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weirdwritess · 8 months

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𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐌𝐞𝐧

↳ summary: you meet everyone. and they have the pleasure of meeting you

↳ of monsters & men fic masterlist: link

↳ of monsters and men playlist: link

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masterlist!

You were beyond out of place right now.

Donning a flat expression, you sat in the far corner of a rickety plane, journal open and in your lap limply. Various paragraphs and doodles lined the pages; a few having been added since you boarded this death trap. So far no one had commented on it, so you were content to keep scribbling away.

Glancing up and over the cover of your book, you took a moment to properly evaluate the foul smelling plane and its inhabitants—some just as smelly as the aforementioned vehicle. You had been the last to arrive just a few hours ago, give or take. Naturally, everyone had already separated into their own friend groups or were just sitting on their own. Too immersed in themselves, they hadn't noticed you sit down on rock hard seat to embark on the plane ride with them.

Looking to your left, you observed a certain sleeping ginger from last season. Scott, if you remembered correctly. From the little you had watched of him last year, you were kind of glad he was asleep. He didn't look the kind to brush his teeth twice a day, and you're not sure you could handle a cloud of halitosis swimming your way.

With a snort, your lips curled into a slight smile as you remembered how he almost became shark food last time. It had been kind of funny, considering karma and all. In your opinion, anyone who was stupid enough to mess with a mutated shark got what they deserved.

The small noise from the back of your throat seemed to wake the beast, the red head giving a start as he began to shift in his seat.

You watched with a hooded gaze as his eyes snapped open, revealing a pair of beady eyes that looked well-rested. Instead of jumping at the sudden noise so close to his ear, Scott quickly turned his head to meet the gaze of you next to him.

He took a good second to observe you from head to toe—sweatpants and all. In the time it took for him to bring his line of sight back up to your own, he had already concluded that you weren't any threat to him and the million. You were wearing sandals for fucks sake. Not really as intimidating as Heather or Jo's outfits.

"Well hello there," Scott spoke in his nasally voice. "See something you like?" He said, referring to your staring. Your face scrunched up a significant amount at that but dropped after you considered your situation. Making one of the main antagonists from last season upset with you wasn't really the smartest move as the new kid. So with a considerable amount of forced politeness, you stuck your hand out for him to shake.

"Sure let's go with that country boy." You fought the urge to cringe at what he probably thought was a cunning smile before giving him your name.

"Scott." He offered while dropping your hand. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Yeah. I saw bits and pieces of season four. Good strategy by the way. Even if it was a bit scandalous, I have to congratulate you. Must have really put your last two brain cells into overdrive coming up with that."

The insult went right over Scott's head as he inwardly snickered at your choice of words. He didn't think anyone had ever called him scandalous before. A big jerk, evil, and smelly maybe, but never scandalous.

"Aw really?" He responded with a sickeningly sweet voice, batting his eyelashes. "Thanks."

You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a little noise of disgust at that. Once again, Scott missed your obvious disgruntled nature, already moving on to peak into your personal belongings.

"Whatcha writin' there?" He asked. Scott pointed at your lap when you sent him a curious look, eyeing the various bullet points you had made with ink. You were quick to slam your journal closed in his face, nearly taking his finger off in the process.

"None of your business hillbilly."

"Alright alright! Message received newbie." Scott smirked and put his hands up in the air defensively. But a bit of his mischievous nature still poked through. He wondered what was in there. Secrets? Blackmail? You might not pose a threat to him now, but neither had Cameron last season and that string bean had almost won.

"So—" He dragged out the 'o' like a small child, "—what brings you to this hell hole? The money? Fame?" He quizzed you, wanting to know a little bit about you.

"Er, none of those. Although the money would be nice." You answered slowly. "I'm mostly here to help with my resume. I'm trying to get into college for film and all, and I couldn't find any other shows that wanted me on it. Set work or otherwise. Some friends would be cool though. Not a lot back home when you spend all your time applying for jobs to put you on the map."

Scott had stopped listening at college. Mentally eye rolling, he tried not to scoff. School? Friends? Those were the last things on his mind right now. His brain only held room for two things. The million, and his mama's gruel. Oh, how he loved his mama's gruel.

Why the fuck would Chris choose to put someone new in this season? And a season full of former competitors nonetheless.

By the time Scott had turned back to face you, you had already written him off and were staring out the plane's window. Shrugging, he put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes once more, content to get some more shut eye before the torture began.

