Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 881 - 883

Chapter 881: Chapter 883

She blinked, as if surprised she’d said anything. "I mean... it hasn’t tried to kill us. Right? It just... touches us. Like it wants to be close."

"Or it’s waiting," Jude said. "To see how far it can go."

No one argued.

That night, Jude didn’t sleep in the treehouse. He took his bedroll and climbed down to the forest floor, laying it near the roots of the largest tree in camp. The others protested, but he insisted. He needed to feel the ground, the heartbeat of the island itself. He needed to know if the presence was inside the trees, the soil, the roots. If it lived in the very bones of the shell that carried them.

He closed his eyes. Listened. The wind rustled through the branches. Somewhere, an owl called. The jungle never slept, but tonight it felt like it held its breath.

And just before he drifted off, he heard it again. That same voice. Not in words, not in sound, but in his bones.

You are mine. Not because I take you. Because you want to be taken.

He didn’t move.

I’m learning you. Every breath. Every glance. Every secret you never speak aloud. Soon, you will love me too.

Jude didn’t sleep. And when dawn broke, he wasn’t sure if he had ever woken up.

The morning arrived veiled in mist, low and heavy over the treetops like breath held too long. Jude sat alone by the firepit, embers still smoldering from the night before. The others were still in their shelters, some asleep, some pretending to be. The night had changed something among them. Not in the way a storm changes the shoreline, but deeper, like water seeping through cracks in stone, finding weaknesses that had been there all along. Jude hadn’t spoken a word since the voice in the night whispered to him from nowhere and everywhere all at once. He hadn’t told anyone about it. He didn’t need to. He could feel its echo in the silence, like it had planted itself behind his eyes.

The sky above the mist was pale, colorless. Even the birds seemed reluctant to sing. Jude stared at the dying coals and ran his fingers over the handle of the knife strapped to his belt. He wasn’t afraid of violence. He’d killed to protect his family before, killed monsters far more horrific than nightmares. But this, this was different. This didn’t come with claws or teeth or screams in the dark. It came as a whisper in the light, a seduction of the soul. He was beginning to wonder if the island itself was changing them or if something else had come with them all along, hiding inside their joy and sorrow, biding its time.

The first to emerge was Grace, her long hair braided loosely over one shoulder, her face unreadable. She didn’t say good morning. She didn’t smile. She walked to the fire, added kindling, and lit it again without speaking. Her movements were deliberate, efficient. Her hands didn’t shake, but there was something in the set of her jaw, a tension that hadn’t been there before. Jude didn’t interrupt her. He only watched.

Next came Zoey and Susan, talking softly as they descended from their shared treehouse, their conversation too hushed to hear. When they saw Jude, they fell silent. They approached with careful smiles, settling beside him like he was a fire they needed to warm themselves by but feared might burn too hot.

Scarlett came out yawning, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and the moment she saw them all sitting so quietly, her expression shifted. She didn’t ask what was wrong. None of them did anymore.

Soon the others joined, Sophie, Natalie, Emma, Serena, Stella, Amelia, and finally Lucy, still tying her hair back as she sat beside Grace. They formed a loose circle around the fire, but no one reached for food. No one spoke until the silence became unbearable.

"What are we going to do?" Serena asked, eyes darting to Jude.

"About what?" Zoey said, though the question sounded forced, as if she was already regretting it.

"You know what."

"I don’t remember anything," Grace said. "Not last night. Not anything unusual. But I feel like I’m lying every time I say that."

"It’s not just blackouts," Stella murmured. "It’s like we’re being... tested."

Emma shook her head slowly. "No, not tested. Studied. Like something’s learning us."

A heavy silence fell again.

Jude leaned forward. "Last night, I heard something. Not a voice, not exactly. A presence. It was inside my thoughts. It said... it was learning me. That I’d want it."

The others went still.

"I didn’t dream it. I was awake. It wasn’t a hallucination."

"I believe you," Sophie said quietly. "Because I’ve felt it too. Not in words, but like... pressure. Like something leaning over my soul."

Natalie clutched her arms. "So what does it want? To hurt us?"

"No," Lucy said, surprising them. "It doesn’t want to hurt us. It wants to become us."

Jude turned to her. "What do you mean?"

She looked pale, uncertain, but her voice was steady. "Each time it comes, it mimics us better. The way we talk. The way we touch. It’s not just taking control. It’s learning how to wear us like clothes."

Amelia whispered, "So we’re being... copied?"

"No," Jude said, the word barely audible. "We’re being seduced."

The fire cracked loudly, sending a few sparks into the air. No one moved to brush them away.

"Then why us?" Susan asked. "Why now? We’ve been on this island for years. Why is this happening now?"

"Maybe it was waiting for something," Jude said. "A moment when we were vulnerable."

Emma looked up at him. "Or maybe it’s been happening longer than we remember."

The words struck hard. They all glanced at each other, faces shifting with the thought that maybe this wasn’t new. Maybe the blue smoke, the blankouts, the strange hunger in their hearts, maybe it had been part of them for far longer than they’d realized.