Hell in Paradise

CHAPTER 1 :The Awakening

The sun rose lazily over the horizon, spilling golden light across the turquoise waves that kissed the secluded island’s white sands. For anyone else, it would have been the perfect paradise—the kind of place people dreamed about, Instagrammed obsessively, and complained about in the most pretentious ways once they left. But for this particular group of tourists, something about the island already felt… off.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" muttered Lester, adjusting his oversized sunglasses and scratching his sunburn-prone nose. "It looks… deserted."

Beside him, Marissa, who insisted on documenting every moment for her blog ‘Exotic Escapes with Marissa’, laughed.

"Relax, Lester. That’s the point! Who wants crowded beaches anyway? This is supposed to be exclusive, off-the-grid, untouched… like, you know, paradise."

"Yeah, untouched… by humans," Lester said, squinting at the palm trees swaying in the wind.

“This is it! This is the place!” Marissa exclaimed happily. She checked the photos on her camera again, a wide grin plastered across her face.

“This is Paradise Island. Even the name sounds heavenly,” Marissa laughed as she looked around.

Tanya clutched her camera.

“Paradise Island? Cute. So… are we talking luxury resort, or more like Robinson Crusoe style?”

“Both! You’ll see,” Marissa said with a wink.

“Hey!” Ben panted, nearly hunched over under the weight of a backpack that looked taller than him.

“Maybe you guys want to help carry some stuff? There’s still a lot back there,” he snapped between breaths.

“Wow, Ben, why are you so grumpy?” Tanya teased. “What, are you on your period?”

The three burst into laughter while Ben shot them a deadly glare.

“Don’t tease him, Tanya,” Lester added. “He might sit on you, and you’ll meet your ancestors immediately.”

The laughter grew louder.

“Asshole,” Ben muttered under his breath before waddling away, swaying side to side because of his weight.

The three headed back to the boat to get the rest of the supplies. There, they found Simon and Dr. Cho pulling the boat farther onto the sand.

“Hey—catch this!” Yoo Jin tossed a small styrofoam box filled with food at Lester. It hit him square in the face.

“Ow! You’re really violent, Yoo Jin,” Lester complained, rubbing his cheek.

“Are you trying to ruin my handsome face?”

“Handsome?” Yoo Jin scoffed. “Which part?”

She rolled her eyes and walked ahead.

“Ouch—real talk hurts,” Tanya laughed as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

“What is wrong with you people?” Lester said dramatically.

“You’re so harsh. You’re hurting my feelings.”

He clutched his chest like he’d been stabbed.

“Let’s go,” Simon said in a deep voice, tossing his hoodie at Lester’s face.

“I’m starving,” Simon added as he walked off. Dr. Cho followed, even giving Lester a wink.

The two women laughed as they walked ahead, leaving Lester behind, fuming.

“Just because you’re macho doesn’t mean you’re handsome!” Lester shouted before stomping after them.

The group disembarked. There were seven in total: Lester Cruz, a lame computer technician whose mind worked faster than his failing body, Marissa Vale, a lifestyle blogger obsessed with recording moments that were never meant to be preserved yet clueless about even the simplest thing, like the feel of a stream in a pool or river, Tanya Montreal, a stand-up comedian who grew up performing in small bars and late night gigs, using humor as both weapon and a shield- because silence, to her, was more terrifying than laughter. Ben Ramirez, a heavyset kitchen worker whose loud presence felt wrong in a place that demanded silence, Simon Reed, an ex-military man, whose rigid posture and cold vigilance betrayed a life shaped by violence and survival, Han Yoo Jin, Korean woman who raised in the Philippines, a forensic archivist whose accent betrayed her upbringing more than her blood, and whose familiarity with death felt disturbingly intimate and Dr. Arthur Cho, a middle-aged scientist who had insisted on this “research getaway.” His research was conveniently vague, but everyone assumed it involved collecting sand samples or perhaps counting birds.

As they walked toward the island, the air was thick with the scent of salt, flowers, and something… else. Something slightly metallic.

"Probably just the soil," Dr. Cho said dismissively, brushing at his beige safari hat.

"Volcanic islands tend to have iron-rich earth. Nothing to worry about."

"Sure," Lester muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced.

Marissa immediately began snapping photos.

"This is perfect for my followers! They’re going to die when they see this. Look at that infinity pool!"