A couple more minutes passed filled with chatter from other people on the plane. Insults were thrown, small talk made, and pleasantries exchanged. You paid no mind to it, watching the glittering sea below pass by in a blur.

All of a sudden, the plane came to a soft stop. Not as in, they had stopped flying. Now they were merely hovering. You looked around confused. No one else seemed to pay any mind to this. They were still all talking—or in some cases glaring at someone.

You took a moment to peer out the window once more, watching as a familiar island below swerved in and out of vision at a steady pace.

A loud noise diverted your attention from the window. A big, burly man had pried the rusty door to the pilot's cockpit open and stepped out. Chef looked around with a disgusted look on his face. You could almost hear his internal monologue, complaining about young people and how he should get a raise.

“—and here they are now! From Revenge of the Island, say hello to multiple Mike!” A familiar voice said enthusiastically. It was then that Chef stomped over to a boy with spiky hair. You admired him from afar, smart enough to appreciate when someone was attractive. But you waved away any further thought of that, seeing as the only person he had talked to the entire time was a nice looking redhead. Zoey and Mike, you remembered. The fan favorite couple from last season. Nice people. Both good looking.

“Uh, hey Chef! Let's talk about this!” The boy laughed nervously before being picked up. You proceeded to watch with wide eyes as he was kicked off the plane and plummeted to the ocean below.

Chef wasted no time ignoring the screams of the teenager he had just pushed out of a plane, already moving onto the next person with a considerable amount of force. The announcer from below, who you had now identified as the one and only Chris McLean, continued to call out names

“Mike’s friend pushover turned powerhouse, Zoey!” The mentioned girl jumped after Mike in a panic after he said that. After that, it was just you watching from a corner as Chef picked people off one by one depending on whose name Chris called next.

“Athletic non-supporter, Lightning!”

Splash! There went the cocky white-hared boy.

“Bubble Boy brainiac Cameron!”

You frowned a bit at that one. Cameron seemed nice. Well, nice enough to not be deemed a wuss for the rest of his conceivably short social life. Besides, it's not unlike Chris to—

Holy fucking shit what is that.

You looked over in shock to see a feral boy with a balding head and green tinted skin. He bared his teeth and panted, revealing sharp yellow teeth. The boy—is that even a boy?—noticed your stare and turned to face you. With a snarl and a lunge, your face was stopped from being clawed off as Chef snagged the back of his hoodie. The creature looked at you with a violent expression, one could even call it murderous, before squirming and yowling underneath Chef's grip.

“And feral freak show, Ezekiel!” Chris sounded off from below. Gasps could be heard as Chef dropped the mutated canadian from his hoodie. You leaned over the edge of the plane a bit to see a plunger come out of nowhere and grab onto him.

“Ha! Only joking! No way is that guy coming back again!” Chris laughed before having a robot shoot him off to god knows where. You weren't one to openly wish harm on others, but thank fuck that thing was gone.

“I feel like I'm forgetting something." Chris sang, his voice far away.

"Oh yeaah! That's right! All Stars, say hello to your new competitor, the movie enthusiast!” He said loudly, your full name following suit. You could practically feel the confusion coming off your future teammates/opponents in waves, already so excited to take the plunge and meet them. Note the sarcasm.

Holding out a hand to hault Chef—who had been sneaking up behind you—you shoved the journal that you had been clutching into his hands.

"Make sure that gets down safe and you won't have to toss me like a sack of potatoes. Deal?" You offered. It was a stretch, especially considering that Chef most likely enjoyed throwing people off high places.

But you were met with a shrug as he tucked the book under his arm.

"Sure kid. Just hurry up or Chris'll have my head. Or yours." With a little cackle, he walked off, leaving you staring at where he had just been.

Nice guy.

Again. Notice the sarcasm.

"Sign up for the show, they said. You'll have fun, they said."

Next thing you knew, you were falling through open air with a loud yell, holding your nose and preparing for the impact of salt water on skin.

A cold feeling seeped into your veins and straight to your bones as you plunged into the water. In no way, shape, or form were you an adrenaline junkie, but you did understand a little bit why people would do that.

As fish of all different shapes and sizes passed by, you almost failed to notice the squirming figure under you. Almost.

