Red. Blue. Yellow.

After deciding to split the crowd into three groups for different tasks, I trudged back to my tent and collapsed onto the makeshift bed, the thin fabric barely softening the impact.

I couldn’t believe any of this was real.

Everything felt wrong. Traumatizing. Unreal.

Was it really too much to ask God just to let me meet someone romantically?

I hadn’t signed up for this nightmare.

The whole reason I even agreed to join this retreat was because I’d hoped—expected, really—to meet someone. Maybe have a little fun. I wanted, just once, to feel what it was like to be held by a guy. I wasn’t picky. Handsome or not didn’t matter as long as he was, well, a he. That was the only thing I’d been asking for.

I was so desperate. And instead? This.

I shivered, and I wrapped my arms around myself. But I knew it wasn’t from the cold. I couldn’t stop thinking about the captain’s cabin.

The body. The blood. The fact that there had been no head.

It was the first dead body I’d ever seen, and it would haunt me forever.

Suddenly, Vhina barged in, practically diving onto the bed beside me. Not that you could knock on a tent.

“Elly, how are you feeling?” she asked softly.

I appreciated her asking. “I’d be lying if I said I was fine. But I’m... not as shaken as earlier. However, it’s still—” I exhaled shakily. “It’s still sticking with me. I can’t stop seeing it.”

Vhina stayed quiet for a long moment, letting me sit with it.

Finally, she stood, grabbed my hydro flask from the pile of clothes beside the bed, and took a long swig. Her expression turned serious.

“We’re in the blue team,” she reported.

I blinked up at her, staring at the tent ceiling as I processed that.

Blue team. Right.

If I remembered correctly, our task was to go inland and search for any locals—or anything useful. But that wasn’t the real mission.

Teacher Mary had called it “Finding the Lost Group” mission.

Chevonne. Josh. The students. And everyone else.

Suddenly, the lingering haze of shock burned off, and I pushed myself upright, locking eyes with Vhina. “When do we leave?”

“Later,” she said. “The others are still getting ready.”

“When you said we, did you mean Ritchelle and Alyssa, too?”

“Yeah. Them, plus three from the barge crew. Teacher Norkie and teacher Selena are coming as well.”

Relief swept over me like a sudden breath of air, my skin prickling with goosebumps. At least they weren’t sending us out there completely unprotected.

Still, the mission was practically suicidal.

I frowned. “Why not just send the men? It makes more sense, doesn’t it? Why send us when they could—”

“They were going to send all the crew at first,” Vhina cut in, her voice grim. “But I don’t think teacher Mary trusts everyone here, especially the crew. That’s why she insisted some of us come along.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why us, though?”

She shrugged. “It seems like we’re the ones she trusts most.”

I sometimes couldn’t figure out what teacher Mary was thinking. But in this situation, it wouldn’t hurt to trust her. She was the most experienced among us when it came to handling crises—possibly more so than anyone else in the group. Trusting the rest of the crowd, even Dr. Shawn, seemed far too risky.

Sure, he was handsome—ruggedly so, with that effortless charm—but I couldn’t bring myself to trust him. I had watched enough movies to know how guys like him often turned out: the too-good-to-be-true ones who betrayed everyone at the worst moment. His polished demeanor felt suspicious, and I couldn’t shake the thought that his kindness might be hiding something darker. I hoped I was wrong.

Alyssa and Ritchelle entered the tent, each lugging a salvaged backpack from the barge.

“Hey. How’re you holding up?” Alyssa asked, her voice a mix of concern and forced cheer.

“I’m fine,” I said, eyeing the bags. “What’s with those?”

“Oh, these?” She unzipped one to show it was empty. “We figured we’d need something to stash useful stuff on the trip. Makes sense, right?”

“Yeah, that’s smart,” I admitted.

“What about you?” Ritchelle asked. “Aren’t you bringing anything?”

I held up my hydro flask. “Just this. Trust me, one of the biggest enemies of a survivalist is thirst. You all should pack water bottles, too.”

They nodded but didn’t seem too concerned. I doubted they’d follow through.

Teacher Mary entered abruptly, her expression brisk and unreadable, and motioned for the others to leave. Without a word, they ducked out, leaving the two of us alone. There was something unspoken between us now—a connection forged in the chaos, perhaps from what had happened with the captain. It was strange to feel so aligned with someone I barely interacted with before this.

