One of the worst things that could happen to them was getting seperated,
which was, most unfortunately, what
Flea's story I'll tell first. He remembered falling, suddenly and without
warning, freefalling in darkness. He stretched his
limbs in a desperate hope to grab something to keep him from falling even further, but it was no use. The tension in his
body was becomming too great, and he lost consciousness altogether.
He woke up and rubbed the back of his shaved head, which ached terribly.
He looked around, and he found he was in a
forest. Although it seemed farmilliar, he knew he'd never been here before.
"Are you allright?"
The voice was young and female. He turned around to come face to face
with a girl no more than 12 years old, with long
blonde hair that spiraled down her back. Although it was autumn, she only wore a brown sweater and a pair of khaki
cargos. Her hiking boots were spotless and buckled neatly. Her skin had a light tan and her eyes were a deep brown, a
bit lighter in shade than Anthony's.
"Yeah, my head hurts a bit though. Who are you?"
"My name is Tonya. *authors note: pronounces Toan-Ya* Who are you?"
At first Flea was a little befuddled because he thought that she'd know
who he was for sure, but then he decided all the
better. She wouldn't act like a flake and scream or pass out like most of the fans he faced. Of course, he's never been in
this situation before.
"My name's Michael Balzary."
Nope, not a trace of excitement.
"What are you doing out here on the ground?"
"I just remember falling," he said, rubbing his head again, then wincing
as soon as his head hit an opening. On his way
down, he cut himself. He removed his hand and, sure enough, there was blood on his fingertips. She seen and her face
"You poor thing! C'mon, I'll take you to my place and we'll get it fixed."
So the girl lead the way back to the cabin that was her home. On the way there, Flea tried to make conversation.
"So, what are you doing out in the woods so late?"
"I was bear watching," she replied, "This is the best time of evening
to see them. I know a place where you can see a
mother and her cub. It's adorable!"
Flea was definantly interested now. He loved bears dearly, and he could
tell by her enthousiasm that she loved them
too. They weren't walking far when a hunter came out of the woods. As soon as he seen Tonya, he aimed his gun for
"GET OUT OF THE WAY MACK, THAT'S NO LITTLE GIRL!"
He grabbed Tonya's arm and they were running. BAM! A gunshot, but it
just wizzed by his head, and they kept running.
As soon as they were as far away from the hunter as possible, they stopped.
"What was with him?"
Tonya looked at her boots.
"I don't know. I always hated big game hunters. They don't see the beauty
in nature. They just want to bag a big catch
and brag to their friends how big a kill they caught."
"True," said Flea, astonished by the girl's words and wisdom.
"Oh, we're here!"
Flea's eyes scanned the area. All he could see was a cave and a figure
that looked like a bear emerging from the
"If you run," she said, tilting her head up slowly, "You're no better than the hunter.
Her face was different. Her nose and mouth pertruded into a small, crude
snout. Brown fur had sprouted under her eyes
and covered her entire face thoroughly. The rims of her eyes were jet black, and white teeth were bared as soon as she
smelled the air. Her ears had a thin covering of fur and had begun to stick up further, making her appearance more of a
sinister elf. His eyes glanced towards the cave: the figure was a bear indeed, but the way it stood upright, the way it
walked wasn't as lumbersome as the average bear, but almost as smooth as a humans.
"Michael, meet my mother," Tonya said, her voice changing from innocent
to evil within a matter of seconds. Her ears
grew more leathery and had flopped down at the sides of her head. The fur on her face had grown thicker. Her nose and
mouth had pertruded into an all-out snout, her teeth still bared the same, but her face began to twitch slightly in little
twaings of pain. Her arms and legs began to tear through her clothes, scince they were taking a new shape.
Flea stood there, a silent witness of the transformation, and finally
he ran away while she transformed. He kept running
and running, through the trees, letting the branches whip his face despite the stinging. It didn't matter, he just wanted
to get away from the creatures thet were Tonya and her mother. He could hear them: running after him, smelling the
blood from the wound from the back of his head, licking their lips hungrily.
Flea kept running, faster and faster, his breath whistling in his throat.
Please God, please, he thought, just let me get
out of this alive and I'll never touch another bear. I won't even look at them the same way.
While all of this was happening, John at first, was falling as well.
Falling in blackness. Unlike Flea, he didn't loose
consciesness. He just fell on his back. Fell hard on his back I should say. He closed his eyes, pain roaring in his back. He
sat up slowly. It was a jungle, much like the Amazon.
