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Quickly, I grab my pack and heave it onto my back. This sucks because although I’m an experienced hiker, I didn’t expect to get lost, and especially not after just a few hours in the woods. Even worse, no one’s even going to know I’m missing. Everyone thinks I’ll be gone for a week at a minimum, so I could literally die out here, and they wouldn’t send a search party for at least ten days. By then, my corpse will be a decomposing mess. Oh shit, oh shit. What do I do?
Quickly, I stumble further down the mountain, my knees shaking as my blood pulses.
Stay calm, the voice in my head soothes.You’re fine, Amy. You will find your way out of this.
But I’m panicked now. Somehow, I’ve gone from being angry at my parents, to full-blown anxiety at the situation. My head pounds as my eyes stare around wildly. My feet skitter on the trail as I keep going downhill, almost jogging at this point as loose pebbles tumble down the mountain beneath my feet. What do I do? Oh my god, do I have enough water? I’m feeling parched already. I know I should have brought emergency flares. Cursing under my breath, tears spring to my eyes.
Finally, I come down the mountain to find myself at the edge of a lake. The water is a deep, mysterious blue, and I force myself to close my eyes and just breathe for a moment.
You’ll be fine, the voice in my head murmurs.Take a deep breath. Let the anxiety go.
I open my eyes and will my heartbeat to slow. It helps, and the serene blue of the water soothes my soul. Minnesota is the Land of Ten Thousand Lakes, so it’s not surprising that I’ve come upon an unnamed body of water in the middle of nowhere. In fact, naturalists say that we actually have more than ten thousand lakes. If you counted all lake basins in our great state, including those which are dry, we’d have over twenty thousand lakes. So it’s unsurprising to stumble this mysterious watering spot.
But then, I blink because there’s something in the center of the lake. I squint and try to make out what it is, but it’s hard because the sun’s shining so brightly that the thing out there shimmers like a mirage. But I strain my eyes, and the great thing about being young is that my eyesight is sharp. With a gasp, I realize that there’s an island in the middle of the lake. What the hell? Wow, talk about a surprise. Not only have I stumbled upon a secluded lake in the middle of nowhere, but there’s actually a mysterious island located at the center of it. What’s next? Will a hand bearing a sword rise up from the waves, brandishing Excalibur? Will the lost island of Atlantis rise from the sea, populated by mermen and mermaids? I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised at my discovery, but it feels special because there’s something different about this island. The image of the land mass shimmers in the distance, wavy and indistinct, as if it’s part of a dream.
But then, something astonishing happens. I didn’t know lakes had tides, but it seems that this mysterious body of water is big enough to be affected by gravitational forces. As I stare, the water slowly recedes from the lake shore, revealing a granite causeway. It’s essentially a rock path leading to the island, and it looks manmade. Is this for real? Did someone build this? Are there people on that island?
Suddenly, all of my problems evaporate as I step cautiously onto the causeway. I feel like Dorothy following the Yellow Brick Road as she sets out for Oz because this is an adventure … and I know there’s something better waiting for me on the other side.
4
Amy
The walk over the causeway wasn’t too bad. It was maybe half a mile? Or a whole mile? Usually, I’m pretty good at keeping measure, but the digital watch on my wrist has gone kaput and I have no service on my cell. I might as well be in the wilds of Alaska, I’m so cut off from civilization.
Still, it’s exciting to discover a lost island! I’ve already decided that it’s my secret island, despite the fact that the causeway is obviously manmade. As I set foot onto the dirt shore, I turn to look back over my shoulder, and to my surprise, the tide is already coming in again. What in the world? How did that happen? Tides are caused mostly by the gravitational pull of the moon, so low tide and high tide should be hours apart, at the very least. Yet it feels as if the tides are cycling especially quickly in this mysterious lake. As I watch, the causeway is slowly subsumed by water until it’s submerged once again. It literally disappears from view, and I blink with shock. What is going on?
Even crazier, I suppose I’m trapped on the island now, unless I can find a boat to take me across. I shake my head, suddenly feeling confused. It’s as if I’m living in a movie, and everything’s going in dreamy slow motion. Is this for real? I literally hold a hand up in front of my face to make sure it’s still there. Maybe I’ve turned into a princess, and I’m actually tall, thin, and svelte now, wearing a pink gossamer dress with a golden crown on my head. Woodland animals are going to prance out of the woods to frolic at my feet, while birds land on my shoulder, singing sweetly. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen. Instead, my regular hand is right there in front of my face, complete with grubby, half-bitten nails, dirt caked on my palm, and a plethora of hangnails. Yes, it’s definitely still me.