A sharp jab to your calf prompted your gaze to be pulled below, where you saw a struggling figure resting under you. With a start, you realized you must have landed on someone and drug them under. Acting quickly, you grabbed onto their arm and began to swim upwards, hoping that you hadn't done any serious damage. Upon breaking the surface, you immediately swam to shore, dragging them with you. They offered no complaints, and you began to wonder if they even were conscious.

You trudged onto shore and would have collapsed like everyone else if not for the person you had been carrying like luggage. Whirling around, it was revealed to be a coughing and gagging Mike that you had so ceremoniously drowned. You felt your neck heat up with embarrassment as he spit out more and more salt water. Oops.

"Uhm—" You began unsteadily, unsure of what to do now that he seemed to be fine. "—sorry about that dude. Didn't mean to wreck your day."

“It’s al—” Mike paused to hack his lungs out some more, “—right. I wouldn't have signed up for this show if I couldn't handle a little water, right?” He said smiling a little before spiraling into another mini cough attack at the end. His comment made you grin a bit, the most anyone had managed to get out of you so far.

"Yeah, that's fair." You punctuated the end of your sentence by holding your hand out for him to take, hauling him off the crunchy sand. For a moment, your eyes locked with his. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling a bit more, watching as Mike mirrored your expression shyly.

Yeah. You had been right earlier. He was a cute one.

The two of you might have just stayed there forever, staring at each other, if not for Chris’s regrettably loud voice.

“—but the winners get to sleep in an all new, eco-friendly McLean spa hotel complete with butler, hot tub, and 24-hour masseuse!” The host finished his introduction smugly. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at that, dropping Mike's hand and missing the way his smile dipped at that. But really, naming a building after yourself? Come on Chris. The other campers had instead cheered and jumped up and down, happy to have the chance to not sleep in a cruddy cabin, no matter how slim the chance.

“And in honor of your past performances, excluding our new addition—" You glared at Chris for singling you out, not appreciating all the new attention. “—this season's theme will be Heroes versus Villains!” Chris finished excitedly.

“Heather, Ducan, Lightning, Joe, Scott, and Gwen.” He started, using the robot to kick an already bewildered Gwen on the team. “You will now be known as the Villainous Vultures!”

“What?! Why am I on the villians team!” Gwen cried. You had to side with her there. Even if she did kiss Duncan, technically he wasn't Courtney's boyfriend at the time. And Courtney is a raging monster who used to be nice, so not much sympathy for her there. Emphasis on the used to be nice part.

“Because you stole my boyfriend and became the new Heather!” Courtney retorted with a look of rage on her face. Again, not your boyfriend at the time.

“What she said.” Chris cut your thoughts off, agreeing against the protesting Gwen. A bit more of an argument occurred before a happy Duncan said something to Gwen. Clearly he didn't get the reaction he wanted, instead ending up with Gwen slumping over and his own face contorting into a less positive one, leaving you to wonder what had been said.

“Mike, Zoe, Cameron, Sam, Courtney, Lindsay, and Sierra! You're now the Heroic Hamsters!” Chris shouted out, taking the attention off the villians and towards the others. "You too, new kid." He added on with a sadistic laugh.

“Hey, how come I'm on this team? You know literally nothing about me.” You said in a confused, but not necessarily disappointed tone.

“Look, in the five minutes I have known you, you've saved someone's life, apologized about it, and have had proper sense of hygiene! Which is more than I can say for some people.” Chris said, evil eyeing the vultures. Most of them just shrugged with smirks.

“Wait a minute!” Jo said, jumping in on the conversation. “They have eight people to our six! No fair!”

“Since when have you been about fair?” You mumbled sourly, earning a laugh from Mike. Who, at this point, had saddled up next to you. Tossing him an easy grin, you held your hand out for a first bump, Mike was quick to accept it with a gleeful smile.

“I needed the extra seat on the plane for that Ezekial prank,” Chris continued over you and Mike, shrugging. Jo just glared at him until he huffed a breath of defeat.

“Fine!" He said, dragging out the 'e' a generous amount. “You can have the robot,” Chris grumbled, pulling out a remote and pressing the only button on it. You took the moment to observe said robot. It was rusted and old looking. Very poorly designed with lots of scuffs surrounding its metal encasing. And the way it moved was strange. It was much smoother than a hunk of junk like that should be. You wondered where on god's green earth Chris had found it in the show to afford to revamp the robot.

“Thought your robot could talk man.” Scott piped up.

