Jurassic Park: Instincts

[Nanaya]

(This story has been inspired by the game Trespasser: The Lost World of Jurassic Park. For those of you who haven't played it or heard of it, it's about you taking control of a woman, who got stranded on Site B after her private jet got caught in a storm. If you got through the game, she eventually survives and makes it back to mainland. But she wasn't the only one who had to experience the horrors of Isla Sorna...
The reason I created this is because I got bored...
This story will take place somewhat after the second movie, and the dinosaurs on the island will look like the ones from the first and second movie. If you have any complaints, don't post them please... Enjoy the story!

Chapter 1:
Sleepless Dreams

"That island needs to be destroyed, no matter what."
"You honestly think they'll let us do that? We need more than just a few disappearances to bomb that island. Ingen will slaughter our asses if we try to use that in court."
"But all those innocent people need someone to speak for them!"
"What innocent people? You mean the ones who get shipwrecked and end up on the island?"
"Of course--!"
"Those people shouldn't even go near that island. We put up alerts, we warn them not to go, but they still do."
"But we aren't the ones who try to survive every single goddamn on that island. You haven't been there--"
"And you have?"
"No, I haven't..."
"Then don't talk to me about surviving. Neither one of us knows what they go through in that hell hole."
"Isn't obvious? They run for their lives every day and we aren't doing a damn thing about it!"
"I know. But right now we don't have enough proof. If someone were to be stranded on that island and somehow make their way back to mainland, then their testimony might hold up in court."
"Well I hope so, because Biosyn--"
"Biosyn? You mean Ingen's competitor?"
"Yeah, I heard they might be planning to harvest some of the animals to make another 'Jurassic Park'."
"Christ, if they construct one on mainland, chances are that they'll get free, and countless of people will die..."
"Exactly. You see my point? As long as that island still exist, there isn't going to be a 'tomorrow' for us if we just sit back and watch."
"What about Malcolm and the others?"
"What?"
"You know, Dr. Malcolm's research team. They're the ones who just previously survived Site B along with some hunters."
"All of them were under contract of Ingen. They aren't allowed to testify against the destruction of the island."
"Well then, I hope someone makes it, or else sooner or later, this whole world might be 'Jurassic Park'..."


