The Lost Panacea [ ✓ ]

Chapter One: The Shimmering Deathwisher

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Day 1 -·- 6:15PM (Twilight)

Location: Isle of Eye

Mission: Operation Lost Panacea

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What could be better than a great adventure?

A greater adventure than the already great adventure!

In the depth of a thick jungle on an island inside an island (called the Isle of Eye because of its striking resemblance to an eye from a birdeye view) I and a group of four other adventurers waded through an overgrown path in a single file.

The jungle was a brilliant plethora of colours, ranging from that of an iridiscent parrot, to a fluttering milky-white and black emperor moth, to a crimson and black poison dart frog, to a green chameleon on a branch, another green macaw, leafy green plants, and so much greenery.

Every now and then, as I kept slashing with my katana, Tracy would shriek behind whenever a thorny bush pricked her smooth leg or a large bug hugged her tanned arm

"There was never a path here, Prof. Neither was there any soul who had lived here." I spat when I figured I was literally slashing our way through the thickets of bushes, making us the original pioneers of this unexplored, uncharted and uninhabited part of the island.

But Professor SJ Gallagher wasn't listening or ready to agree with me. The wrinkly old man was the most overly enthusiastic, learned adventurer and experienced explorer I've ever come across on our dear pale blue dot.

Despite that, I have never had a good feeling about him. Or more accurately, being around him. Those intelligent pewter eyes remind one of a gloomy gray day whereby it's going to rain all day.

He used to work as an interim anthropobiologist in the national museum. "Used to" being the operative words here. I don't know why he quit but there was a rumour about a missing artefact and he was the lead suspect.

I don't like gossips.

Presently, the Prof supply us with detailed facts about anything anthropologic, biologic and anything -logic, which brought about his moniker; Prof.

He was saying, with a large, musty book in hand, "Five hundred thousand years ago," he adjusted his askew spectacles so that it sat perched on the bridge of his nose, "the Wabamasa tribes thrived here—"

"Wa-what?" interjected Lucia, accidentally smearing ink on her parchment in the process.

As we walked, she usually stopped here and now to chart the jungle every twenty minutes. We took advantage of the time to rest in the humid heat of the jungle. But sometimes when she's not exhausted, she can chart–walk at the same time, like she's doing now.

She was a professional cartographer for the State Forestry Agency until her premature retirement due to reasons that are, Not by any means your business. Thank you. That placed Lucia as our Mapmaker.

"They built houses in trees and fought a beast called the Moon Phantom," continued Prof as though he were never interrupted. "This beast is a shadow that cannot be harmed by anyone or anything. It is utterly invincible and only appears during a full moon."

"Ahh, guys. Bad news. Guess what today is?" gasped Finn. He was our astronomer. Astro, yeah, that's his moniker. Studied and acquired a Bachelor of Science degree in Astronomy. Then he quit.

"School's shit!" That was what he told me when I asked. Finn was quite a whiz at mathematics. He had an incredible ability to keep accurate records of impossibilities an average mathematician would not. For instance, when the lunar eclipse will going to occur in the next fifty years and its relation to the one that was bound to happen this year.

"What's today?" Tracy asked sharply. She was the only tourist amongst us. She had her head high in the clouds. A dreamer if you ask me. To her, this was supposed to be fun. Just sight the greens, see the waterfalls and make friends with friendly dinosaurs here.

Like there was going to be a single friendly animal that'd welcome us in this unforgiving jungle. That makes Tracy utterly useless, don't you see? We seldom call her the Sightseer.

"Today's a full moon," a worried Finn blurted out. Tracy shrieked. SJ Gallagher chuckled. I buhahaed. And Craig, well he does what he does.

"Wicked, Prof. Check out this beauty," said Craig. X-Shot was his sobriquet. Also a hacker, sometimes inept and sometimes adept but professionally an excellent cameraman. Although, most of the things he do comes with his mood swings. "I wish I never lost my camera at sea."

He took some pictures of the bioluminescent flower growing on the trunk of a withered tree with his iPhone. Then he reached out to touch the plant.

"Stop!" warned SJ Gallagher as he turned around. "If you want to see tomorrow." He added dangerously.

Craig's hand froze. But he was already too late. He had touched the tip of a petal. Just the tip. "Uhh, did you say something about seeing tomorrow?"

"That's the Shimmering Deathwisher. Actually, it is a hybrid between a clover and a lotus. Blooms, dies and resurrects when its host is green again. Exploiting things, if you ask me. This rare, parasitic plant is so lethal that a single touch—"

Prof never did finish what he was going to say. Like a poisoned deer, Craig dropped to the bed of bushes. Dead.

His exposed skin had suddenly turned black and he had become painfully emaciated.

What surprised me most was that Tracy did not scream nor shriek. She picked up Craig's iPhone gingerly on a bush, making sure not to touch Craig's corpse that had dented a human-shaped hole in the bushes he fell on.

"Aren't you going to remove his shirt and change into it instead of that—" I turned to re-examine her, "—jungle bikini you're wearing?"

"That's none of your business!" snapped Tracy. "Perhaps his clothes are as poisonous as what killed him."

Nobody had to warn anybody. We simply moved on. And yes, we got ourselves a new camerawoman.

Officially speaking, Tracy is not going to be totally useless after all.

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Don't Forget To VOTE ⭐ ⊙﹏⊙