lotf shit part 2

lotf final project

Surrounded by the bristling group of boys behind him, Jack held them back with a simple command. He wanted to hear what Piggy had to say, although he wasn't paying much attention. A bit of Piggy's speech wandered into Jack's brain.

"...to be a pack of painted Indians like you are—"

Piggy grabbed Jack's attention through the insult. He looked at Ralph accusingly, who returned with an unfamiliar emotion. It wasn't the same anger that Jack was used to. Piggy didn't allow Jack to observe further as he continued talking.

"—or to be sensible like Ralph is?"

Piggy's pallor darkened as he shouted louder against the antagonizing laughter. "Which is better— to have rules and agree, or hunt and kill?"

Zup! The sound of whizzing air made Jack's ears twitch. He looked behind him and saw Roger throwing and dropping rocks. Jack smiled and nodded at him, approvingly.

Ralph started yelling too, "Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking things up?" Jack's face went hot under his paint, and he screamed back at Ralph. He didn't know what he was screaming, but it was most likely curses and insults. He stepped back a little and signaled to his tribe that it was nearly time to go off. Ralph swayed deliriously and held his spear out defensively.

A faint creak convinced Jack to look behind him again. Roger leaned all of his weight onto the branch that was wedged between the boulder and the rock. The boulder hesitated for a moment then pummeled down onto the poor victim.

Piggy's ribs cracked upon impact, then the precious sunbleached conch, and then his skull when he struck the beach below them. Jack stared at the all too familiar blood which stained the water.

That was not a pig's blood.

That was human blood.

Dead human blood. One of his own.

The ocean swept the corpse away, never to be seen or thought of again.

In the moment of dead silence, Jack hysterically shouted, "See? See? That's what you'll get! I meant that! There isn't a tribe for you anymore! The conch is gone—"

"I'm chief!" Ralph interrupted, running towards him.

Jack threw his spear, which hit Ralph square into his core.

For a moment, time stopped.

He fell back and started pooling. Ralph drowned in his blood that flooded his lungs. The excess choked out of his mouth and trailed down his chin.

Children were watching in horror as they saw their chief's life fade out of his eyes. Even the strongest hunters felt regret twist in their stomach when Jack pulled his spear out with a disgusting squelch.

Cold eyes seemingly froze the now dead Ralph on the red rocks. Jack swallowed hard as he remembered the first time he saw Ralph. The confident fair-haired boy, who is now just a husk. A corpse to be disposed of.

***

Jack stalked through the forest, looking for some more fresh meat. Taking care of thirty or more young boys was more challenging than he thought, especially when none of them ate the fruit after he promised to keep hunting.

A little further into the forest was a pile of fresh feces. Flies buzzed around and sucked on it with their little tongues.

I'm getting close, thought Jack.

The droppings were led by hoofprints, which evolved into human footprints—a confusion of another hinted hunter mixed with the supposed prey. The second trail of footprints matched Jack's exactly. His stomach twisted for a moment. The red-headed boy brushed the creepers away and was greeted by a head.

A head on a stick, to be exact.

Ralphs head on a stick.

An offering to the beast.

The skin was bloated and started to ooze as it rotted. The dried blood stained the ground and wood that it stood on. Eyes were lifeless yet full of terror.

Jack woke with a start. He placed his hand on his chest to feel his heart beating out of his chest. The image of the rotting head filled his mind. Jack looked around. The moon yawned through the cracks of the cave, evident that it's still a long time until morning. Jack rolled onto his side to attempt to fall back asleep. As he closed his heavy eyelids, the image of his spear piercing through Ralph's body returned. Jack laid in the silver tinted night, terrified of what he's done.

The beast may be real. The offering worked. No one knows, but the true evil resided inside of chapter chorister—the chief. And maybe, the beast of the Island.