Dylan dreamed silently on his soft and comfortable bed, tossing and turning as his mind displayed a honorific nightmare.
Dylan kept running and running. He didn't stop to look. He didn't stop to ask what was going on. All he wanted to do was run from the creature chasing him.
Vegetation smacked him in the head and chest countless of times, but he didn't mind them, he just wanted to run.
Suddenly, the who place became dark, the clear jungle seemingly disappear in a sea of blackness as he kept running. Now, it was dark, the moon shining above him ever bright, illuminating light that was just enough for Dylan to see where he was going.
Then, there was no more jungle; all of the reappearing trees came to sudden stop. Dylan braked his run harshly, and barely went over the line that separated the ground he was standing on and the sea out infront of him.
He was standing on the edge of a cliff.
Dylan heard a harsh cry, the cry of a animal in furry. It's rage fueled by bloodlust and hatred for living things.
It kept crying out, the sound getting ever so close.
He was about to die.
The thing is going to kill him.
"Dylan..."
Something called out to him--
"Dylan."
Again, the a soft voice said his name.
So soft that Dylan didn't see the blood-red eyes that were clearly visible beneath the dense bushes.
"Dylan!"
The creature leapt at him, pinning him down. It then started tearing the flesh from his bone, exposing the sickening blood-white texture and gnashing away at his neck that was now bleeding furiously.
He cried out.
Dylan eyes opened wide, his cornea contracting to the sudden light that hit his eyes.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, wetting his pillow, the smell being salty and fresh.
It was just a dream...
He sat up on his bed, wiping the sweat from his face as he did.
He then glanced at his room. He was still in his house, not in the jungle, but in his house.
The blue wallpaper surrounding his room was a pleasant relief to him, as was his soccer posters that were hanged up near his closet and his dresser that held a mirror.
He looked at his clock that stood on his nightstand. It read 7:32.
Ah s***...
He was suppose to get up at 7 o'clock sharp. Even though he had already packed last night, his mom will be ****ed sense he hadn't gotten dressed yet.
Quickly, Dylan threw off his blue texture covers and quickly rifled though his dresser, picking out a white T-shirt with some forest camouflage pants.
As he started to take off his PJs, he heard his mom yell out, "Dylan, are you awake? You better be! If you ain't, you're gonna be grounded once we get to Costa Rica!"
Crap.
Dylan replied, "Yeah, mom. I'm just packing some stuff. I'll be out in a sec'."
Dylan quickly put on his shirt and pants.
He then rushed to his partially opened closet and started searching through his jackets in a rushing manner.
After spending about three seconds searching for his favorite black jacket, he found it and quickly slipped it on.
Finally, he rushed to his door, picking up his black tennis shoes that he always left by his door.
He put them on without even tying them. He was in too much of a hurry to even care.
OK, almost done, just got to get my bag and out we--
As he opened the door, he looked to the right corner of the hall.
This wasn't funny: His bag was gone.
Dammit! I left it right there!
He looked at the left side and it wasn't there to.
If he lost that bag, then he was going to be in some deep--
"Looking for something?"
Dylan looked at his dad. He was standing in the middle in the hallway, with a blue-collared shirt and some dark blue jeans.
Dylan wouldn't consider his dad to be like his mom; his father was more fair to him and most of the time persuaded his mom to lower any punishments she would give him.
Dylan spoke up. "Yeah. Hey, Dad, have you seen a bag--?"
"You mean this one?"
He lifted up his left hand, showing Dylan's bag.
He had it all along.
"Sorry, had ran out of room in mine so I put some of my stuff in yours. You don't mind do you?"
Dylan smiled a bit. "Nah, not at all."
He then walked to his dad and grabbed his bag, lifting the handles over his shoulders so he can carry it on his back.
His dad made a smirked and said, "Don't worry. I won't tell your mother."
Dylan just nodded.
Him and his dad then walked to the down the stairs and out the front door.
There car was parked right outside the garage.
His mom had already packed the remaining bags.
She yelled at both of them. "Hurry up! The sooner we get there, the better!"
To tease her, both of them just walked the car before getting in.
As Dylan buckled himself in the backseat, his mom had already pulled out of the driveway and onto the street. She then turned the car to the right and they started down the road.
Worse vacation ever!

[Lunapocalypse]

I guess all the good stories are made by the people who get bored. It looks like you've written it out in dot point almost, I prefer paragraphal type writing, but that's cool. New styles are always cool.

[Nanaya]

