S.O.S.

A man is on a deserted island with a pack on his back. Two police in a helicopter find him and come to see what happened. The man was scrunched in a tight ball; the pack on his back was straight in the air. They looked inside the pack and it was empty. The police were baffled and decided to split up to search the abandoned island for any clues. One went searching the area and the other stayed with the man’s body. This is exactly what the man wanted them to do. As the one cop went out of sight and the other paced in front of the body, the man slowly eased his way out of the tight ball he put himself in. It was perfect timing. When the meds that slowed down his breathing and heart rate started to ware off, he was ready to proceed. Once he untangled his self mangled body he grabbed the knife that he stuck in the ground beneath him and silently slit the cop’s throat while he was staring out at sea. There was no sound the other cop could have heard. The sound of blood collecting in the cop’s throat as he dropped to his knees was quiet. When the first cop’s face landed in the hot sand, the man quickly changed clothes with him and put him in the same place he was laying and in the same position. Standing facing the broad ocean with the salty wind gently blowing through his hair, he waited.

Finally his prey arrived. The cop came out of the tall, wild grass and began walking back to the crime scene. He saw his partner standing toward the ocean, hands in his navy blue uniform pockets, which was weird because his partner hated putting hands in his pockets. The cop called his partner’s name. The man stood there. The cop called again. The man stood there. The cop approached yelling at whom he thought was his partner and the man spun around and with one smooth motion he let his arm, with the knife in it, fling through the air, cutting through the cops skin right under his jaw bone. The man watch as the blood poured out of his neck. When the cop fell to the ground, the man carried each one to a ditch with more than thirty bodies in it, mostly cops. The man threw them in, placed his hands on his hips and smiled.

On his way back through the tall grass, he made sure to rip his clothes and spread mud on his face. He quietly walked to his spot on the beach. The sun was setting and the sky was a mixture of purple, orange, yellow and blue. The wind blew mist from the ocean on the man’s face. He lay down in his tight ball on the sand, with the now clean knife stuck in the indent in the ground underneath him, making sure to replace his empty pack on his back.