His one ally, a Monster older than time.
A commercial flight crashes after being torn apart by a terrible storm. Bram wakes up on an unknown island to tragedy and loss. Only he and a few survivors remain to pick up the pieces of their ruined lives. They all think that they’re alone on the island, lost in the middle of nowhere with little hope of ever going home. It doesn’t take long for the island’s original occupant to reveal its presence to Bram. There is an old and dark entity who lives there, and it wishes to use Bram’s pain and twist his soul. It wants to convince him that some of the others might not deserve to live.
“You’re going to die, Bram,” Amraxus spoke. “You know that, don’t you? You won’t last very long the way you are right now.”
“Are you even real?” Bram asked. The sound of his own voice frightened him. It was like the sound of course sandpaper.
“I am real, indeed. Tell me, do you want to die?”
The question startled Bram, and for a moment he didn’t know how to answer. The truth was, he discovered that he was willing to die, to let it all end here now in this jungle, upon this nameless island drifting in the middle of nowhere. Let it all end now so that he could be reunited with his beloved. Besides, he knew that he was too far gone now. The God King had it right; he couldn’t last much longer with these wounds. It was a wonder that he was even still alive. So, what was the point now of speaking with the God King, whether he was even real or not? Why carry on the charade any longer?
After receiving no answer, Amraxus allowed a frown to cloud his shadowy face. He bent low and crouched beside Bram’s dying body. He crossed his arms over his knees and rested his chin upon his wrist. The look of amusement returned to his face. He took delight from the pitiful sight before him.