Everyone looked as Marissa squealed, pointing at a moss-covered stream that trickled lazily over the stones.

“Infinity pool, my ass,” Mr. Cho hissed and continued walking.

Yoo Jin muttered under her breath,

“That’s… just a stream, Marissa.”

Tanya snorted, covering her mouth.

“Infinity pool huh? Yeah. Sure…until you fall and break your neck.

Simon walked closer,“ Stay on the safe stones. One misstep and you're gone.”

The group continued walking deeper into the island.

The path was narrow, barely visible beneath layers of fallen leaves and damp soil. Tall trees loomed over them, their branches tangled together as if deliberately blocking the sunlight. What little light managed to slip through painted uneven shadows on the ground, making every step feel uncertain. The air was thick—humid, heavy, and strangely still. No breeze. No rustling leaves. Just the sound of their footsteps and the faint crack of twigs snapping under their shoes. They had been walking for almost an hour now.

Suddenly, a loud flutter echoed above them.

A large group of birds burst out from the trees, flying wildly into the sky. Their cries were sharp and frantic, as if they were fleeing from something unseen. The sound sent chills down everyone’s spine.

Yoo Jin stopped walking.

“There’s something strange about this place… I can’t explain it, but I feel it—something is wrong,” Yoo Jin said breathlessly before sitting down on a nearby rock.

“Wrong? How wrong?” Lester asked as he sat beside her, grabbing his water bottle and taking a long drink.

“This place is weird. It’s too quiet for an island. All the birds are flying away like they sensed something coming—like a disaster or something,” Yoo Jin continued, her eyes scanning the forest. Another group of birds flew overhead, their cries loud and unsettling.

“Mmm… maybe there’s a lion or a tiger here? That’s why the birds got scared and flew away?” Marissa said hesitantly, waving her hands as she spoke.

“Maybe,” Tanya agreed.

“Mmm… maybe,” Ben echoed, his mouth still full of bread.

“No. That’s not it,” Dr. Cho said while wiping his glasses.

“I don’t know what it is, but… I feel it too. Something’s wrong here,” he added before putting his glasses back on.

“Oh my God… what if there are cannibals here?” Tanya suddenly blurted out.

“What if they catch us and kill us one by one? And then—and then—maybe they’ll roast Ben because he’s fat—”

She didn’t get to finish.

SMACK.

Marissa smacked Tanya hard on the back of the head.

“Cut the bullshit, Tanya. You’re so overdramatic,” Marissa snapped, glaring at her.

Ben frowned.

“Hey… why am I always the one being roasted? Literally and figuratively?”

Marissa crossed her arms, clearly annoyed that everyone was suddenly acting like they were in a horror movie.

“Okay, before anyone panics again,” she said, breaking the quiet, “let me remind you why we’re even here in the first place.”

Everyone turned to her.

“I found this island from a post,” Marissa continued.

“Some travel blogger posted about it months ago. No exact location, just a vague description. They called it a ‘hidden paradise untouched by tourists.’ White sand, clear water, peaceful vibes. No resorts, no people.”

“Very convincing,” Lester muttered.

“I did my research,” Marissa shot back.

“The post had pictures—sunsets, camping setups, crystal-clear sea. The comments were full of people asking where it was, but the blogger said it was too remote and dangerous for casual tourists. That’s why it stayed unknown.”

“So basically,” Ben said, “we trusted a random post on the internet.”

“Yes,” Marissa replied confidently.

Dr. Cho sighed.

“That explains a lot.”

They continued walking, this time more carefully, their eyes scanning for any sign of a clearing. Then Simon stopped. He raised one hand, signaling them to halt.

“This,” he said calmly, looking around, “is good.”

They followed his gaze.

Ahead of them was a wide clearing—flat ground surrounded by tall trees, but not too close. The soil was firm, dry, and slightly elevated. Fallen leaves formed a natural layer on the ground, and there were no large rocks or roots sticking out.

“This place is perfect,” Yoo Jin said softly, standing up straighter.

“It’s far enough from the shoreline,” Simon added, “but not too deep into the forest.”

Ben glanced toward the distant sound of waves.

“Why not just build near the sea? At least we’d have a view.”

“No,” Simon said immediately.

“Absolutely not,” Dr. Cho agreed.

Marissa rolled her eyes.

“Fine, explain.”