Chapter 2:
Death On Wings

"Flight 180 will be departing soon. Please check in to the admittance area to board."
Dylan took his earplugs and tucked them away in his right pocket.
He had been listening to his Ipod since they got to the airport.
The airport wasn't anything amazing. It was basically a average size airport with glass pastures all around. The north side was home to the landing strips while the south side was home to parking, roads, and other things like that. The only thing cool about his hometown airport was the train that took them from the check in area to the waiting area.
Right now, they were going to Costa Rica to visit his grandparents and to participate in the family reunion at their house.
Dylan liked his grandma a lot. See would always make soup for him or play board games with him or watch television with him. If she was his mother, Dylan would always be happy to come home from school for the rest of his life.
His real mom though treated him as if he was an adult already. His mom and his dad got into an argument because his mom thinks that because he's 15, he should be able to do a lot of work around the house. Which is true, but mom wanted every job to be done perfect.
He didn't mind the chores themselves, he just didn't like how the result has to be 100% perfect.
More like 120% perfect...
Dylan picked up his bag again and lunged it over his shoulders before grabbing his dad's suitcase.
Him and his parents made their way to the 180gate and checked with the attendant before heading into the gate and into the plane.
The plane itself was pretty big. There were three classes, each one having a significant amount of advantages than the previous class. There were six bathrooms in total, which meant they probably won't get jammed up with people. And, they had a average selection of food.
Since his parents were both doctors, they get a lot of money. So, they were able to pay for First Class.
At least that's one good thing about this flight.
Dylan despised flying. Numerous of times how he hated to wait to get to their destination, and plenty of times has he received stomach problems from the moving of the plane. This was no different. He wanted to get off this plane as soon as it had landed.
After finding their seats near the front, Dylan's parents, as well as himself, put their luggage in the shelves above their seats. It took them about two minutes before they were able to sit down and relax.
Dylan did as well, only though he pulled out his earplugs from his pocket and locked them into his ear. With his Ipod now in his hand, he switched to the song "Bleeding Mascara" as the flight attendant announced the safety regulations and protocols over the airplane's integrated speakers that surrounded the whole plane.
Dylan didn't hear though, he was too busy listening to his music while closing his eyes. He yawned silently before resting his back on the seat's headrest.
As he was halfway into his song, he felt the all too familiar feeling of a plane moving. He hated that feeling; it made him want to vomit.
As the plane undocked from the gateway, it backed up while turned to the to enter the landing strip. It made its way through twists and turns as it lined itself up with the take-off strip.
At first, the plane started to move forward at the same speed. But then, it started to move faster and faster.
s***.
This was the part that Dylan hated the most: Taking off.
Eventually, the plan sped up to the point were the pilots lifted to aircraft off the group and into the blue sky.
Dylan tried to relax. His stomached ached at the feeling of the plane going up. It was like nails inside your stomach, stabbing at you from the inside each second. And the only way to get rid of it was to wait.
The plane kept going up. Even though it was only a short duration, it felt like forever to Dylan. His stomach churned a bit, but Dylan showed no sign of it to his parents.
After a long pain-staking flight up, the plane finally settled down and continued to fly straight.
Dylan kept his eyes closed the whole time. He didn't want to show his parents the nervousness he had. But as the plane flew straight and calmly, Dylan opened his eyes again and sighed in relief.
He opened his eyes and stared out of the window to the left of him. Below him lied the island of Oahu, his home island.
When Dylan was three, his parents were offered to work at a hospital in Oahu for more money than their previous hospital. His parents bought themselves a really nice house and filled it with a lot of decorations and furniture. though Dylan was given a lot of stuff, he wasn't spoiled. He would only get toys or other things when he was being a really good kid. Now though, he pays for his own stuff, including video games, computer, TV, and more. Dylan affords all this because he has a job at a IMAX theater. Since then, he has been able to buy his own stuff without his parent's help.
Dylan was already bored from the flight.
He asked his mom, "How long is flight again, Mom?"
She replied, "About three or four hours. Just listen to your Ipod and go to sleep. We'll be there before you know it."