He blinked and looked around. The heat was unbearable. He wiped the
sweat from his brow and looked around again.
Not a soul in sight. He got to his feet and decided to walk around and find the guys. Then at least he won't be alone.
The walk through the lush tropical plants was one thing, but there was
no civilized trail for him to just prance upon. He'd
have to trailblaze. Picking the easiest and clearest spots, he began his hike. He looked down with every step, carefull
not to step on a snake or oversized bug. Yes, he had seen that South Park episode where they were trapped in the
Amazon and Cartman saved them with a couple of burly men and bulldozers. He was just praying that there was no
midget tribe that wanted to either turn him into soup or offer him as a virgin sacrifice to some big, sweaty male leader.
Virgin my ass, he thought as he grinned. Yeah, he was far from that.
He let out a small snicker and shook his head.
Suddenly, he heard something from behind him. He turned around, but the only thing there was a couple of broken,
waving bushes. He backed away uncertainly and found a piece of wood about the size of a two-by-four. Whatever was
out there, he thought, had better be carefull if it don't want a walloping, and clutched his two-by-four thighter as he
heard that noise from behind him again. He could feel the presence, two eyes set on his back and staring into his neck.
He could almost feel them burn holes into his shirt.
This is it, he thought, and he turned around and swung at whatever was
behind him. Just before the wood could
connect with whatever was on the otherside of him, he stopped. If he wouldn't have stopped, the piece of wood would
have smacked the head of a woman. Yes, this woman looked like a primitive native of some tribe. Her skin was tanned
and her hair was black, wound in dredlocks that had never been properly washed or combed. She wore a black skin of a
panther around her waist and some sort of leather around her chest, held together by green jungle vines.
She looked at him with fear at first, but after he put his piece of
wood down, she looked closer at him, more out of
curiousity than fear. She touched his face and rubbed her hands, as if she expected the white to come off. She ran her
hands along his shaved head, wondering why it was so short. She felt the material of his white T-Shirt, pulling the
elasticy part and letting it go, amazed at this. She kneeled down and felt the edge of his jeans. Standing up again, she
looked at him straight in the eyes and took his hand. She smiled sweetly and lead him through the jungle brush.
All while she was inspecting him, he was expecting something bad to
happen. He was almost expecting her to bite him
in the leg or scratch her face, but now something told him that she was probably just curious and had, most likely, never
seen men like him. She must be taking me back to her tribe, he thought.
Yes, indeed she was. Soon they came to a clearing, but it wasn't at
all clear. Hanging from vines and crudely fastened
were human limbs, some still bloody, some decaying terribly, some were bones and the only skin was the area that was
tied, and even that skin was browned and leathery. He seen her go to a tent made of the same material as her shirt,
and to his horror, seen the skin of several human faces knitted together to create the door. That leather, he thought,
was HUMAN SKIN! She emerged from the tent holding several pieces of flint that had been sharpened so they could slice
through flesh, muscle, and bone with ease. Her eye had a crazy glimmer to it, and she dropped all of the flints except for
one. The flint she saved was about the size of your arm from your middle finger to your shoulder, and sharpened
halfway. The other half was wrapped in the human leather and fastened with thin jungle vines. She held the mini-flint
sword with power, and looked at him with a crazed glimmer in her eye. Yes, her intentions were cruel.
John turned and ran all he could pelt through the trail that was made,
ran past there, and came to a river that was
strong flowing. He knew he had no chance if he jumped in, but then again, would his chances be any better here? He
could hear the girl only four feet away when he leaped into the river, the water warm but violent. He thrashed around,
struggling to keep his head above water. He found a log and pulled himself on in despiration. Clutching the wood and
thanking God, he noticed the waterfall comming straight for him. He looked behind him, and seen that the crazed female
was swimming rapidly and jumped from the water like a trout and onto the log. Her knife was in her mouth, and she
removed it, steadly balancing herself on the log and making her way to John, who was on the other end of the log, the
end closest to the waterfall. He seen the edge and felt the woman grab for his shirt and barely miss. She tried again,
but slipped on the wet material. He tried to protect himself from the woman and her knife, but couldn't protect himself
from the waterfall. He first fell backwards, his hands into the air. He seen the woman leap from her position into the air,
moments before the log splintered on a couple of sharp rocks. She thrusted her arms towards John, and knew whate
she was doing. If she was going to die, she was going to make certain that she was taking John with her. In return, he
closed his limbs into his body, making it hard for her to get to him and made himself freefall faster.
Oh God, he thought, if I get out of this alive, I'll never underestimate the power of a woman.