Simon crouched down and pressed his hand onto the soil.

“Building near the sea is risky. High tides can reach farther than you expect. One strong wave, one sudden storm, and your tent is gone.”

“And,” Yoo Jin said quietly, “we’d be completely exposed. No cover. Anyone—or anything—could see us from far away.”

Ben blinked.

“…Okay wow. Suddenly the forest sounds safer.”

Marissa sighed but nodded.

“Fine. We build here.”

They dropped their bags and began setting up the tents. The mood lightened slightly as they worked—stakes were hammered, ropes tangled, and Ben somehow managed to trip over nothing at all.

Later that night

The night on Paradise Island was deceivingly serene. The sand, smooth and white, glimmered under the moonlight, hiding the jagged roots and jagged rocks beneath. It should have been paradise. It should have been calm. But for Dr. Cho, it felt like something was pressing against his chest, invisible and oppressive.

He crouched by the dying bonfire, scribbling furiously into his leather-bound journal. His pen scratched across the pages, sketches of trees, strange footprints, and notes about the island’s oddities appearing in frantic loops.

“No… it’s not just an island. Something’s wrong here,” he muttered.

Yoo Jin, standing behind him, shifted uneasily, her eyes scanning the treeline.

Yoo Jin sighed.

“I knew it. That feeling in my chest—it’s like the island knows we’re here.”

Marissa, perched on a rock with her camera swinging from her neck, tilted it toward the forest.

“ Sounds like you’ve been reading too many horror stories,” she said nervously, her fingers tightening on the shutter.

“But… if you’re right, this is going to be the story of the century!”

Marissa’s words barely settled before Ben snorted.

“Story of the century? Please. If anything eats me, make sure you get my good angle,” he said, striking a ridiculous pose.

Tanya rolled her eyes.

“Wow. Brave. Truly. National hero.”

Lester chuckled.

“Relax. Worst case, we die. Best case, Marissa gets likes.”

“Hey! Likes are important,” Marissa protested.

Simon shook his head slowly. “You people joke too much.”

As if on cue, Yoo Jin took a step back to steady herself—and slipped.

“Ah—!”

Her foot landed on something sharp hidden beneath the sand. She stumbled, dropping to one knee.

“Ow—what the—”

She lifted her leg.

Blood.

Not a lot, but enough to make the red stand out against her pale skin.

“Okay, nope, the island is officially cursed.” Ben said instantly.

“It’s just a cut,” Yoo Jin said, trying to sound calm, though her face had gone pale.

Dr. Cho was already there, kneeling. He pressed cloth against the wound.

“See? Even the ground here bites.”

Marissa swallowed. “That’s… comforting.”

Then

RUMBLE.

The ground shuddered.

At first it felt like dizziness, like the world tilting. Then the sand began to vibrate, rippling outward in small waves.

“What the hell was that?” Lester shouted.

Another violent tremor hit.

Trees shook. Birds screamed as they erupted from the jungle all at once. The bonfire collapsed, embers scattering across the sand.

“Earthquake?!” Tanya screamed.

“No,” Simon said sharply. “This isn’t tectonic.”

The ground beneath them heaved—as if something massive had turned in its sleep. A deep growl echoed from underground. Low. Wet. Alive.

Then another sound followed—snarling, layered, distorted, like several throats trying to speak at once.

Yoo Jin froze.

“That’s not… that’s not an animal.”

The sand near the jungle edge cracked open, a jagged line tearing through the earth before stopping abruptly—like whatever was beneath hadn’t fully risen yet.

Then silence.

No tremors

No sound.

Just the smell of disturbed earth and fear.

Far across the island, deep within the jungle, an old man stiffened. His eyes flew open as the ground beneath his hut quivered.

“No…” he whispered.

He grabbed a worn staff and ran, feet bare, moving faster than any man his age should. Branches snapped as he pushed through the undergrowth, breath ragged, heart pounding.

He reached a clearing.

A place of stones arranged in circles. Carvings shattered. Totems broken. The ground at the center collapsed inward, as if something had forced its way upward before retreating.

The ritual site was in chaos.

The old man fell to his knees.

Tears streamed down his face as he clutched the dirt with trembling hands.

“No… no, no,” he cried, voice breaking.

“That is not it. It cannot be.”

He looked at the ground in horror.

“They should not be awakened.”

Not now.

Not ever.