A mist over the island
The village on the island is strewn with bodies. Some have been ripped open, others have been ripped apart; all have expressions of startled terror upon their faces. That low buzzing sound you hear is a thousand flies, crawling and flying over the corpses.
Along the south side of the island trudge a group of grim-looking, ghostly men, who look neither to the left nor the right, and either cannot hear or are choosing to ignore the cries for help coming from the lighthouse.
Just outside the village, there's a grassy recreation ground, for children to play in and run around. There are some children there now. Some of them are in several pieces. Their blood has soaked into the ground.
The other side of the causeway, there's a shack, where a man is tied to a chair. Half mad to begin with, he has been beaten and tortured almost to death, and now is little more than a gibbering, nervous wreck.
Just down from the village, there's a dock. It's the only way off the island, but the boats are guarded by a cluster of other-worldly creatures, with big teeth, powerful limbs and absolutely no mercy. From a distance, when they stand on their hind legs, they look almost human, but don't be fooled. They are not human.
The caves... best not go too near the caves.
[This is the completed first draft. It's about 80,000 words in total.]