Hefting my bag over my shoulder, I decide to explore. Maybe I’m not a princess, but I’m Amy Ryan, and I’m in control of my own destiny. Taking a deep breath, I hike into the woods, following what looks to be a deer trail. There are a couple droppings on the side, which is a good sign because it means that animals live here. This island must have edible vegetation and fresh water if animals are able to survive.
Sure enough, after what feels like hours, but is probably only forty-five minutes, I hike to the bank of a babbling brook. The water looks clear and fresh, and I kneel by it, feeling grateful. My throat is parched and while I still have plenty of drinking water, it’ll be nice to replenish my supply. Quickly, I fumble for my thermos when suddenly, something flashes in the corner of my eye. Immediately, I go still. What was that?
My spidey sense tingles, and sensing danger, I back off into the shade of the forest. My feet are silent, and thankfully, there’s no sound of crackling branches or loose stones. Instead, I’m able to disappear into the foliage, even if my backpack is still there by the bank of the river.
The flash comes again, and I realize that there’s a clearing to my left. Not a clearing, actually. It’s just a semi-open space in the center of a ring of trees. Even crazier, there are human figures moving inside. I creep closer, clutching my water bottle to my chest. Are these the people who built the causeway?
But then, my eyes go wide because indeed, there are human beings standing in a circle beneath the canopy of trees. Even crazier, it looks to be an all-male gathering, but these aren’t just average dudes with dad bods and paunchy stomachs. Instead, these men are gorgeous. They’re tall, at least six four or six five, with bronzed skin, broad shoulders, and rugged, masculine features. Even crazier, they’re dressed only in loincloths, revealing taut six packs, as well as strong pecs and powerful arms. They beat on drums while pacing in a circle, humming a mysterious chant.
But that’s when the air in my lungs evaporates because I see that these aren’t normal men, at least not in the way I’ve come to expect. Because as they move in a circle, their loincloths fly up a bit, and I’m able to see clearly what’s underneath. These men have not one dick …but two. All of the men have two appendages swinging to and fro beneath the material of their loincloths, and they’re absolutelyhuge. I can see that some have dual appendages connected to one set of balls, whereas others have two appendages connected to two sets of balls. Some have bulges at the base of their members, and some are gloriously lined with pulsing, throbbing veins. My eyes practically pop out of my head while my knees go weak because it seems I’ve discovered a secret isle of men … all of whom have double-dicks!
5
Drake
We hum and chant while beating on drums, slowly circling in the shade of the forest. The glade is nice. The breeze keeps the air at a comfortably cool temperature, and the trees overhead are giant behemoths, bending towards us as if in benediction. Beside me, the fellow men of Deux continue to hum and chant, their handsome features drawn in concentration.
After all, we’re a secret society that meets on the Isle of Deux. I’m not sure who established the group, or even the history of this sacred island. I just know that we are a community of men with two cocks each – and that we like to gather on occasion in order to swap tales and share war stories.
I know how it sounds: how the fuck did all these guys get two dicks? Where did you come from? Why do you even exist? Alas, the answers aren’t obvious. I’m still learning myself, although of course, I’m aware of the basics.
But all of that is for later. At the moment, my brothers and I are engaged in a ceremony. We’re not worshipping anyone or anything in particular. Instead, we’re trying to attune ourselves to the rhythms of the earth, as corny as that sounds. In particular, as a fisherman, I’m hoping for an enormous haul the next time I’m out on the lake, and if I need to light incense and chant myself hoarse, then so be it.
Perhaps my skepticism is obvious because across the way, Stone catches my eye. He’s a handsome fucker, and the leader of our tribe of double-cocked men. His jaw tightens as he literally glares at me, but I refuse to be cowed. That asshole can glower all he wants. All I care about is the fish, the weather, and my boat. So long as those are in working order, then I’m good to go.
I step forwards, sonorously humming my part of the chant. It’s an atonal melody that’s a little jarring to the ears. Freaky-sounding even. Nonetheless, another voice joins in, and we harmonize for a few bars before moving onto the next stanza.
Suddenly, a crackle disrupts my concentration. I look around, still chanting. Did the other guys hear it? They continue to hum, still singing while beating on their drums. Maybe it was my imagination. But then a few minutes later, during another lull in the music, I hear it again. There’s another sharp crack, and I wonder if it’s an animal lurking in the bushes. But suspicion begins to grow in my chest because that’s unlikely. Generally, wild animals run for their lives when humans are in the vicinity. They’re smart and their instincts tell them that an apex predator is on the prowl. There’s no way a wild animal would voluntarily wander near a circle of loud, noisy men beating on drums.