That's what I was gonna do in the first place.
He just nodded and closed his eyes once more.
As he did, his Ipod started to play "The Shooting Stat That Destroyed the World".
His eyes started to become heavy and his breathe rate slowed down a bit. His mind started decrease his alertness and feelings, slowly putting him into a really good sleep.
Again he dreamed, but it wasn't a nightmare. It was more exciting, more adventurous.
Dylan loaded a clip into his .357 Desert Eagle and stood up, exposing himself from his cover. He fired three rounds at a number a terrorist that was shooting at him. The rounds tore through him like paper as he fell backward and died.
Another one came from behind him, trying to choke him to death. Dylan kicked the man's right shin with his right foot. The terrorist stumbled back in pain.
Dylan then executed a series of well placed punches to the stomach, before front-kicking the terrorist in the head. The man flew back from the blow, his neck making a cracking sound while he did.
Another one came out of the shadows and shot a single 5.56mm round from his M4. As the bullet neared, time started to slow down, giving Dylan the advantage to dodge the bullet--
Everything seemed to jerk all of the sudden.
Time started again and the bullet hit Dylan in the chest--
Dylan felt another jerk as he awoke from his sleep.
There was commotion around as the plane kept jerking, as if the aircraft was being manipulated.
Dylan looked out the window and saw why: The plane was flying in a storm.
The storm they were in was just like the movies. Black clouds that look like the Devil blew himself, white lightning the flashed the dark skies, and illuminating only more darkness. They whole storm seemed to be a monster, like the one in his dreams, trying to engulf him and everyone aboard the plane.
Oh, no...
The plane rocked once more, but more violently. Everyone started to scream, his parents didn't though. They just held Dylan close while the plane kept rocking.
Then, the pilot came on the speakers.
"Everyone, we are experiencing a storm here! Fasten you seat belts and hang on! We're gonna try to get us out of here!"
The pilots voice was somewhat panicky, but not fully.
Dylan's father held Dylan close and spoke into his ear, "Son, listen to me! If we crash and start to sink, get out of the plane without us and find something to stay a float!"
Dylan couldn't believe what his father was saying. They couldn't crash, it's not suppose to happen.
Dylan thought about the monster in his dreams. This was the monster. The storm was the creature. He was the prey.
It killed him in his dreams, and it now it wanted to kill him for real.
The plane suddenly started diving, heading toward the ocean as everyone around him screamed and cried out.
Dylan's life flashed before his eyes, as if it were a movie, only that it happened in a blink of an eye.
He started to cry. The fear of dying was already enough, but the thought of his parents being killed too was simply too much.
Tears started to trickle down his face, the fear overwhelming him as did the storm did to the plane. This fear was more than just being afraid. It was cold and withering. Like a rush of arctic wind that made you stiff as it touched your bare skin.
It was Death.
Suddenly, the plane came to a sudden stop. A thundering sound was heard as the aircraft hit the water. Dylan jerked forward as well, but his seat belt painfully kept him from flying out of his seat.
His vision blurred. Everything becoming suddenly silent.
Dylan fumbled for his buckle.
He finally found it and pressed it, releasing himself from his seat.
Dylan noticed that everyone was in a frenzy now. People were trying to get out, but the emergency exits couldn't open due to the pressure of the water pressing against them.
Also, water started to pour in from the front as the plane tipped forward, making matters all only worse.
Dylan rose to his feet and edged out of his row.
Looking at his parents, he waited for them to unbuckle themselves, but they were having trouble with them. They've jammed somehow.
Dylan thought again how Death was going to kill them. Would it be by drowning in here? Or will it be by being crushed by the sea water once they reach a certain depth?
As if it was some deadly joke, the plane seemingly started to break apart above his head.
Water rained down on Dylan, knocking him to the ground while other debris flew around.
Dylan rolled away from the rushing water and stood up, trying to keep his balance from the rushing crowd.
Again, he looked at his parents.
His dad looked back at him angrily and said, "Get the f**k out of here, Dylan! Get off of this plane, dammit!"
Dylan stood blankly at his father.
Tears formed in his eyes again.
If he left them, they would certainly die. If he didn't, they might make it, but if they don't, all of them will die--
Dylan felt a cold and hard object hit him in the head above as the plane finally tore apart.
The next thing Dylan felt was the cold salty water hitting his face and the familiar feeling of tiredness as it engulfed him, forcing him to sleep while he knew he'll be helpless to do anything.

