Paradise | Chapter 8

The Island’s Secret

The islanders gather under the shade of a large palm tree, their voices barely above a whisper as they speak of an old legend, a tale passed down through generations, that the island is haunted. “Have you heard the old tales? They say the island is haunted,” one islander whispers, his eyes wide with fear. “Yes, I’ve heard. But those are just stories, right?” another responds nervously, glancing around as if expecting a ghost to appear any moment.

Emilio, who has grown up hearing these tales, doesn’t pay much heed to them. He’s heard the stories, the whispers, but he’s always dismissed them as nothing more than folklore. But Palmer, new to the island and its lore, finds himself intrigued. “Haunted, you say? That’s… interesting,” Palmer remarks curiously, his eyes reflecting a mix of skepticism and intrigue. Emilio laughs, shaking his head at Palmer’s reaction. “Oh, those are just old wives’ tales. Don’t let them spook you,” he says, his laughter echoing in the warm evening air.

But as days pass, strange things start happening. Unexplained noises in the middle of the night, fleeting shadows that disappear as soon as you look at them, a constant feeling of being watched. “Did you hear that? It sounded like… a whisper,” Palmer says nervously one night, his eyes darting around the dimly lit room. Emilio, trying to hide his own unease, brushes it off. “It’s probably just the wind. This old resort can be a bit creepy at night,” he replies, though his voice lacks the usual conviction.

Palmer, lying awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The haunting tales of the island, coupled with his confusing feelings for Emilio, leave him with a sense of unease. “What is happening to me? Is it the island… or is it Emilio?” he wonders, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and a strange sense of anticipation.

***

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The views and opinions expressed in this work are solely those of the author.