She handed me something small, and I snatched it reflexively. It was my lucky charm. It survived the wreckage. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment at my reaction, but if she noticed, she didn’t show it. Instead, she sat beside me on the bed and wrapped one arm around my shoulders in a comforting semi-hug.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

It was such a simple phrase, but the way she said it carried weight. Out of context, someone might have mistaken it for a warning or even a threat. But after knowing her even just a little bit, it felt like genuine care.

Without another word, she stood and left the tent. I stared after her, unexpectedly grateful. Teacher Mary wasn’t someone I expected to feel close to, but this experience shifted my perspective. If we got out of this alive, I wouldn’t be afraid of her anymore—not at school, not anywhere.

Outside, teacher Selena and teacher Norkie stood with three crew members from the barge. They were deep in conversation, occasionally glancing toward the tent as if waiting for us. When the four of us emerged, they waved enthusiastically. Teacher Norkie gave us a quick nod—a silent signal that it was time to move.

“Let me introduce the rest of the group,” teacher Norkie said, gesturing toward the crew. “This is Mike.”

Mike gave us a weak smile. His pale, gaunt appearance reminded me of Desmond Doss from that war movie Molly and I watched last week. He seemed fragile, but there was something trustworthy about his demeanor. I hoped he wouldn’t disappoint.

“And these two are Jesson and Matt,” teacher Norkie continued, motioning to the other men.

Jesson and Matt nodded, their expressions serious but approachable.

“Hi, teachers,” the tall, chubby one, who I guessed was Jesson, said and gave us a wave and a wink. Then, he added some cringe-worthy lines I’d rather forget.

“Hey,” the shortest of the three—still taller than me, but only by a bit—scoffed, barely sparing us a glance.

What a rude guy. Matt. I’d sure as hell remember his name.

We hadn’t been walking long when the jungle closed in, the thick, damp grass clinging to our legs and slowing our steps. The air smelled of wet earth, and the ground squelched with every move, making it hard to keep balance.

Ritchelle was the first to run into trouble. She stepped forward then gasped as the ground swallowed her foot up to her shin. The earth was wet and sticky, dragging her lower with each passing second.

“Help! I—I think it’s quicksand!” she stammered, sinking deeper.

Jesson, despite his bulky frame, moved fast. He lunged and grabbed her arm, yanking hard enough to pull her free with a loud, muddy slurp. She stumbled back, panting but safe.

You’d never expect someone who looked so unreliable to be the one to step up like that.

After nearly an hour of trekking through the oppressive heat, Matt started complaining. No surprise there.

“What kind of jungle is this? I’ve been a seafarer in Kulbahinam for years, but I’ve never seen plants this thick or this weird on any island up north.” He swatted at a vine that dangled too close.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I’m with ya, bro. Remember when we hit Bantayan last month? We’ve been to a lot of places, but this—” Jesson gestured around dramatically. “This is a whole different level.”

He flashed a grin, clearly trying to lighten the mood. But his next comment killed the effect. “Though, I gotta say, those bars were full of chicks. Not like this place.”

I rolled my eyes. Typical. He struck me as a self-proclaimed ladies’ man who probably got rejected more often than not.

I shook my head, annoyed at myself for being so judgmental. Maybe I was just stressed.

“Told you—” Mike’s voice cut through the noise. It was the first time he had spoken since we left. His voice was deep—far deeper than I expected from someone so thin and almost skeletal. “This might not even be Bantayan at all.”

Teacher Norkie nodded, scanning the foliage. “There’s something strange here. The plants look off. Hopefully, we can figure out where we really are soon.”

“Hey, what about those?” Teacher Selena pointed to our left where a cluster of large, brightly colored butterflies hovered around a strange-looking flower. Its petals curled inward like claws, and the insects seemed oddly drawn to its deep purple core.

Matt marched over without a second thought.

“Careful,” teacher Norkie started, but Matt already had his hand out.

He snatched one of the creatures mid-air, crushing it in his fist. Purple liquid oozed between his fingers as the insect twitched, lifeless.

Alyssa let out a sharp gasp, practically screeching. The rest of us recoiled, horrified by the sudden brutality.

“These aren’t butterflies,” Matt declared, wiping his palm on his pants. “They’re mosquitoes. Look closer.”

I squinted. Now that he mentioned it, the creature did resemble a mosquito—just… wrong. Its wings were too large, patterned like a butterfly’s but veined unnaturally thick. Its body was segmented and bloated, its legs oddly jointed. It was as if nature had taken both insects and merged them into something unrecognizable.

“Ouch!” teacher Selena winced, slapping her neck. When she pulled her hand away, a small welt had formed, already red and inflamed.