“Aw, the communication chip cracked when I was in the hosgow.” Chris said, waving it off with a smile that didn't seem entirely genuine.

“Was that english?” Lindsay whispered in a loud tone. You just looked at her and shrugged, as clueless as the blonde bimbo for once.

Everyone proceeded to watch as the robot scooted closer and closer to Heather, causing her to snap at the machine and call it a toaster. You just laughed at that.

“Ahem! Anyways," Chris cleared his throat forcefully, annoyed that the attention had been taken off him.

"This year's challenges are all nods to classics from the past. But with harsh new tricks to make this the hardest Total Drama Season, ever!!” He cackled. You stiffened significantly at his words. You had seen most of the previous seasons. If those were pale in comparison to this year, well let's just say you were having second thoughts about the college credit this would earn you.

“Your first challenge is this. Find the key to the spa hotel—"

Well that's not so bad.

“—and in an homage to Total Dramas' first ever challenge, cliff diving into water infested with ravenous sharks!”

Nevermind.

You watched from across the beach as Scott visibly shuddered—normally his smug face replaced with one of mortal terror. Sure, the other campers were scared, but Scott was shaking like a leaf in the wind. Guess Fang left a lasting impression last year.

Chirs then launched into an explanation with a terrifying example playing on a tv of a suffering intern attempting to do the challenge. You got the gist of it. Dive off the cliff, get the key, don't get mauled, repeat until victory. And some weird touch about baby carriages?

“First team to unlock the spa door wins! And someone from team loser will be going home tonight. Meet me at the base of the cliff in 15 minutes, chop-chop!” The host said, clapping his hands before jumping into and driving off in a Jeep with one of his poor interns.

“Shouldn't we change into our swimsuits or something first!” A worried Mike yelled at his retreating back.

“Sorry! No time!” A far away Chris shouted, not sounding sorry at all.

You sighed. This was going to suck.

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By the time everyone had made it to the beginning of the island's monstrous mountain, you were all sweaty and spent. Meanwhile, Chris didn't even look like he had broken a sweat. And where had he gotten that jetpack? More importantly, how in hell was he paying for all of this?

"Fuck you McLean." You gasped for air in between words, hands on your knees as you paused to catch your breath. Chris just chuckled, saying something about having to mute that on national television while you ignored him.

This place was already turning out to be a shit stain on the bed sheet of life, and you had only been here for less than an hour.

It wasn't all bad though. During the run, you had started to insert yourself more and more into the weird ecosystem that was this reality show. You had struck up a conversation with Cameron—Zoey and Mike not far behind. Your previous observations of them had been right. Cameron was scrawny, and definitely nerdy as hell—within the first minute of meeting you he had started to spew out the mathematical odds of you winning—but he was nice, if not a pushover. In fact, he was just as nice as Zoey and Mike, who quickly welcomed you into their little group. You accepted it thankfuly, albeit a little more cautiously than the standard person. At least Zoey seemed a bit less naive than last season. You weren't sure you'd be able to put up more than one weak willed team member for too long. Sorry, Cameron.

And Mike was—well, he was Mike. For someone that you had almost killed no less than five minutes ago, he seemed to find every little joke you made funny. If it were you that he had landed on back there, you would have popped up to the surface cursing him, his mother, and his mother's mother. But the longer you ran side by side with him across the longest fucking beach ever, the smaller that feeling got. What can I say? You've always had a soft spot for outcasts.

“Greetings All Stars!” Chris piped up over the noise of everyone's suffering with a cheery voice. “Here are the carriages!” With a wave of his arm, he gestured to two different colored baby carriages resting on either side of him.

Whilst Chris continued to terrorize the campers with instructions on how to play, you took in your surroundings. You felt as the salty sea breeze skimmed off your face, and listened to the crashing of the waves against the nearby shore. It was a peaceful alternative compared to listening in on Chris. Anything at this point was, though.

“—decide on your carriage drivers. Starting now!”

You broke out of your trance to see both teams scrambling for the position of carriage pushers. For some reason. Well, more like the villains were. Your team was instead politely offering the opportunity to one another.

“How about Mike?” You cut through all the talk with a monotone offer, just ready for someone to decide at this point. Mike's head whipped your way at your words, face contorting into one of pleasant surprise that you once again missed. Everyone else just stared at you expectantly.

