Drotastea: Our Class Trip Ended In Alien Hell

The storm hit them like a fist.

One moment the lake was merely black and forbidding—the next, it erupted into chaos. Wind screamed across the water, driving sheets of rain that struck like needles even through their suits. The rafts bucked and plunged, rubber flexing dangerously with each wave that crashed over them.

Reed's hands were numb on the paddle, each stroke a battle against nature itself. The raft pitched violently, nearly vertical for a terrifying moment before slamming back down. Water poured over the sides, pooling around their knees.

"Bail!" he screamed to Sasha, who fumbled for anything that could move water. She ended up using her helmet, scooping desperately as more waves crashed in.

Lightning split the sky, turning night to blinding day for a heartbeat. In that instant, Reed saw the second raft spinning wildly twenty meters away, Felix and Leo fighting to control it. Yasmine was clutching the side, her face a mask of terror. Then darkness swallowed them again, leaving only the afterimage burned into Reed's retinas.

Thunder followed immediately, so loud it felt like a physical blow. The sound reverberated through Reed's chest, making his teeth ache. This wasn't like storms on New Florida, contained and predictable within the station's atmospheric systems. This was raw, primordial fury.

"There!" Margaretta screamed over the howling wind, pointing through the rain. "Island!"

Reed squinted through the driving rain, seeing nothing but walls of water. Then another lightning flash illuminated it—a dark hump of land materializing from the chaos, perhaps two hundred meters away. It looked impossibly small, a rocky outcrop crowned with twisted trees, waves crashing against its shores with explosive force.

"Paddle!" Reed roared, though his arms already felt like molten lead. "Everyone paddle!"

They dug deep, fighting for every meter. The current seemed determined to sweep them past the island into the endless darkness beyond. Reed's muscles screamed in protest, but the alternative—being lost on this vast alien lake in a storm—drove him forward.

Another lightning strike, closer this time. The thunder was instantaneous, deafening. In that split second of illumination, Reed saw something that made his heart leap: a structure among the trees. Angular, artificial. A building.

"There's shelter!" he shouted. "A cabin or something!"

The wind tried to tear the words from his mouth. Rain hammered down so hard it was difficult to breathe. Every wave that crashed over them felt like it might be the one to finally flip the raft.

Fifty meters. Reed could make out the island's shape now, a dark mass against the marginally lighter sky. The waves were even worse here, crashing against the rocky shore and rebounding in chaotic patterns. Their raft spun like a leaf in a drain.

"Brace for impact!" someone screamed—maybe Juno.

The raft hit the rocks with crushing force. Reed felt himself launched forward, his knee cracking against stone. Water exploded around him, trying to drag him back into the lake's hungry depths. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the slick rocks, fingernails scraping.

A hand grabbed his suit's collar—Luca, hauling him higher onto the shore. Reed turned back, grabbing the raft's rope, pulling with everything he had left. Waves tried to suck it back, but Juno was there too, and together they dragged it up the rocky slope.

"The other raft!" Sasha pointed through the storm.

Felix and Leo were fighting to beach their raft ten meters away. A massive wave lifted them, and for a terrifying moment Reed thought they'd be dashed against the rocks. But Leo jumped at the last second, landing hard but managing to grab the rope. He and Felix hauled desperately as Yasmine and Liyen scrambled out.

"Supplies!" Reed shouted. "Grab everything!"

They formed a chaotic chain, passing waterproof bags and equipment up the slope. The rain was blinding, turning the world into a hellscape of water and wind. Every flash of lightning revealed snapshot scenes—Margaretta stumbling under the weight of a supply bag, Felix dragging a raft higher, Juno counting heads with frantic gestures.

Reed's flashlight beam cut through the rain, illuminating their destination. The structure resolved into a two-story cabin, weathered but miraculously intact. The walls were some kind of polymer composite, streaked with bioluminescent moss that pulsed faintly in the darkness. A metal door hung askew on corroded hinges, black emptiness beyond.

