User blog:DJ Spenstar/Infinity Chapter 4 Preview. Beware the spoilers!

Hey guys. Spenstar here. Total Drama Infinity gets a new chapter tomorrow morning, and right now I'm writing with an intensity that I've never felt before. That's why the preview is so much different that previous ones. It came to be just over one page on MS Word.

The night was covered in darkness. There were no sounds except from the owls and bats that took residence in the forest that is The Dark Island.

'''Timmy: My friend Richard and I dubbed this place, The Dark Island. It’s fitting, isn’t it? '''

The only other sounds were the snoring noises, coming from the trailers in which 19 teens slept, always fearing what Justin would do next. Not a soul slept soundly. No soul will ever sleep well on this god-forsaken island. The sheer dread and terror simply engulfs everybody, every night, and if not that, then it’s somebody’s own insanity that provides cursed dreams. Being awake isn’t much better, when you’re constantly reminded that you’ve been doomed to spend a summer here, at the mercy of a psychopath. A living hell is what waits at The Dark Island.

Nobody slept soundly, and Spike was no exception. He dreamed of his gang back home, spending days and nights on the streets of New York City. Spike did not dream scenes, rather, he dreamed pictures. He dreamed of his gang suffering without him. He dreamed of his gang being taken down like another without Spike’s strength. His gang was his family, and was torture to even think of these things for poor Spike. But alas, that was what filled his mind on his second night at The Dark Island.

He dreamed of Woolly Beavers attacking his gang, his family, and devouring them. He dreamed of a tornado swallowing them up, while Spike could only look on helplessly, shouting “Make it stop! Make it stop!” again and again. The tricks of The Dark Island never did answer those pleads.

Spike tossed and turned in his trailer bunk, asleep, as images of his gang being stabbed to death by Justin rushed through his head. Finally, an image of Justin laughing triumphantly while his gang lay dead on the streets, their blood everywhere, forced Spike back into consciousness. Spike let out a single cry, and then just lay awake in his bunk, breathing hard, dripping sweat, while trying to forget his dreams.

“Why,” whispered Spike in his sleep, “Why do I have to be put through this torture? What the hell did I ever do to deserve this?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Lee’s bunk empty. The sheets were nice and neat, but there was no person in it. “Where did they take him” Spike asked himself, “Where do the eliminated go?”

Spike reflected to earlier that day, when he wrote Lee’s name on the ballot. “If I had known of the madness,” Spike said softly to himself, “I wouldn’t have done that. Who does that freak Justin think he is, messing with our heads like that?” he sighed, “At least wherever Lee’s going, it’s better than here. I’d give anything to leave this place.” Quietly, Spike got up and looked around him. It seemed that bad dreams were spreading like the plague. Spike’s heart sank as he saw Quentin, his only fiend here, sweating and tossing around in his top bunk. Steve too, was uneasy, his insane mind probably projecting the worst of images. Finally, Spike looked at Samuel. He was certainly not smiling, and his eyes were tightly shut, but Spike noticed that Samuel wasn’t tossing, turning, sweating, or showing actual fear like the others were. “How does he do it?” whispered Spike.