You would think that receiving an invitation to one of the most prestigious, selective, and revolutionary projects of the twentieth century would offer some of the highest technology from around the world, or maybe even offer workshops from famous guest speakers that had the decedent brains of Einstein.

Milo thought that way as soon as she confirmed the letter was legitimately from GlobalPlanet Empire, who (for heaven's sake) had made million dollar donations towards NASA, the US National Park Preservations, and even Oceana sea habitat conservation.

At the camp, she'd envisioned a beautifully crafted, echo-friendly building filled with state-of-the-art technology, like fluorescence microscopes, spectrophotometers, and balances that could weigh to the subatomic particle level.

But this?

"This is not what I was expecting." Milo said out loud, body going stiff in shock. Kim stood next to her in equally stunned silence, looking out onto the field of mud and tents. And yes, you heard that correctly.

Mud. Pit.

Nearly two-dozen crooked and beat up tents flapped in the breeze of the tree-vacant field about the size of half a football field. The tents' original crisp fabrics were now sun-rotted to limp, beige drapes that barely covered their contents from the sun's harsh rays, their sides spotted with mud and other grime. The tents lined up together side by side with their openings facing a semi-straight beaten pathway, one which was heavily dented with footprints caked in a watery-muddy mixture.

Off to the side were a few much larger tents in comparison that looked to be at least four times as big with darker grey, newer drapes covering them. Each corner was pegged into the ground with a large, wooden stake, everything inside obscured by the dark fabric. Milo could only guess that's where the main equipment for the expedition was.

The longer Milo looked at the chaotic mess, all hopes she had for a posh lab were thrown in the air and straight into the mud.

The letter did mention she'd become one with the jungle, but this was quite misleading.

Milo's eyes continued to widen when suddenly a man decked in camouflage overalls suddenly perked his head out from under the larger tent, a cigarette dangling in his mouth as a broad, crooked-tooth smile took over his big face. Sunglasses obscured his eyes but Milo had the inclination he was staring at them based off that giddy smile attempting to be welcoming. His heavy boots squelched into the mud as he slowly walked over to them, Milo's eyes catching the incredibly large snake tattoo slithering up his upper bicep.

What in the world...

He called out to them loudly from over the sound of birds loudly squawking in the background, "Well how are you all? Bet the jungle feels better than that air-conditioned cabin." His gutteral laugh was strangulated in his throat, a fitful cough soon following as he dropped and smothered the cigarette into the ground. Milo scrunched her nose at his careless actions, dropping her eyes upon the offensivable cigarette until the fumes and orange glow went out.

Doesn't he know that he's in one of the most flammable parts of the world? Granted, the humidity may dampen any attempts for the man's cigarette to make a fire, but the amount of combustible materials here is enough to light a cookout for Manhattan.

Milo looked back up at the man and examined him more closely. Judging purely off his age and poor health, the man couldn't be older than sixty, possibly lingering in his early to mid fifties (unless he was indeed younger and just didn't take proper care for himself, or didn't care to). His clothes were damp with sweat as well as the cloud of body odor surrounding him. She lifted her hand to her nose and winced, almost gagging at the odor lodged in what felt like her brain.

A tense silence clung to the air as the man did nothing but scan his eyes over them, waiting as the remainder of the group slowly trickling in behind and around them.

Milo has a million questions, the top being where the hell, who the hell, and what the hell is going on.Where is all the field biologists for the project? Where is the giant lab facility?

Milo being Milo, she came up with several excuses of what could've happened, her top estimated hypotheses being the fact she took the wrong jet. Or two, this random civilian had a strange neurological disorder and believed them to be part of a project he was working on in the middle of the jungle. (Which meant he had to be a billionaire as well, so plausibly not a good prediction. Unless the billionaire fashion line included not wearing deodorant nor showering for days)

Behind her, Milo felt the presence as more and more people got off the plane and looked out onto the mess of a mud puddle using camping tents as lilly pads. Murmurs of confusion and dismay floated around, though the older man's expression remained the same. He continued to smile exaggeratedly, hands on his hips as he scanned the group head to toe. When he got to Milo, his eyes sent shivers down her back as she purposely crossed her arms over her chest and frowned to look more intimidating. Needless to say, she did not get a good feeling about the man.

