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This is the prologue for a large story, that I change around for each site I write it for.

Prologue

A torrent of wind screamed at the man as he sailed towards the strange island. The odd, maw-like shape of the island had earned it the foreboding title, “Lair of the Furies.” The man was counting on the name’s accuracy. He landed on a shore saturated with crystallized salt, dried remains of the unforgiving surf that laid waste to the landscape. As the man trudged laboriously through the dilapidated remains of a beach, he noticed a peculiar object partially obscured by the monochromatic salt and sand. He wrested the object from the sand, only to drop it in shock almost instantly. The object was a skull, stained black as obsidian and pockmarked with fresh-looking jagged grooves, as though it had been slashed by the sun itself. The man did not dismiss this last thought, as it was not impossible in his line of work. He took a momentary glance at the ocean, and thought of the wife and newborn child he had left behind. His thoughts flashed back to the skull. Was it his fate to join that skull’s owner in oblivion? The man walked on, unsure of the future…


Thousands of miles away, in a sleepy suburb, a small newborn could not sleep. Unlike most babies who are content to spring loose with a deluge of tears and an unyielding wail, this little one simply sat there looking out of its crib with intelligent amber eyes and nary a sound. It was its mother that it was watching through the doorway with rapt attention, the only other person it had seen since it opened its small eyes. It was suddenly snapped out of its reverie by a sound of splintering wood. Even this was not enough to make the baby shed a single tear. It did however emit a small yelp as two gargantuan hands closed around its tiny form. The child was quickly silenced by a soothing, deep voice. “Hush, little one,” the mysterious figure spoke. “I must protect you, even if that means taking you away from here.” Through one of the cracks of light shining through the massive fingers, the child saw its mother gasp and step back.
“What are you doing here?” were her last words as a shot was fired, and the women who had brought the child into this world was taken out of it.
“Find the brat!” said a voice that the child had never heard before, a young one. Suddenly, it found the doorway getting smaller as it was rushed elsewhere, to an uncertain future…

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Where will this future take our unnamed child? You'll see soon...