“What? He’s smart and has got enough strength to push most anyone on our team. He should do fine.” You shrugged, arms crossed stubbornly in front of your chest. Zoey awwed at your comment happily, only stopping with a nervous giggle when you sent a warning glance her way.

Everyone seemed in favor of it as Mike made his way to grab the cart, only for Courtney to scoff loudly.

“Lindsay will do it!” She grumpily said, pushing the lovable, but dumb blonde into the yellow carriage. You groaned. As nice as Lindsay was, you were pretty sure she didn't know the difference from an apple and an orange. Might as well forfeit the challenge now.

“Alright. Everyone but Jo and Lindsay, up the cliff!”

Grumbling, you looked upwards at the steep cliff you now had to prepare yourself to climb. How fun.

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The sun. You forgot how much you hated the stupid sun. How could one star a gazillion miles away manage to be so hot and yet so annoying? It was probably your fault you were this sweaty, seeing as you wore sweats to a place like this. But still. The sun sucked. It didn't help that certain teammates were being a real pain in the ass either.

"Hurry up!" Courtney snapped at you for the umpteenth time since everyone had begun their trek, her name making it pretty far up your People I Would Like To Punch list in the process.

"I told you. I don't run. Much less more than once a day." That was all you rewarded her griping with. The girl took to letting out a shrill yell of frustration and pointing a finger at you angrily. Clearly she wasn't happy about your attitude. Or lack of one, therefor.

"I hope you like being here! Because I can assure you, if you don't pick up the pace, you won't last much longer!"

You simply took to sticking your tongue out at her when she turned her back again, earning yourself a smooth high five from a passing Duncan.

"Is she always like this?"

"Hah! You have no idea buddy."

Staying true to your lackluster method, you ended up being the last one to reach the top of the cliff, ignoring a seething Courtney with gusto as Chris explained today's challenge for the third time. He really just needed to put a powerpoint together at this point. Keeps it short and to the point.

Walking over, you stopped at the crest of the hill to peer over it with Zoey. You were met with the sight of a grinning shark waving back at you, looking way too hungry for your liking.

"Fang, right?" You asked. Zoey nodded slowly, looking a little greener in the face than normal. Looking at her and then back down at the creature below, you placed a hand on her shoulder with a wince, not really used to comforting people as much as you should be.

"Er, it'll be okay Zoey. You're strong and fast. I think. You'll have no problem doing this challenge." A pause. "Probably."

"Wow." She looked at you blandly, attention no longer on the mutant shark as she cocked her head to the side. "Has anyone told you you're terrible at pep talks?"

"More than you'd believe."

That got a laugh out of her, curing the squirming in your gut that had come as a side effect with the little interaction. Anxiety is a bitch.

"See? Looking normal already." You severed the physical content with a clap to her back, hand retreating into the confines of your pants pocket.

"Better. It's better, already. Not normal." Zoey corrected you with a quirk of her lips, eyeing you with a smile as you pretended to know that.

“Ahem. If you two are done chatting, its challenge time." Chris's disgruntled expression suddenly appeared in front of you and Zoey—courtesy of his jetpack—sending a good amount of smoke directly into both of your eyes. Great. Now you were sweaty and blind.

"Places people!” The bane of your existence clapped, zooming back up into the air and away from you. "Its diving time!” He cackled at the last bit. You shot him a glare before turning to your team, ignoring whatever squabble was going on over on the villians side. You had a feeling you'd have to get used to that.

“One diver per team at a time. The next diver has to wait until their team's carriage returns.” Chris spoke, pulling out a blow horn.

“Ready, set—!” He didn't get to finish his sentence as he pulled the trigger, the fog horn letting out an unearthly sound as the campers covered their ears.

“Yeah! Lightning strikes!" You watched while the white haired boy, Lightning you remembered, took a running leap of the rocky edge. He was quite quick to dive off the cliff, Courtney following close behind screaming her lungs out. Everyone watched as both of them dove down to get a key. It didn't take long for bubbles to reach the surface, everyone eager to see who would come up with a key first.

The faint call of "sha-bingo!" gave you your answer.

Somehow, Lightning ended up in the lead, jumping in the baby carriage with a shiny key. Eventually, Courtney dragged herself out of the water, snapping at Lindsay to get a move on by the looks of it. It was no surprise to you when Courtneys pick for a driver instead responded by lamely looked around, showing no signs of moving anytime soon. You frowned. Lindsay might as well leave the island now, because there was no way they were going to win the challenge. Less shame in it for her overall.

