[ WP ] Write about a prison for monsters or other evil creatures on the back of a large turtle .

`` It's time,'' the lieutenant called, eyes drawn close in a disgusted snarl. “ We ’ ve put it off for three weeks already, but we can do so no longer. To the new recruits: today is the day you will prove yourself worthy of this job. Today, and on this day of every year for the rest of your miserable careers, you will be tested to your limits. Today, no matter what happens, no matter what you hear, you shall remain alert and at your post. Today, the turtle must feed. ” 
 
 From the back of the crowded room, Pita flicked her wings nervously. She was fresh from the training academy and had only been assigned for a few days; she had not even received proper equipment yet. Her ears twitched uncomfortably beneath a helmet that was far too large to fit properly on a fairy ’ s tiny head. When the lieutenant looked away, she turned quietly to the bulky gnome next to her. “ The turtle ’ s health is the most important thing to this prison. Why postpone the annual feeding? ” 
 
 “ Staff, ” he replied curtly. 
 
 Odd. According to the papers, prison guard recruitment had been stable and even rising on occasion. “ Was there some trouble recently? ” 
 
 “ Ghouls. Uprising. Nasty business. ” 
 
 Pita gulped; she had noticed that there were more than a few missing lesser appendages among the veteran guards and soldiers. Perhaps she would speak to the requisitions officer before her equipment was finalized… silver fingertips for her gloves, perhaps, or a particularly unappetizing scent wash? 
 
 “ Moving, ” spoke the gnome. “ Stay sharp. ” 
 
 At the lieutenant ’ s signal, the assembled guards turned and marched out of the room one by one. He was making a face as though he might lose his lunch all over the floor at any moment – not the best appearance for a superior officer, but then Pita could hardly blame him. The turtle was his to watch over at the moment, and it was he whom would ultimately be held responsible should anything manage to escape. Pita thought she heard him mumble a curse or two as the last of the guards emptied out. 
 
 She took her place around the perimeter of the prison, at the very edge where the shell beneath their feet became slick with ocean spray. A gigantic fin, exponentially larger than anything kept inside, rose majestically behind her, darkening the sky for but a moment before disappearing into the waves. How small she felt… just a dot compared to the living thing they rode. How frail, compared to this master of the oceans. 
 
 A small, frail dot alongside other frail dots, who would soon be all that stood between the horrors inside and the rest of the world. Vampires, goblins, ghouls and ghosts, abominations from the old abandoned places of the world would emerge from their ancient prisons today. They would stand or sit or crawl in the confines of hastily-assembled walls plastered over with makeshift warding on an abandoned island while the turtle, the prison, dove beneath the waters to feed. Not even one monster could be allowed to escape, lest it devastate the unprepared modern world beyond... and prove to humankind that perhaps magical things really do exist still, after all. 
 
 Pita reached to secure her helmet as a sudden burst of wind rattled through the prison; the turtle ’ s speed had increased. In the distance, she could barely see the island on which they were to land. The fact that she could not immediately feel the presence of protective wards even at their current distance told her the area had not been properly fortified; there had been no time. The delay of which the lieutenant spoke had been unexpected, and the world was growing smaller. Abandoned islands were a hot commodity among certain humanoids, and finding and holding one someplace that would not be noticed had become increasingly more difficult. Two days after the last expected feeding time – little more than two weeks ago – a ship had been spotted sailing toward the previous island choice, forcing workers to locate a new one on the spot. Had they not delayed, the old island would have provided much better defenses. 
 
 Communications had been steady lately, with all reports indicating a successful relocation, and yet Pita felt uneasy. The turtle, realizing it was time to feed, had increased its velocity significantly; it had waited one year and three weeks now, and did not intend to wait a day longer. Deny it now, and the turtle may just take to the deep as it pleased, prisoners and all. They drew ever nearer, but still she could not feel the wards. Still, she could not see any prison towers or buildings. 
 
 There was, however, something in the water. Pita squinted for a better view, turning slightly from her position to lean over the railing that circled the turtle ’ s great shell. “ No, ” she whispered. “ This can ’ t be… ” 
 
 They could not delay. The reports had been reassuring. And yet there, scattered around the island meant to house every foul monster known to their planet, were boats. Human boats. 
 
 “ The island… it ’ s inhabited! ” 
 
 Werewolves and wraiths, undead mummies and untamed monstrosities, witches and other wicked things – they all had to leave the shell, and with no fortifications and only a handful of fairies, gnomes, and leprechauns to guard them. There was not time to find anyplace else. As the island drew every nearer, Pita ’ s fingers coiled tightly around her old, hand-me-down weapon, and she wondered again why she ha