We all stepped back instinctively, tension crackling between us.

“Guys? What—what’s wrong?” her voice wavered.

“Selena, stay calm,” teacher Norkie said, carefully measured. “Look at your arms.”

She glanced down.

The reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened, and a scream tore from her throat as more rashes erupted across her skin, blooming in angry red patches. She clawed at her arms, her neck—everywhere—gasping about the unbearable itch.

“We need to get her back to camp. Now,” Jesson said, his voice tight with worry.

“We’ve come too far already,” Mike countered. “If we all turn back, this whole trip will be pointless. Someone should take her while the rest keep going.”

Before anyone could argue, Mike stepped forward and gently hooked Selena’s arm over his shoulders. “I’ll do it. You all press on.”

Teacher Selena blinked up at teacher Norkie, her face pale and pleading.

He hesitated at first then relented with a sigh. “Alright. Be careful. Take the safest path back.”

Mike nodded and started guiding teacher Selena away through the thick undergrowth, her steps wobbly but determined.

The rest of us watched in uneasy silence as they disappeared into the trees.

*****

Teacher Norkie led the way as we trudged through even denser foliage than before. The undergrowth tangled around our ankles, damp grass soaking our shoes with each step. The air felt heavier, pressing down as we moved deeper into the unfamiliar jungle.

We, girls, passed around my hydro flask in turns, taking careful sips to conserve the water. We had no idea when we’d find a clean stream or a potable water source. Or better yet, some locals willing to help.

If only they had brought water bottles, too.

Vhina suddenly slumped to the ground, clutching her knees as she panted. Her breathing turned shallow, almost wheezing.

“Can we rest? Just for a minute?” she asked, her voice weak.

Teacher Norkie turned, already nodding in agreement when Matt cut in.

“Woman, we’ll waste too much time stopping now. Have Jesson carry you if you can’t keep up.”

His words hit like a slap.

“Hey! Who do you think you are, talking like that?” Alyssa snapped before I could. She shot forward, fists clenched at her sides.

Matt just shrugged. “I’m being practical.”

“Practical? You sound heartless! It’s like you don’t care what happens to anyone but yourself! Not everyone has your monstrous stamina.”

“Not my fault, is it? If you knew she was weak, you should’ve left her at camp. Dead weight isn’t going to help this mission.”

“Whoa, that’s enough.” I stepped in, my blood boiling. “You’re being a total jerk.”

The tension thickened. Voices clashed as Matt doubled down, insisting Jesson should carry Vhina, while we fired back about how cruel and reckless he was acting. I was mid-sentence when teacher Norkie finally stepped between us, his calm but firm presence silencing the argument.

“Matt, we’re stopping. Five minutes.” His voice was calm but steel-edged. “Continuing when someone’s on the verge of exhaustion is more dangerous than resting a moment.”

Matt scowled, not backing down. “You should’ve told that supervisor of yours not to drag these women along. They’re treating this like a field trip.”

“Watch your mouth,” teacher Norkie’s voice dropped. “You don’t talk about my co-teachers like that. You wouldn’t like what happens if you get on my nerves.”

The air crackled with tension. Matt squared his shoulders and locked eyes with teacher Norkie in a silent challenge.

It was like watching a Mexican standoff.

Teacher Norkie, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, looked like someone who could have stepped out of a WWE match. His bald head glistened under the filtered light, every muscle flexed but controlled. On the contrary, Matt was very small. There was a clear difference, and he seemed to realize it. A sheen of sweat broke across his forehead.

If I were him, I’d have backed off ages ago.

Vhina shifted closer to me and whispered, “Are they gonna fight?”

I kept my eyes on them. “Don’t even think that. Teacher Norkie’s a professional. He’ll handle this.”

Ritchelle crawled over on my other side. “Hey, uh… The atmosphere is getting tense.”

“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Let’s just… wait it out.”

Finally, Matt’s glare wavered. His jaw tightened, then he spun around with a frustrated grunt and dropped onto a grassy mound.

“Five minutes. Not a second more,” he muttered, his back to us.

“Thank you, Matt,” teacher Norkie said, his voice steady but with a pointed calmness that only made Matt bristle more.

Silence fell.

No one spoke, not even us, afraid that saying the wrong thing might set Matt off again. I checked my hydro flask and felt my stomach sink—it was almost empty, maybe good for a single sip.

I looked between my friends, and we came to the same unspoken agreement. Vhina needed it most.

I crouched to offer her the last of the water, but the world spun.