Sierra jumped next, screaming in a cowboy like fashion on the way down. Not much to say on that beyond that the key was a dud.

"Alright. Let's do this." You stepped up as Sierra and Lindsay returned from the spa-hotel, somewhat eager to prove your usefulness as the newest cast member. A quick breath or two made its way out of your mouth as you bounced on the balls of your feet, hyping yourself up for the plunge to be. You flinched at the view of the drop below but squared your shoulders up anyways in preparation to jump. You were only stopped by a jubilant cheer from behind you.

"Yeah! You've got this!" Mike whooped, Cameron and Zoey backing him up with two pairs of thumbs up. A wiry smile crossed your face as you mock saluted them, already beginning to make your way down the cliff's edge. You were a split second too soon for your competitor, not seeing how Gwen tripped and went tumbling down alongside you.

Your three sort-of-friends—and everyone else—watched as you and Gwen splashed into the water, only to come up and immediately be confronted by sharks. You were in the unfortunate position of sitting wide eyed on Fang's head while Gwen floated in the middle of two more of the deadly sea creatures. Before anyone could sink their teeth into someone else, a rock flew out of nowhere and hit Fang in the nose. Both players looked up the lengthy cliff in surprise to see Mike and Zoey yielding rocks of all different sizes.

Sending a (very) thankful wave up in their direction, you wasted no time basking in the absence of the sharks to dive down in search of a key.

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CONFESSIONAL

[Name]

The footage shows you sitting on a filthy looking toilet, following your gaze as you try not to accidentally inhale a stray fly. It takes you a second to get used to the humidity of the outhouse, not liking the way your clothes begin to stick to your skin like glue. Really gross glue. You continue the look of disgust before remembering what you came in there for.

"That was nice of them to help. Zoey and Mike I mean. Day one and I've already found some likable people. I was expecting to come into this riding it all out on my own, but this is much better. I mean, it wouldn't hurt to brush up on some of my people skills after all. At least, that's what I'm told back home."

You toss an awkward look to the camera at that last part.

CONFESSIONAL OVER

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The ride to the hotel was bumpy and rough, only to be filled by the sounds of Lindsay's huffing and puffing.Feeling sorry for her, you did your best to send her an encouraging smile. That fell into a glower pretty quickly when her gag reflex kicked in at the sight of it. Alright, no smiling around her then. The fucker.

Sticking the key that you grabbed into the lock of the spa, you huffed in annoyance at its refusal to move. Damn.

“It's a no go! Back to the beach.” You huffed already racing to the cart. Lindsay just flopped on the ground, causing you to pause.

“Hey? Are you ok?”

She just groaned in response. Looking around momentarily, you decided to put matters into your own hands with a stick and sheer will, using it as a makeshift oar to row you back to the beach. Lindsay trudged on behind you, designer boots occasionally tripping her over a root or a rock. As you neared the sandy quarters, a very beat up Sam came into view. Suddenly, you were feeling very lucky that Mike and Zoey had such good aim.

“Jesus christ dude, what happened?” You questioned as you began to hop out of your ride. Sam muttered some gibberish about keys and sharks before collapsing in the carriage, taking up for your absence. As they disappeared farther and farther away into the forest, you looked up at the cliff to see a terrified Scott holding onto a rock for dear life, Lightning doing his best to pry him off of it. A few words were exchanged, but being at the bottom of the cliff, you couldn't really hear them. Well, Lightning at least. Scott's screams of protest probably were audible an island over.

You squinted as various pairs of arms and legs went flying in the air before the robot that had been standing nearby was pushed off the edge. So distracted by it bashing into rocks on the way down, you didn't even notice Zoey sprinting past you with a key and a determined expression on her face.

All that the campers could see from above the water's surface were a couple of solitary bubbles before a loud explosion rocked everyone to the bone. As scraps of metal flew out of the water, you saw a man's outline through it all. Was that- ?

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Gasps from all around could be heard as a scruffy man emerged from the wreckage with an award winning smile. Alejandro flashed it at the surrounding crowd and camera as he landed on the beach, proceeding to snatch a key up out of thin air.

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CONFESSIONAL

[Name]

You squint at the camera, looking less than pleased while you lean your arms on the top of your legs.

"Yeah. We definitely lost this one."