Once everyone was standing there, the man clapped his large hands together loudly with another boisterous laugh.

"Hello hello! Welcome to the first day of the expedition! For introductions, just call me Rye. It's short for Henry- and I know what you're thinking- even though my name should obviously be pronounced Ree, that just sounds odd to me. So does just plain Hen, cause as you can tell- I ain't no Hen." He laughed again, holding his belly as oxygen screamed from his lungs in fitful laughters.

Milo wasn't amused.

The man continued, holding his arms up in a T pose with his fingers splayed out, "This here will be your home for the next four weeks, we'll call it 'Camp Rye' for simple terms. You'll work on your scienc-y stuff out there in the wild, but here, you gotta work on my terms. I own these tents after all."

"Is he serious?" Milo mumbled to Kim, vividly getting deja vu of the horrendous terrors of summer camp. At least where she went, the camp hired teenagers as camp counselors. They obviously didn't want to be there, having the same false bravado and see-through smile of 'I could possibly care less.' But with this Rye dude... she now preferred the bored teenagers.

Rye continued to shout at the group like a drill sergeant would his army, "You'll each carry responsibilities that will support one another, like cooking food, laundry, and even sleeping. Yes, you heard me right. Every night, three people will watch over the tents. Y'know- for critters and wildlife. We'll change out that role every night to make it fair.

And don't worry- if things get outta hand I got old faithful here to protect us." He suddenly whipped out a pistol from his pocket and pointed it lazily in the air, Kim quickly stepping closer to Milo and away from the gun's aim.

He smiled crookedly, "I'll lend her to one of you each night, not that it'll do much though. As you can tell, we're not in 'human territory' anymore, so in other words, we're not exactly... the top of the food chain."

His cryptic words send an ominous tone to the group, Milo's eyes immediately darting into the tree line. Is this guy serious? There's nobody here to protect us but ourselves? What if one of us gets injured, or worse!

A million thoughts were flying through Milo's head and making it hurt, a migraine setting in from both stress and confusion. This had to be some joke, there wasn't any way any of this was real. She had to say something if nobody else would, this proposition is not what she signed up for.

Someone from behind her spoke first, making Milo look over her shoulder at a tall, balder man dressed in a neat button up and jeans. His voice carried a foreign, eastern Europe accent that matched some of the more pronounced features on his face. "Excuse me, but what in the seven hells are you talking about? We were all invited by a research society to study the Amazon, not play as some wilderness survival expert."

Behind her, a collection of agreeing murmurs supported him, everyone now looking at the man, Rye, expectantly. Hoping this was some joke. But the man only shook his head slowly, almost like he was enjoying the confused looks on each one of their faces, an amused chuckle coming from his lips. Slowly, he crossed his arms behind his back and waited until everyone stopped talking, his silent command making the hairs on the back of Milo's neck stand tall.

She didn't like the way he was looking at them.

"I'm aware you all have been invited by GlobalPlanet Empire. I know, because I'm their main spokesperson in the southern hemisphere. If it weren't for me, you all couldn't step foot on this land- my property. You all were invited to study the Amazon, correct?" He tilted his head and waited for a response, for which a collection of nods hesitantly agreed.

"Then you will be studying on my land, using my equipment, and playing by my rules. Once everyone is situated in their living quarters, my expedition will begin."

A flicker of something cynical mirrored in his eyes that traveled with his gaze to the tree line.

At the man's pointed words 'my expedition,' Milo's eyes finally widened in semi-understanding, the look of pure horror ghosting her features. She had been intentionally tricked and brought here for this man's own gain. He'd lied to the society- and brought them here to-

The man cut off Milo's thoughts with the rustling of his hand in his overalls, retrieving a solid white, curved-shaped item resting in the palm of his hand.

A snake tooth.

"You will set out for my first and only objective for you young group of scientists...

To fetch me a Naga."