Chapter 1: Folly
Paradise is easy to find, but hard to get to…
Conceived, at a time when the free world lay in the grip of a crippling depression, Paradise had born bad.
At first it had no name. It was simply one of the many islands that separated the old world from the new. But, the island’s innocent facade held a dark secret. A secret that set it apart from its more hospitable brothers. A coral reef lay just under the water, surrounding the island on all sides with a row of jagged little teeth.
The island offered few pleasures on its tropical shore, but it held many terrors. And, more than a handful of the local wildlife fell prey to the island’s charms. Their screams could be heard for miles, as they impaled themselves over and over again on the jagged coral. Those that escaped, did not last long, as the life drained out of them and onto the sandy beach.
At first, the island contented itself with these small sacrifices, little dreaming of the monumental destiny that lay ahead.
Then came the artist.
The artist was a man of great vision, who had made his fortune in the newly formed animation industry. But for all his greatness, the artist had many flaws, and could at times be cruel and ruthless. He was also short-sighted, especially when it came to his creations.
His creations were, to put it kindly, abominations. They were beasts made men, put through a series of endless misfortunes, all for the amusement of children. While the artist, himself, cackled madly all the way to the bank.
“Paradise Island,” the artist declared as he stepped on the island’s shore. “This shall be my masterpiece.”
The island like this man almost immediately.
The artist began to set plans in motion, ruthlessly pushing his way through any obstacle.
Many men died, as they set to work bringing the artist’s grand design to life. But, their deaths were quickly hushed up. After all, the artist reasoned, what were a few deaths, when you sought to create the happiest place on earth!
The island, for its part, contended itself with these small sacrifices.
Driven, the artist pressed on. His divine hand shaped the world around him, as men continued to build at his command. These commands, of course, were given from the safety and comfort of his office back home on the mainland. For the artist was not one to sully his hands with the mundane details of creation.
Sometimes the artist would step back and admire his handiwork, as he studied pictures sent from the worksite. More often than not, he would berate his men for getting everything wrong. Report after report would follow, as the artist ordered his men to tear everything down, and start again: for nothing less than absolute perfection would do.
More men died, but they were easily replaced. The world lay in the grip of a crippling depression, and the artist paid well. So well, that he had an abundance of desperate and starving men at his disposal.
The newly christened Paradise, meanwhile, contented itself with these small sacrifices.
But as the work continued, the artist began to hear more and more rumors that called his very sanity into question.
After all, who in his right mind would build an amusement park in the middle of nowhere?
To these rumors, the artist would simply smile, and shake his head.
This had not been the first time his critics had questioned his sanity.
Sight unseen, these same critics had dubbed his first animated film his greatest folly.
But, the artist had proved them wrong, and that animated film became his greatest success.
And with a certain pride, the artist had no doubt that this latest “folly” would prove to be an even greater financial windfall.
As fate would have it, the artist would never see that success come to pass.
War broke out in Europe, and the means of production came to a grinding halt. The artist joined the fight, and to his credit fought for the side of the angels. The war ended, and soon went cold. Good had triumphed over evil. And, just like in the movies, everything was right with the world again.
Sadly, the artist’s greatest masterpiece would remain forever unfinished and forgotten.
But, Paradise continued on. Its patience’s immune to the passage of time.
Enter, Captain Arthur Holedecker, a man who discovered Paradise completely by accident.
Though, some could point to a divine hand that had led him there. Or, perhaps, to an even crueler fate that had cast him down.
Paradise offered few pleasures for the young airman, but held many terrors.
“Help me! Help me please! I’m still alive!”
Captain Holedecker screamed these words over and over again, until his radio went silent.