"Inside!" Reed gestured frantically. "Move!"

They stopped at the threshold, water streaming from their suits. The darkness beyond the doorway seemed to breathe, black and absolute.

"Wait," Felix said, grabbing Reed's arm. "What if there's something in there? Like what got Kye?"

The memory of the Odyssey's blood-painted interior flashed through Reed's mind. Those claw marks. The casual brutality of dismembered bodies. His hand moved instinctively to the plasma cutter on his belt.

"We can't stay out here," Reed said, though his voice shook. "The storm will kill us."

"The storm's not what tore Kye in half," Sasha whispered.

Reed forced himself to think past the fear. The creature—or creatures—that had attacked the shuttle had come from the forest. This was an island, surrounded by water.

"Listen," he said, raising his voice over the wind. "Whatever killed them would have to swim here. Cross open water. And this place has been abandoned for years—look at it."

"That doesn't mean it's empty now," Yasmine said.

"No," Reed admitted. "But we're dead for sure if we stay out here." He pulled out his flashlight, the beam cutting into the darkness. "We go in together. Check every corner. If there's something in there..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

They crashed through the doorway in a tight group, flashlights swinging wildly. The sudden absence of wind was disorienting—Reed's ears rang in the relative quiet, though rain still hammered the roof above.

"Lights," he gasped. "Everyone, lights on. Stay together."

Beams crisscrossed in the darkness, revealing a large open space. Metal floors were pocked with rust but solid. Empty shelves lined one wall, and corroded fixtures suggested this had once been some kind of storage area. A narrow staircase led up into darkness.

Reed's heart hammered as they moved through the space, checking behind every piece of debris, every shadow that could hide something with claws and teeth. But there was nothing—just rust stains and abandonment.

"Check upstairs," Reed said, trying to control his breathing. "All of us. Nobody goes alone."

They climbed the stairs in a tight cluster, flashlights creating dancing shadows on the walls. Reed led, plasma cutter in one hand, flashlight in the other. Every creak of metal made them freeze.

The upper floor opened into a single room. Their lights swept across it—empty, just like below. Old metal bed frames. Rusted fixtures. No blood. No claw marks. No signs of violence.

"It's empty," Juno breathed, relief evident in her voice.

"See?" Reed said, though his legs were shaking. "Island. Isolated. Whatever's out there, it's not here."

"How can you be sure?" Leo asked.

Reed moved to the window, peering out at the storm-lashed water. "Because if that thing could swim, why would it stay on the mainland? Why not spread to every shore?" He turned back to them. "I think we're safe here. At least from that."

They exchanged glances, fear slowly giving way to exhaustion. Reed's gamble made sense, even if none of them wanted to test it.

"Okay," Reed said, surprising himself with how steady his voice sounded. "We stay here tonight. Everyone upstairs."

They hauled their supplies up, legs trembling with exhaustion. The upper floor was smaller but felt safer somehow—being above ground level gave Reed a primitive comfort. Old metal frames that might once have been beds lined one wall. A window looked out over the lake, rain driving through the glassless opening in sheets.

"Get these shutters closed," Reed ordered, spotting metal panels beside the window. They were corroded but functional. Leo and Yasmine wrestled them into place, cutting off the worst of the rain. Small gaps remained, but it was a vast improvement.

"Jesus," Felix breathed, slumping against the wall. "That was..."

"Insane," Luca finished. "Completely insane."

Now that they were relatively safe, Reed could see how bad they all looked. Soaked despite their suits' water resistance, shaking with cold and exhaustion. Liyen sat in the corner, knees drawn to her chest, staring at nothing. Sasha was crying quietly, the adrenaline crash hitting her hard.

"Emergency blankets," Margaretta said, already digging through their supplies. "Everyone needs to get warm."

