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Ryan walked across the beach trying to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was that he was on a small plane crossing from the main island to one of the smaller, less inhabited islands to spend a couple of nights camping on the beach. Ryan was a surf instructor and with a job like his he was able to travel the world and compete in ddifferent compititons and teach wealthy tourists how to surf. A sudden, horrible strom crept up on the plane and sent it crashing down to the ocean like a child throwing their toy in a fit. And that was it, the next thig he knew he awoke on this desserted tropical island.

Ryan was able to build himseld a substansial shelter and found some of his supplies on shore. His sleeping bag, tent, food, and backpack had all some how made its way to shore with him, only, they were neatly stacked next to his body and fairly dry, indicating that he had been on shore for some time. Ryan had been able to build a signal fire and large S.O.S signal and now as he headed back to camp with some coconuts he was able to find, he was astonished to find his signal fire out, his S.O.S siganl scattered across the beach, and some lobster and clams stacked in a basket beside his tent. "Hello, Hello?!?!" Ryan yelled. He couldnt believe what was happening. "Have I gone crazy?" He thought to himself? He then noticed a set of footprints leading to the turqois water. "What the hell is going on here?" Ryan thought to himself.

Starnge event kept happening to Ryan over the course of the next few days. WHo, or whatever was ther with him, was trying to keep him ...

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