CONFESSIONAL OVER

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“Welcome to our first ever elimination ceremony of the season! How do you like the new peanut gallery, huh?” The host of the show said.

It was nighttime on the island now. The moon was out, and so were the elimination marshmallows. Sitting on the lumpy excuse for a seat that Chris called this log, you struggled to balance swatting mosquitos and paying attention, really hoping that today had given your teammates enough of a reason not to vote you off.

"Thanks to me, now winners can watch their opponents give someone the boot before heading to the spa hotel for a deluxe dinner!” Chris said, dragging out the last part. Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food. It had been over twelve hours since you had eaten anything decent.

Staring at the flames to the campfire, you relived today. It seemed like forever ago when you had been sitting in the plane instead of meer hours. Night had fallen way too quickly for your liking, and you could only guess if Chef had gotten your journal back down safely with the rest of your stuff. Although, by the end of this ceremony it may not matter at all.

“Before we start, we need one winner to volunteer for a special reward!” Chris said with a smile.

Yeah right. Since when had there ever been a real bonafide reward in the history of this entire show.

“ Ha! Sha-Lightning!” The athletic junkie volunteered, swiftly jumping out of the peanut gallery and running over to Chris with an arrogant smile.

“Great! Your reward is spending the night in exile at Bony Island with all the hungry, wild, animals!!!”

Reward my ass.

“Aw! How is that a reward!” Lightning whined, voicing your thought for you.

“Because, there's a McLean invincibility statue hidden somewhere on Bony Island! Find it, and you're golden!”

“Now he tells us.” Scott said, clear annoyance in his words.

“This year!” Chris said, moving on and pretending to have not heard Scott. “You get to vote by placing an X on one of the eight by tens of the person you want to eliminate! Now—” He said in a more serious tone. “—get voting.”

You were the first to hop in the outhouse house. Inside were pictures of everyone. Shuffling through them, you glanced at all of the faces on your team. Lingering on one a little bit longer than the others.

Swiping a quick red X on the separate picture of Lindsay, you climbed out of the commode and took a seat at the campfire. Surprisingly, it only took about 5 minutes for everyone to get in and out, and for the votes to be counted. Finally, everyone was back on a log—tensions just as high as they had been before. The only humorous part of the night was when Lindsay got out from voting with an X on her face.

“Okay,” Said the raven haired host, now holding a plate of marshmallows in one of his hands “The following people are safe. Cameron, Sierra, Zoe, Mike, and Sam.” He paused to add your name as if an after thought, earning a nasty look from you.

When your marshmallow was finally thrown at you, you just opened your mouth, letting the soft food find its home in your stomach. An impressed look was shot your way from Zoe, to which you responded with a grin full of marshmallow.

“Lindsay! You're on the chopping block for your terrible driving skills. And Courtney, you're on the chopping block for making Lindsay drive.” Chris said, referring to the only two people left without a marshmallow.

It wasn't a surprise to anyone when Courtney was handed the last marshmallow, rounding out the ending of the first episode with a stink. Literally. The elimination process compared to last year was just downright cruel. It wasn't enough that the eliminated had to be flushed down it, but everyone else that watched had the pleasure of getting stuck in the splash zone.

You were really beginning to hate Chris.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

With a grunt, you ruffled the little bit of your hair still drenched with toilet water out while sitting on the darkened steps to your cabin. Face contorted in disgust, you sniffed your clothes curiously, only to become a bit green in the face.

Groaning, you flopped backwards onto your back, running your hands down your face frustratedly.

True to his somewhat nonchalant word, Chef had gotten your prized novel back into your hands safely. It was sitting on your cruddy cabin bed when you walked into the room, proving to be one of the only good parts of your day. Besides not being voted out of course.

You had been quick to swipe your journal up, not wanting anyone to get ahold of it.

You frowned as you thought about it. Shit. This place was already messing with you. But could you really blame yourself with a super stalker teammate like Sierra on the prowl?

Grumbling half heartedly, you made your way over to the confession booth.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

CONFESSIONAL

[Name]

You didn't take long to start talking this time.

"Alright. Day one." You began tersely. "Almost died on a few occasions, and felt like killing someone else the rest of the time. But what can I expect from former convict Mr. McLean"

A pregnant pause filled the room as you considered your next words carefully.

"Fuck. I can already tell this is going to be interesting."

CONFESSIONAL OVER

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