They spread out across the floor, peeling off the outer layers of their suits with numb fingers. The emergency blankets crinkled loudly as they wrapped themselves, huddling together for warmth. Reed positioned himself by the window, peering through a gap in the shutters.

Lightning illuminated the lake in snapshot moments. The island was small—maybe a hundred meters across at its widest point. From this elevated position, he could see most of it. Twisted trees bent nearly horizontal in the wind, and waves crashed endlessly against the rocky shores. But the cabin was solid, and they were above the water line.

"I'll keep watch," Reed said, though exhaustion pulled at him like lead weights.

"Reed," Margaretta said gently. "You need sleep too. We all do."

"Someone should stay awake. In case—"

"In case what?" Juno interrupted. "If something comes, it has to cross open water to reach us. We'll hear it. We'll see it. Plus, you look like you're about to pass out."

She was right. Reed's eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and his thoughts were becoming fuzzy around the edges. When was the last time he'd really slept? Before the crash? That felt like a lifetime ago.

"Just for a few hours," he conceded, settling against the wall where he could still see out the window. "Wake me if anything—"

"We will," Margaretta assured him. "Rest."

The others arranged themselves across the floor, nine teenagers huddled together on an alien world while the storm raged outside. Reed listened to the rain hammering the roof, the wind howling through the trees. Beside him, Leo was already snoring softly. On his other side, Juno's breathing had deepened into sleep.

Small island, Reed thought hazily. Water on all sides. We can see anything coming. Safe. We're safe for now.

His eyelids drooped. Through the gap in the shutters, lightning painted the world in stark contrasts—black water, white foam, the twisted silhouettes of alien trees. Thunder rolled endlessly, but it was becoming almost soothing, a rhythm that pulled him toward unconsciousness.

Just for a moment, he told himself. Just close my eyes for a moment...

The last thing he saw before sleep took him was a flash of lightning reflecting off the lake's surface, turning it into a mirror of the angry sky.

Reed woke to silence and gray light.

For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. His neck ached from sleeping propped against the wall, and his mouth tasted like copper and ash. Then memory crashed back—the shuttle crash, Kye's mangled body, their desperate flight across the lake.

He sat up slowly, joints protesting. Weak sunlight filtered through the shutter gaps, painting thin lines across the floor. The storm had passed, leaving behind an eerie quiet broken only by gentle lapping sounds.

The others were beginning to stir. Juno stretched beside him, wincing as her back popped. Felix sat up abruptly, eyes wild until he remembered where they were. One by one, they emerged from sleep like survivors from a shipwreck—which, Reed supposed, they were.

"Morning," Juno said, though the word felt wrong. Was it morning? This planet's day-night cycle was still a mystery.

"Is everyone okay?" Reed asked, doing a quick headcount. Eight faces looked back at him—tired, scared, but alive. Liyen was curled in the corner, emergency blanket pulled over her head.

Reed stood, working the kinks from his spine, and pushed open the shutters.

He froze.

"Oh, shit."

Where last night there had been rocky shore extending at least thirty meters from the cabin, now there was only water. The lake had risen dramatically, swallowing all but the highest point of the island. Dark water lapped at the cabin's foundation, maybe two meters below their window. The twisted trees he'd seen last night were partially submerged, their crowns forming small islands of vegetation.

"Guys," he said slowly, his voice sounding strange in his own ears. "We have a problem."

They crowded to the window, gasps and curses filling the air as they took in their transformed surroundings.

"It's a tidal island," Margaretta breathed, her scientific mind already working. "The storm surge, or maybe this planet has extreme tides based on its moon..."

"We're trapped," Yasmine said, voice rising toward panic. "We're trapped here!"

"The water will go back down," Reed said, trying to inject confidence he didn't feel into his voice. "Tides go out, right? We just wait—"

A strangled cry cut him off.

They spun toward the sound. In the corner, Liyen's emergency blanket was thrashing violently. Sasha reached for it, pulling it back to reveal Liyen in the grip of a massive seizure.

