Crookie
night of the living punk
This is Hawaii.
Where the seagulls and sparrows chirp their symphonies overhead. Where the trees' leaves beckon you and the scent of sweet blossoms drift through the comforting wind. Where the crashing tide kisses the shore and the dazzling waves threaten to pull the surfboard out from under your feet. Where the sand melts between your toes, and home truly feels like home.
Crash down to the center of Oahu Island. A band of teenagers, the majority of such graduating from a thick part of their lives that day, stampede through the downtown streets. Weaving expertly around the mass amount of laughing and awe-struck tourists that the last plane threw up all over the Honolulu capital, these kids make their way out of the crowd in record time. Skidding to a stop on their skateboards and their sandals kicking up dust, they double-over, heaving with laughter and gasping for breath.
Unfolding in front of the gang was a gorgeous stretch of golden sandy beach - the local luxury swimspot. Palm trees framed the scene like it was a photograph on a cheap-ass postcard, but hell - it was home.
Home, however, can get boring after a while. Staring off at the same jutted black-lava mountains through the window, the same blinding yellow and red orchids everywhere, and the same-old-same-old natives pinching at your earlobes tell you to "Stop being so pa'akiki! Be more kahiko and show some respect to your land!"
It's enough to drive me crazy. And that's not just the teenager talking.
We need to find an escape, from paradise.
So, listen up. This is what we have in store.
A few months ago, my kupunawahine died a rather tragic death, but that's not important. What is important is that she left behind a vacation house, that she lived alone in for almost 10 years now. It's completely empty of any living residents there, and it's so secluded that it's not even up for retail.
For the greatest graduation ever, we're going there. The vacation house is all our's.
It's this huge house balanced on the side of a mountain, in a cut-off-from-all-life island in Kauai. I dunno if it even gets mail sent there anymore, but if it does, it's probably by seagull.
We can do whatever the hell we wish at this place, plus we have an entire beach and island to ourselves.
This is going to be the sickest summer ever.
[The low-down.]
Weird stuff has been going on at this beach house. This group of teenagers, high on excitement and freedom, are the least-expecting people to be caught in a crosswind of paranormal activities. From mysterious, pitch-black clouds drifting across the sky, covering the sun and creating lightning, to hearing the sun-faded walls of the beach house whispering to them. Even disgusting, alien-green goo has been washed up upon the shore, radiating and humming with pure crazy.
Being freaked out of their minds, but being too far away to go back home on Honolulu within the next month or so, they are forced to stay at the creepy, poltergeist-ed-house.
Inside the house, thrown aside in the living room, a relatively new-looking newspaper was found. The bold headline announced of a young girl's death, not far off from the teen's current location. The girl had apparently drowned herself, running into the dangerous water, screaming that she had seen a mermaid. A legitimate, real-ass mermaid. Further down the article, it describes that the mermaid has spoken to the girl, tempting her to come underwater to their "secret empire".
Is the long-lost secret City of Atlantis buried underwater, right at this island? Or was that girl just criminally insane? Were all the weird events leading towards this, or are we all just crazy?
Am I crazy for wanting to go find this underwater city myself?
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