Cerberi

Chapter 2

I stepped off the bottom step and my foot was encircled by chilly ocean surf that was leftover from the receding sea. I ran across the beach, taking large strides to cover more ground. The second tide came in as I reached the mouth of the small cave, and managed to slip in before it soaked my trousers. I had never particularly liked the cave, I hated spiders, and outdoor enclosed spaces always made me feel as if I were surrounded by spiders that were lying in wait to drop onto me at any moment. I shivered at the thought and quickly clambered between two large boulders, behind which was a tunnel that eventually led to the underground entrance to the Island.

Hidden in plain sight, the tunnel was rarely explored by locals, it was too dark, too cold, and too impractical, despite this, some young people had managed to spread their graffiti almost halfway down the tunnel, which was an achievement because the tunnels were patrolled by our men who took their job very seriously. The only other people who had made it that far into the tunnel called themselves 'Urban Explorers' and begged to see more, but they were told strictly that it was private property and that they would be arrested if they went any further.

I reached the tunnel's halfway point and could sense the guards' presence. They could sense me, too because I could feel them getting closer to me. When I saw their figures in the darkness I smiled and waved slightly, and they relaxed a little. After another four full minutes of walking-which is seemingly a long time when in a long, dark, cold tunnel that runs in a straight line-I saw the dim glow of the Island interior. Stationed at the door were two static guards who paid me little attention as I wandered past.

The Island had been my home for many years now, and yet I never strayed from the main corridors into the labyrinthine bedroom corridors. My room was on the sixth floor, far above sea level. When I had arrived at the Island, I had been given the whole of the sixth floor to myself as I was the first member of a section that had no one had ever intended to exist: the woman's wing. My segregation meant that I still had almost the whole floor to myself, my room was the largest on that floor and had a bathroom attached to it.

I reached my door, it was situated at a larger distance from the others and had an oak frame, carved and then painted with liquid gold. The door itself was a slightly redder wood than the other doors and had a black iron ring for the handle.

The room was vast, like a small cavern. My large bed sat at the back of the room opposite the door with long, large curtains pulled round three sides of it. A curved desk ran around the wall starting from the side of the window and ending just by the door. The other portion of the wall that side of the room, up to my bed was a large bookshelf that held more books than the public library. To the opposite side of the room was my favourite item-my weapons rack and just beside that, leaning up against my bedpost was my sheath and inside it lay my most prized possession-a hand crafted sword, made for me as a birthday gift by a man I once knew. Beside that was the door to my bathroom, equally as elaborate as my front door.

The residents of the Island, and the residents of the similar colonies around the world collectively called themselves Cerberi. What started as a cult soon became small communities of movements full of men who were tired of the outside world. The counter movement called themselves Venataurs, who fancied themselves as a cult of Van Helsing-like slayers, who considered it their life mission to seek out and dispose of Cerberi. The reality was, that many Venataurs were once Cerberi themselves, or at least admirers of the lifestyle, living similarly but in a collective hate.

Not just anyone can become a Cerberi, and becoming a member has huge impact on a life. Not only is the Cerberi lifestyle a male-dominated culture of pride, power, ferocity and tradition, but it also separates one from the outside world. Other colonies do not take the lifestyle as seriously as the English do, but the Island was the original residence of the first established Cerberi colony and therefore considers itself a beacon for the traditional lifestyle.

The island was divided into the traditionalists and the modernists, despite living side by side, the difference in views were dichotomous. The traditionalists refused to acknowledge that a woman was one of them and would refuse to even challenge me to a traditional fight. The modernists were the ones who brought skills and trade to the community, the doctors and nurses, the cooks and administrators. The people who ran the Island and allowed us to function mostly independently, they appreciated the lifestyle but accepted the need for change and growth.