Her body was rigid as iron, back arched at an impossible angle. Pink foam frothed from her mouth, and her eyes had rolled back to show only whites. Her hands were clawed, fingers bent in unnatural positions, and her heels drummed against the metal floor in a horrible staccato rhythm.

"Seizure!" Juno dropped beside her. "Help me turn her! She'll choke!"

Reed grabbed Liyen's shoulders while Juno took her legs, trying to roll her onto her side. But her muscles were locked so tight it was like trying to bend steel. The seizure intensified, Liyen's body slamming against the floor with sickening force.

"Hold her head!" Margaretta commanded. "She's going to crack her skull!"

Felix cradled Liyen's head, trying to cushion it as her body convulsed. The foam from her mouth was more red than pink now—she was biting through her tongue. The metallic smell of blood filled the air.

"How long do seizures last?" Leo asked, voice high with panic.

"Usually just a minute or two," Margaretta said. But the convulsions went on and on. Three minutes. Four. Five.

"This isn't normal," Juno said. "Something's really wrong."

Liyen's face was turning blue despite their efforts to keep her airway clear. Her convulsions became more violent, limbs flailing with inhuman strength. Felix cried out as her arm caught him across the face, sending him sprawling.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped.

Liyen went completely limp, like a marionette with cut strings. The silence that followed was deafening.

"Is she...?" Sasha couldn't finish the question.

Juno pressed fingers to Liyen's neck, searching for a pulse. Her face went pale. "She's not breathing."

"CPR!" Margaretta shoved Juno aside, positioning herself over Liyen. She started chest compressions with textbook precision. "Come on, come on!"

Reed tilted Liyen's head back, clearing her airway while Margaretta pumped. After thirty compressions, he pinched Liyen's nose and breathed into her lungs. Once. Twice. Then back to compressions.

They fell into the rhythm, switching positions when their arms tired. The others watched in horrified silence, some crying, others praying to whatever might be listening. But Liyen remained still, her skin growing colder and grayer with each passing minute.

After twenty minutes, Margaretta sat back on her heels, tears streaming down her face. "She's gone," she whispered. "She's been gone since... We can't bring her back."

"No," Sasha said, dropping beside Liyen's body. "No, she can't be... We were just talking yesterday. She was scared about her parents not knowing where she was, and I told her..." She broke down sobbing.

Reed stared at Liyen's still form, feeling something cold and hard crystallize in his chest. Seventeen years old. She'd never see eighteen. Never graduate, never go to university, never fall in love or have her heart broken or any of the thousand experiences that should have been her birthright.

Nine had become eight.

"What do we..." Leo's voice cracked. "What do we do with her?"

They all looked at Liyen's body, then at each other. The reality of their situation crashed down with brutal clarity. They were trapped in a small cabin on a flooded island. The air was already starting to smell of death.

"We can't keep her here," Felix said quietly. "It's not... it's not safe. For any of us."

"We can't just throw her away!" Sasha protested, clutching Liyen's cold hand.

"We don't have tools to dig," Margaretta said, ever practical even through her tears. "The ground outside is solid rock. And with the water this high..."

"The water," Reed said, hating himself for the words even as he spoke them. "We have to put her in the water."

"Reed!" Yasmine looked horrified.

"I don't like it either," Reed said, his voice hollow. "But we can't bury her. We can't burn her. We can't keep her here. The water... at least it's clean. Natural."

"It's not right," Sasha whispered.

"Nothing about this is right," Reed replied. "But we have to—"

"I know," Sasha interrupted. "I know. I just... I hate this. I hate all of this."

They wrapped Liyen in her emergency blanket, trying to give her some dignity in death. Reed helped secure the edges, his hands shaking. They formed a circle around her, eight teenagers far from home, saying goodbye to one of their own.

"Does anyone want to say something?" Reed asked.

