The Ring
Vampire  Vampire_Lamia@yahoo.co.uk 
Husband and wife in an uninhabited island!


It had been 23 years since they had been surviving on this uninhabited island.
John and his wife Olivia were amongst seven people who had survived a Plane
crash in 1980. The plane had taken off from Australia for Chile, but as Fate
would have it, it developed a technical snag and plummeted down in the Ocean.
Off 200 odd, only seven swam to safety, and landed on this unforgiving island.

They started by making fire and ended by constructing a medium-sized, but a
very strong house, cause wood was in abundance. There were lots of fruit
bearing trees as well, which kept them alive, and surprisingly lot of small
animals whose number never seemed to diminish. In three years, they had
started farming, and meat became a major part of their daily diet. After
multiple failed attempts to raft across, they gave up hopes and accepted their
fate. Winters were rough, but none as fatal as the one in 1985. Four of them
died the same year, and the only other woman a year later.

Then to the couple's delight, winters grew slightly mild. Their son was 10
when the plane crash happened and they used to miss him a lot, but time is a
great healer. Olivia had been sterilized soon after their son was born, and
hence they were unable to reproduce.

John was 30 while Olivia was 28 when they had met with the accident. Now 23
years later, they were both in their 50s, when once again the winter became
deadly after two long decades.

John got up from his chair and went towards the window in their living room.
'God knows, when this goddamned winter will be over!'

'Yeah, it has been two weeks now, that it has been snowing.' Olivia commented.
She was thin but wiry and was two inches taller than her husband who was a bit
plump and weighed 75 kilos and stood 5'9. Despite being a woman, she was the
one who did most of the manual work. Over the years, they had ceased loving
each other. Sex had stopped 10 years ago. Now they were just glad that there
was someone else on this island. John had started sleeping in the living room,
while Olivia always slept in the only other room, which had a wooden cot.

'How cold do you think, it is outside?'

'At least, 10 below.' John replied. 'And the howling wind would blow even a
stag away.'

'Would you bring some wood from outside? I've already done it thrice today,
and am a bit tired.'

John grumbled but walked towards the door. Olivia followed him. As John opened
the door, he could feel the sting of a million needles on his body. The wind
would have almost blown him away, if he hadn't braced himself. Two thick
ropes, two feet apart were tied to the twin pillars on their porch, and their
ends were fastened to another twin poles in the barn. The ropes guided him
till there, but the wind was so fierce that twice he lost his footing whilst
trudging across the 20 yard distance towards the barn. Once inside he picked
up a bundle of firewood, and held it close to his chest. It took him 15
minutes to return to the house. He banged on the door savagely till the Olivia
opened it; her strong fingers tightly clutching the door handle. He couldn't
feel his limbs till the time she shut the door.

'We have enough wood to last us at least two days.' She said.

John just nodded and sat down next to the fire. 'I can't feel my fingers.'

'Here, give them to me,' she said sitting down infront of him, on the floor.
She rubbed his hand between her two hands and rubbed. After a minute, John
could feel the hard, tough palms of his wife, as the feeling returned.

'Thanks.' He said pulling away his hands.

The room was pretty warm by now. Olivia rose and removed her hand-made leather
shawl. She was wearing a torn Tee shirt underneath, which was almost in
shreds. Her clothes had barely survived the two long decades. They were able
to extract two bags full of clothes from the ocean, cause some parts of the
aircraft was lying at the bottom of the nearby waters.

John stared at her wife's arms. They were not extremely thick, but on her thin
frame, they appeared just a little beefy. Her arm muscles had hardened due to
years of hard labour in the island. She was facing him as she tied her hair
back, and he could see shoulders hardening, her biceps swelled incredulously.
He was taken aback by her large muscular biceps. He had seen her forearms
before, and he was aware of the innumerous veins crisscrossing them but he
could even see a vein on top of both of her mammoth biceps. It had been years,
since he had really looked at her this carefully. Her armpit hair had also
grown quite thick, and he could feel himself hardening.

He was enthralled by this spectacle. Her tall, slimly athletic body and those
large, large biceps!!! He would have loved to feel them, feel their power,
their strength, but he didn't know, how she would react.

She got up and walked towards the kitchen. John's mind was in turmoil. He got
up and followed her. She was cutting meat into small pieces as he stood behind
her. Gathering courage, he stroked her bare, muscular arm. Olivia was
surprised, but she didn't react. He continued rubbing her arm, when all of a
sudden, she turned around and punched him square on his face. He stuttered
back, shocked. His nose started bleeding.

Without a single word, she walked towards him, and grabbed him by his throat,
choking him.

'What are you doing?' He yelled, as she tightened her grasp. He pulled at her
hand with both of his arms but was unable to break free. Years of hard labour
had made her exceptionally strong. Her forearm was too hard and strong for
him. He felt his legs going limp, but she kept him on his feet. Finally she
let go, and he sunk to the floor, gasping for air.

'You bastard, when I wanted you, when I needed you, then where were you? You
never held me close to you, stopped sleeping with me, and now my muscles
arouse you. Listen to me, I don't love you; infact I don't even like you
anymore, and the next time you touch me, I'll break you into pieces.' She
turned around and walked back to the kitchen.

John just lay there for some time. Then he got up and sat on the chair. Two
days passed without them talking to each other. John's attraction had again
given way to hatred. His wife's body aroused him, but much more than that, he
hated her.

By evening the blizzard had worsened. This time, Olivia stepped out of the
house to get some firewood. 'I'll bring some firewood from the barn,' she said
to John, who got up and followed him till the door. He shut the door behind
her as she treaded her way towards the barn but not before he had cut the
ropes. 'Let the bitch die in the snow,' he thought.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. John was startled. 'How did
she return, with no ropes to guide her back. He was again impressed by her
endurance. But he just stood, did not try to open the door. Now, he planned to
get rid of her in this manner. She'll freeze to death outside, he thought. She
banged harder, and he was afraid that she would break open the door if she
kept at it. He opened the door slightly. He could see strong, sturdy fingers
slithering in through the narrow space between the door and the doorjamb.

With all his might, he slammed the door shut. Next, he heard the sound of
something falling on the floor. He looked down and to his horror saw, three
fingers freshly sliced off, on the floor. He could see drops of blood on the
floor too. He picked up the fingers of his wife. And around one of them, was
the engagement ring, he had given her on their wedding day.

Aghast with horror, he threw the ring and the fingers to the floor, before he
passed out.

[This story is inspired by ‘Colder than Hell’ written by Edward Bryant. And as
always feedback, comments are welcome!]