When your plane crashed, you didn’t expect to be left alive through it all. Never to be the only one. It was 4 hours into an 8 hour flight, and you were almost asleep, when the aircraft filled with the screaming of passengers and groaning of metal ripping apart. The rest was a blur. So was your next few days- at least, you think it’s only days- as you tumbled out of the cabin and into the thickest jungle you’d ever seen. Days were hot, nights were chilly. Water was dirty, food was scarce. You couldn’t talk with the intercom or the phones, as everything was dead. All you knew is that you were hungry, sore, and tired. You were gaunter than before, you can tell that much.

You’re on what you supposed was day 5 or 6, stumbling through a particularly thick area. Vines are strung from low hanging branches, the trees tall and blocking the rays of the sun. It doesn’t make it any less hot, as the moisture in the air clings to your dirty hair and clothes. It’s only when you sit down under a tree, trying to catch your breath, when you hear something.

“Human… oh human…” A voice called, soothing, low. You look around but you don’t see anyone. All you can see is a huge snake’s tail through the branches, but it blends in too quickly to look like anything more than a trick of the light.