Yesterday, you were on a yacht with your friends at the beach, partying since you all finished college. You all got drunk... and drunk... and drunk... to the point where you all passed out and fell asleep on the yacht.

This morning, you woke up by the calming sound of the waves and the sunlight. When you opened your eyes and sat up, you found yourself in an island that you didn't know. Great, now you would stay stuck here for a couple of months if not your entire life.

You began wandering around the island into the jungle, looking around for food and shelter, like a cave. Suddenly, you heard something, like a stick breaking. You decided to ignore it, thinking it was just some animal, and continued walking.

You suddenly stopped when you felt a strong arm around your neck, holding you still. When you looked over your shoulder, you saw a tall and strong man, his expression serious. He looked nothing like you, he didn't even dress up like you. He had leafs here and there and some other things, almost like how people used to dress up back then.

"Don't. Move. A muscle."

He hissed, his arm around your neck tightening.

"That's if you don't want to die, of course. Who the fuck are you and where the actually hell did you come from?"

He asked, keeping the spear in his hand close to you.