[Nanaya]

Chapter 3:
The Cast Away

The screams of everyone aboard the plane filled Dylan's ears. The crying souls that begged for a second chance to live, but it was to late. They were already marked for death, and Death was going to take them. They kept screaming.
Dylan didn't scream, but instead, he cried. He cried for all those people who died in that plane, whether it was drowning or being killed by a part of the plane. It didn't matter; he just cried. He even cried for his parents. His loving parents that he knew he'll never see them again. Their smiling faces of joy turned into a horrified expression as they drowned inside the airplane. They would scream for Dylan, screaming for him so he can get out of the plane. But Dylan knew he would die; there was no point of resisting.
Cold water covered him as he slowly fell to the depths of the ocean, only to be lost in a aquatic world. He slowly opened his eyes, the salt water burning them. He didn't care though, he was already in pain. The pain of loss.
There, above him, was the plane. Sinking slowly while fire danced atop of it, only to be burned out as the water cooled its fuel source. He also saw the bodies of the passengers. They either swayed with the water's fierce waves or they'd sank beneath the blue liquid and into the oceans depths.
Dylan was about to become one of them. Soon, he will become just another casualty of a "horrible accident". He closed his eyes and waited for his heart to give out. He could even feel the water in his lungs, poisoning him as if it were a deadly virus. And like a deadly virus, it slowly started to kill him. His body relaxed and his mind grew numb.
This was it.
He was about to die.
He was going to be with his--
"Dylan..."
Dylan held himself from dying for a brief second to figure out the voice.
"Dylan..."
Again, the voice, but it wasn't sweet, it was more deep, like his..
"Dylan! Stay afloat!"
It was his father, telling him to live.
He was right, Dylan shouldn't just give up because he didn't want to fight it. He should keep on going, no matter what.
Suddenly, his lungs filled with air.
Not water but air.
He knew he only had a couple of seconds. So he swam.
He swam to the surface, trying to reach the boundary that could possibly mean life or death. But the surface was far, as if it were 50 feet away. But Dylan didn't care; he wouldn't give up. He swam with all his might, desperately trying to reach "God's lifeline".
Twenty feet.
He was almost there.
Ten feet.
It was just a bit more.
Five feet.
He was going to make.
Surprisingly, as his right hand made it to the surface, a white light blinded him.
The light called out to him.
Again, it was his father.
"Wake up, Dylan."
He didn't know what it meant. Dylan was in the ocean, he couldn't have been sleeping.
"Wake up, Dylan."
He still didn't understand.
But, his body started to feel tired again, and his eyes shut close. If he was sleeping, then how could he be alive?
"Wake up..."
Dylan heard the soft cries of birds--
Not, not birds. Sea gules...
He opened his eyes to see a towering figure above him. Though it was not human; it was only a rock. A huge brown rock thats texture was rough and smooth at the same time.
Dylan realized he was laying on his side.
He felt a warm liquid pass from his feet, to his legs, then to his waist.
He sat up quickly and saw that a wave just past over him. The warm and salty water rushed to meet his body before being swallowed back up by the open ocean that lied before Dylan.
Dylan stared out at the ocean, shocked at where he was. He was on a beach. Not in the water but the beach. He must have drifted to land when he was unconscious.
It was old though.
In his dream, it felt real, as he really heard his father's voice calling out to him.
It was strange.
Dylan slowly got up, using his arms to push himself off the ground. As he gain his footing, he felt pain on his right leg. He looked down and saw that his leg had been cut by a rock or something.
Must have gotten it when I was drifting...
In any case, he was fine.
He had to get help.
He had to tell someone about the accident.
He was lucky that he got to shore. Most storms occur out at sea, away from shores or coastlines. Out of all the people who boarded that plane, he was the only person who made it out.
He thought about his parents again, how they died on the plane. He didn't see it himself, but he knew that they drowned. He would've done something about it, but he was knocked out cold. He couldn't shed tears now though, he needs to find a cop or a lifeguard and get a search party to find the plane.
Again, Dylan looked at his surroundings. The place seemed...wild. Like there hasn't been any construction.
He turned around for the first time and saw a dense jungle of green vegetation. It started thin and shallow at first; being much more easier to see in the front. But as it got deeper, the jungle seem to occupy every space there was.
It was more like an island than it being Costa Rica. He must have drifted to one of the islands of Hawaii. It would explain why the flight didn't seem very long before they crashed.
But then again, how come the airport didn't know about it? They would've canceled the flight.
It seemed strange, but if anything, he must been in Costa Rica. It was the only explanation. But the vegetation said otherwise. Still, he has to get help if he wants to find his parents. There was a chance that they could've made it out.
It was decided; Dylan was going to find help, even if he has to go through this jungle.
He proceeded forward, with no mind of where he was going. Every time he would take a step, he would hear and feel the water in his shoe make a squishing sound as his foot moved the liquid around. It was one of the things that irritated him. Ontop of that, his clothes were wet, including his boxers, which was really uncomfortable. His eyes were also red from being exposed to the salt water out at sea. The redness died down, but it was still visible to anyone who can see. Finally, he was exhausted from this adventurous day. He can even see that the sun was about to set over the horizon.
Eventually, Dylan found a large dirt road that led to a cement road after about twenty feet. Suddenly energized with relief, he ran to the road, hoping he might see a shop or car or a person. To his disappointment, he only saw that that the cement road only went on about thirty feet before it changed into another dirt road, this time in the shape of tire tracks.
I must be in the country side or something...
There was also a good-sized shack next to the road. It looked like it held tools. There was also a truck by it, but it looked old and broken, so he probably won't be able to start it.
Again, Dylan looked at the sky. Nighttime was just around the corner. He need to find shelter. The shack would be suitable, but he still need to find something warm if he wanted to sleep for the night. He went to the truck and opened the passenger side door. It creaked as he swung it open. On the seat lied a small cage--probably for an animal--and a blanket underneath it. He didn't know why it was there, but he took the blanket and left the cage where it was.
Dylan then went to the shed and opened it. Since it was nearly dark, he could see anything but shelves lined around the walls of the inside. It was made of wood, so it would do a good job keeping him warm, at least for the night.
So Dylan just lied down on his side, pulled the blanket over him, and started think about his parents again. Tears formed in his eyes again, for now, he's all alone with no one to help him.