290,000 years later
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A ship drifted through the mist, its crew tense with anticipation. The island before them was a vision of untouched splendor-rolling fields of flowers, their colors unknown to the world, trees bearing fruit that no human had ever seen or tasted. It was paradise, and yet, something about it felt wrong.
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Among the explorers was Dr. Elias Montgomery, a renowned scientist, his assistant Sophia Carter, and ten armed men hired as protection. They had come in search of a legend, a myth whispered through centuries.
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Dr. Montgomery's breath hitched as his gaze locked onto a towering, ancient tree at the island's heart. The Tree of Life.
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"Impossible..." he whispered. His voice trembled, a mixture of awe and disbelief.
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The Tree of Life-a fable made flesh. Its golden fruit gleamed in the dappled sunlight, pulsing with an otherworldly energy. Ancient scriptures spoke of it: Whoever eats of its fruit shall never know sickness, nor death. The key to eternity itself.
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"This... this is it! The greatest discovery in human history!" Montgomery cried out, his voice breaking with excitement.
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One of the hired men chuckled darkly. "If it's real, then I'm eating first."
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Ignoring the scientist's warning shouts, the man stepped forward, reaching for one of the shimmering fruits. His fingers barely brushed the skin-
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And he vanished.
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No scream. No trace. No sound, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind.
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The tree remained untouched, its fruit swaying gently.
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Then-a sickening crunch.
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The crew recoiled as something hit the ground. A pile of bones. The very same man who had reached for the fruit-his flesh and organs were gone, stripped clean as if by an unseen force. Only his skeleton remained, curled in a grotesque heap.
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A scream tore through the air. Sophia doubled over, vomiting violently at the sight. The guards cursed, scrambling to reload their weapons. The air thickened, pressing in around them, suffocating in its unnatural stillness.
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And then-Abaddon walked out.
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From the dense foliage, he emerged.
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A boy in shape, but nothing human.
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His legs twisted grotesquely backward, yet he moved effortlessly. Three arms twitched unnaturally at his sides, his flesh writhing as if barely holding its form together. Forty-five eyes blinked in an unholy sequence, scattered across his face, neck, and arms. His tongue, long and blackened, dragged across the bloodstained earth.
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His very presence was wrong, a blasphemy against existence itself.
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"S-Stop there!" one of the men stammered, his rifle shaking in his grip.
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Abaddon turned his many eyes to him.
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The man's bladder released.
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In pure instinctual terror, they opened fire. Bullets ripped through the abomination's body-yet he did not slow. He did not bleed.
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He did not even flinch.
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Still, he advanced. Step by step.
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One of the men fumbled in his pack, yanking out a grenade. Desperation twisted his features as he tore out the pin-
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His head vanished.
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One second it was there, the next-it simply wasn't. His body collapsed, twitching, a fountain of blood spraying the air as his lifeless corpse hit the ground.
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And then-the creatures came.
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They slithered from the shadows, crawling on too many limbs, whispering in voices that did not belong in this world. They did not kill the men-they simply dragged them away, pulling them into the darkness where screams became gurgles.
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One of the men, in sheer horrified surrender, turned his gun on himself. "Better to die by my own hand than... than this."
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The shot rang out. He fell.
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Sophia, shaking, picked up his gun. Her face was streaked with tears, her lips muttering a silent prayer to a god that had long abandoned this place.
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She placed the barrel beneath her chin and pulled the trigger.
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Her body crumpled beside the others.
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And still, Abaddon stood.
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Watching.
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Waiting.
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Behind him, the island thrived-its flowers blooming, its fruit ripening in the golden light. A paradise untouched by time, undisturbed by decay.
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Yet no human would ever leave it alive.
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This was The Forgotten Island Called Paradise.
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And it belonged to him.
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