"She liked to draw," Yasmine offered, voice thick. "She was always sketching in her notebooks. Buildings, mostly. She wanted to be an architect."

"She gave me half her ration bar yesterday," Leo added. "Said I looked hungry."

"She was scared," Juno said quietly. "We all are. But she didn't complain. She was brave."

They stood in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Reed and Felix lifted Liyen's wrapped form, carrying her to the window. The dark water below looked infinite, alien, waiting.

"We commend Liyen Chen to the depths," Reed said, the formal words feeling strange on his tongue. "May she find peace, and may her family somehow know she was loved."

They lowered her carefully through the window. For a moment, Reed held onto the blanket, reluctant to let go. Then he released it.

The orange emergency blanket hit the water with barely a splash, floating on the dark surface. For three heartbeats, it drifted peacefully.

Then the water exploded.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of silvery shapes burst from below, churning the water into a frenzy. Reed caught glimpses of them in the chaos: fish-like but wrong, with too many eyes clustered on their heads, mouths full of needle teeth, bodies segmented like insects. They tore at the blanket with savage efficiency, shredding it in seconds.

The water turned red.

Sasha screamed, a sound of pure horror that seemed to go on forever. Leo turned and vomited over the floor, his whole body shaking. Yasmine had both hands pressed to her mouth, eyes wide with shock.

The feeding frenzy lasted less than a minute. When the creatures finally dispersed, there was nothing left. Not even scraps of blanket. The water smoothed back to its dark, placid surface, hiding its horrors once more.

"Get back," Reed said, his voice barely a whisper. "Everyone away from the windows. Now."

They retreated to the center of the room, as far from the water as possible. Reed's mind raced, putting together pieces of a terrible puzzle. The empty cabin. The small island with no wildlife. The extreme tides.

"That's why nothing lives here," he said, voicing what they were all thinking. "When the tide comes in, it brings those things with it. Anything caught on the island when the water rises..."

"Gets eaten," Felix finished.

They huddled together in horrified silence. Outside, the water lapped gently at the cabin's foundation. Reed could swear he saw shadows moving just below the surface—patient, waiting.

"We can't leave," Margaretta said unnecessarily. "Not until the tide goes out."

"When will that be?" Yasmine demanded, edge of hysteria in her voice.

"I don't know," Margaretta admitted. "Tides on places like Earth are about six hours. But this planet... it could be longer. Much longer."

"So we just sit here?" Luca's fists were clenched. "Just wait and hope the water goes down before we run out of food? Before those things figure out how to get up here?"

"The cabin's solid," Reed said, trying to project calm. "We're safe as long as we stay inside and above the water."

But even as he said it, he heard the lie in his own voice. They weren't safe. They were trapped in a box, surrounded by carnivorous horrors, on a planet that wanted them dead.

Unable to sit still, Reed began searching the cabin more thoroughly. The others watched listlessly as he opened corroded cabinets and checked under rusted fixtures. On the third try, his fingers found something—a sealed plastic folder wedged behind a fallen shelf.

His hands trembled as he pulled it free. The plastic had protected its contents from years of weather. Inside was a laminated sheet, crisp and clean as the day it was made.

A map.

Reed unfolded it carefully, spreading it on the floor where everyone could see. Topographical lines spider-webbed across the surface, showing elevation changes, water features, landmarks. His eyes tracked across it, taking in the scope of what they faced.

There—a blue area that must be the lake. And there, a tiny dot on its surface that could only be their island. But what made his blood run cold was what lay beyond: kilometers of forest, mountain ranges, and scattered across it all like cancerous growths, red X marks.

Each X had a label: "Forward Operating Base 7." "Research Station Gamma." "Quarantine Zone Delta."

And in the corner, Strategic Corporation's logo gleamed in faded red ink.

Reed's finger traced the route from their island to the nearest marked location. Through forest. Over ridges. Past areas ominously marked "RESTRICTED - BIOHAZARD."