appeared to be infected for two weeks. It looked as if it was ravaged with gangrene, the bleeding already stopped, and the surrounding blood was caked into an almost gravel-like matter. Caelin’s muscles were not tightening, they were solidifying. Everyone’s faces sank, and Caelin already knew.
“I’m going to die…” He whispered. They all sat in silence, then maniacal laughter boomed, “Ha ha ha ha! I’m going to die!” Caelin’s face contorted into an hysterical expression, then one of hopelessness, “I can’t believe it…what was any of this even for?” His skin was solidifying now, dulling into a stone-like color. Life not leaving the body, rather trapped in the very body it resides in. Caelin was turning into stone, and Gerrard could no longer look at Caelin, as he was silenced into a prison of his own body.
A heavy silence ensued, but tension grew. Perhaps whatever that was watching was satisfied by the crew’s spectacle, or not. Everything about the island became more hostile.
“...we need to call for backup. Silas. C’mon, get the radio.” Silas slowly rose to reach for the radio stored in his bag. He adjusted the dials for a signal, but there was nothing. The fog was getting thicker, too dense for anyone to receive a signal. The crew was trapped. Left to their own devices. This is what becoming heroes had meant.