My head felt like it turned a full circle, dizziness making the trees blur. My knees buckled, and the ground seemed to rush up.

But I never hit it.

Jesson caught me by the waist just in time, steadying me with a firm grip.

For a second—no, a heartbeat—everything froze.

If this were a Korean drama, there’d be flower petals fluttering around us. His face was way too close, his breath ghosting across my cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a low, husky voice.

God, no. Please. Not him.

His breath was warm but—ugh—carried the unmistakable stench of garlic. I almost gagged.

Still, something about it felt… familiar. Too familiar.

I stared at his face, searching. His smile, that odd tilt of his lips—

And then it hit me.

The missing teeth.

That grin.

It was him. The guy from high school.

“Ri—Rico?” I stammered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

His smile shifted slightly but enough to tell me he’d heard.

“How’d you know my second name?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

My heart raced. “Oh my God, it’s you! Rico!”

The puzzle pieces snapped together, and I saw the same realization dawn on his face. His wide eyes, the soft, stunned expression—they all clicked. The nostalgia washed over me, filling the moment with a strange, bittersweet warmth. So, it was really him. Rico.

The same Rico I once had a crush on.

“Look at you!” I teased, shaking off the shock. “How’d you end up this... round?”

He chuckled, patting his stomach. “Hey, I never planned to be this cuddly, okay? But you—wow, you’re just as beautiful as before. What’s your secret, Jelly?”

“Let me tell you, I wouldn’t have recognized you if not for those cheesy pick-up lines and—well—your face practically hiding under all that baby fat.”

“Ouch. Way to hit a guy where it hurts,” he said, clutching his chest dramatically. Then, his voice softened. “So... You’re a teacher now?”

“And you a seafarer?”

“Life’s weird, huh?”

“Sure is.”

We both laughed, breaking the lingering tension in the air. Rico gently helped me to my feet, his hand warm as he steadied me.

Our eyes met, and we shared a smile.

Was this it? Was this the kind of romantic encounter I’d dreamed of?

He wasn’t exactly handsome, not in the way you’d expect, but something about him made my heart stutter. Maybe it was how he still made me feel like that awkward girl from high school—like the version of him standing here, even in his worn indigo coveralls, wasn’t far from the mischievous boy who’d once stolen my heart.

“Hey! What are you two doing back there?” Matt’s sharp voice cut through the moment.

“Nothing. Just... catching up,” Rico replied, still smiling as he turned.

Matt squinted at him. “Wait, you two know each other?”

“Yeah,” Rico said, grinning. “Back in high school. We were both in the student council.”

Matt raised a skeptical brow. “Huh. Never pegged you for a schoolboy, Jes. Always figured you were the type with corny pick-up lines for every girl in sight. Guess that explains the whole seafarer gig—sailing from port to port, huh? Chasing... variety?”

Rico’s face went beet red. “Dude, come on. Don’t just say stuff like that!” He turned to me, clearly flustered. “That’s not—uh—not entirely true, you know.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and Rico joined in, though his embarrassment lingered in his nervous smile.

Just as the mood lightened, teacher Norkie’s voice cut through, tense and concerned. “Where’s teacher Alyssa?”

Rico and Matt’s heads snapped around. My stomach twisted as I scanned the area, heart pounding. Ritchelle, Vhina, and I shouted Alyssa’s name—once, twice—but got no reply.

“Alyssa!”

No response.

“Over here!” Ritchelle’s voice trembled as she pointed through a break in the shrubs.

We pushed through the tangled brush, and the ground suddenly dropped away beneath us.

A cliff.

It was nearly a ten-meter drop, the jagged rocks below half-hidden by the shadows. Rico scanned the area, his face hardening, while the rest of us called out again and again.

“Here!”

Teacher Norkie’s voice came from the far edge.

We rushed over.

He was standing near the cliff’s edge, pale and still, pointing down.

There—just beside him—sat a pair of black shoes. They were neatly placed. They were perfectly aligned as if someone had taken them off before stepping inside a house.

A sickening realization crept in, tightening my throat. My legs weakened. Ritchelle gasped, clutching Vhina’s arm, both of them shaking.

They were Alyssa’s shoes.

The truth felt like a crushing weight pressing on my chest. We knew. Yet we forced ourselves to look.

I leaned forward, heart thundering in my ears. Even with my vision blurring from unshed tears, the scene below was unmistakable.

A broken body lay twisted at the base of the cliff. Dark pool of blood spread beneath it.

We screamed.

We cried.

It was Alyssa.