Voted Off The Island – a 200 word story.

John dropped to the ground, a red, ragged hole where his eye used to be. The host lowered his pistol, eyes and hands calm, a hint of a smile on his lips. Suddenly, we were playing a whole other reality show game than the one we had signed up for.

“You voted him off the island, but I’m afraid he’s going to be around for a little while yet. Enjoy.”

He walked away, leaving the rest of the cast shocked, terrified, and suddenly suspicious of every sound, every person. There would be no more alliances, no more tribes, no more friends. There would only be survival.

They stopped delivering food after John died. By the time anyone put two and two together, Liz, Brandon, Adam, and Michael were gone, buried in our makeshift graveyard.

“We’re not supposed to bury them,” Steven said the night Michael died. No one would look at him. We all knew the truth, and hated the fucker for saying it out loud.

The vote to send Steven “off the island” was unanimous. When the torch was extinguished, we all looked at Steven. Desperate. Haunted. Hungry. As the host raised his gun every one of us was salivating.

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Published in: on March 14, 2010 at 3:15 am  Leave a Comment  

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