The Expedition That Never Happened
-1966-
"Come on keep moving" a man yelled as he navigated through a dense forest filled with many hanging vines and insects while dragging a large bag on the floor with one arm, his other seemed occupied holding a strange golden artifact "We can't afford to waste any second, those things could return, and this time we'll be done for if they do". The man looked hurt, he wore a large hat that covered up his shaved face, his shirt was white, stained by blood, his blood, and his pants were brown seemingly made of leather all torn as well. Behind were a bunch of tired men and women, exhausted from all the walking and running they seemed to have done following him, before any other word could be uttered the ground began to tremble knocking everyone to their knees. In the same sudden way it started, it stopped. The atmosphere grew intense, not a sound could be heard, the birds and insects were hushed, it almost felt as though they had all left, the trees stood still, not a breeze under any leaf or branch and so did everyone in sight. The silence lasted only a few seconds before they start rushing with what was left of their supplies, and some stolen ones, to a beach. There was a ship docked not too far from the shore.
Finally, the thick forest was over, and before them was a stretch of sand, nothing but sand fading into the ocean at its end. A look of relief spread across all their faces as they began to rush towards it. After a long stroll onto the ship, the explorers finally felt at ease and ready to sail back home. However just before they could leave, the waters began to rapidly dance around them, tumbling the ship over and everyone on board. The man who lead the expedition survived despite that but when he crawled around on a log looking for any survivors he was unable to spot any. Despite being injured and alone, he continued to drag himself onto the shore. "Where is it" he coughed out buckets of water as he tumbled through the wreckage in search of the golden artifact "no, no, no, no it has to be here somewhere" he coughed desperately in search of the artifact he seemed to care for more than his life. It wasn't long before colors got misplaced and his mind went foggy, he could barely see what was right in front of him before he blacked out. Just like that, he was gone.
Miraculously, he was able to open his eyes and breath again. His eyes didn't even bother to scan his surroundings, though he was conscious he seemed unable to move or speak. Doctors surrounded him to ask him questions but the man was unable to answer as his eyes locked to only the light above him. Finally, after long, the man uttered quietly "The island...the treasure...everyone, I..saw... I had". His words didn't make any sense to the doctors working on him but they quickly rushed to check on him before he passed out again. "Island? Treasure?" One doctor asked another "Where was he found?", the other doctor grabbed files and read through "The ocean, stranded...there was no island or treasure, he was alone with whatever was left of his ship, he's hallucinating, that's all". Except he wasn't. That was the story of Montana Smith. The Second-greatest explorer ever.
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