Dumb LOTF shit I think of a lot

Ralph Fucking Dies

Smoke filled Jack's lungs. The heat burned his skin. At last, he had found the fair boy that terrorized him the moment they met. Ralph's frequently bright eyes were darkened with fear and knowledge of what's to come next.

"Grab him," Jack ordered. He said it with such solemnity that it felt as if the entire island froze. A chill went up to everyone's spines. Once that long, chilling second was over, the tribe hooted and hollered and lunged for Ralph. His screams of terror filled the air. Pleading and begging went on over and over again like a broken record. Jack's lips rose to a sinister grin. Ralph knew it was all over and let his muscles relax.

The tribe did their eerie dance.

"Kill the Beast. Spill his blood. Do him in."

Chant after chant, the yells sounded more distorted. It was all a blur to Ralph. Steps in the sand were heard over the songs. Ralph looked up and saw the red-headed boy. The one who he thought he loved betrayed him. He couldn't even recognize Jack. The bloodthirsty stare and the evil smile on his face were all alien to Ralph. This wasn't Jack. This was the beast they hunting for all along. And Ralph was his next victim. Just another piece of meat to be preyed on like Simon and Piggy. Tears streamed down Ralph's face. The last time he'll see Jack, and it's not even him. Just an empty shell.

Jack crouched down to Ralph's level, "You remember Julius Caesar? The once-mighty Greek general who was loved got stabbed twenty-three times by his close friends." A dirty foot was left on Ralph's chest. "I remember the teacher telling us his last words quite clearly. 'Et Tu Brute?' Julius was speaking to his close friend, who was also in the murder. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Horror drowned Ralph's gaze. Jack continued, "People don't know it, but they repeat history every day." His next words were visible to Ralph. Horrifyingly clear.

"Let's repeat history, Ralph."

Jack was now on top of Ralph. "So how many times was Caesar stabbed? I mentioned it just now. Twenty-three times. They were all on the back, but I'd like to mix it up a little." A glint of silver was in the sun and stabbed down into Ralph's left eye.

Pain

Blood

The beast was in its pure form

Ralph's cries of anguish drilled into everyone's ears. Jack's behavior was disturbing, even for his tribe.

"One..." Jack was counting. Calmly. Another stab was buried into Ralph's right eye.

"Two..." Jack stabbed into the stomach and continued.

"...Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven..." Blood was staining the sand. All over the beach and Jack's body. Ralph was still alive, experiencing all of it.

"...Twenty-one. Twenty-Two." Jack stopped. Ralph was hardly awake. A lot of blood left his body already.

Jack's words startled everyone around. Littleuns was whimpering. "You must be wondering why I stopped at twenty-two." Ralph coughed, and a gush of blood out of his mouth followed.

"I was saving the best part for last. I heard SamnEric mention a stick sharpened at both ends to you. I bet you were confused since you weren't at the hunt with us. Why does this have to do with anything?" Jack's eyes were wild with instability.

"We're gonna put your head on a stick, Ralph. Just like the sow. You are going to be torn apart just like a pig we hunt here on the island! Just thinking about it makes me... so excited.." It was almost unreal. Jack went fully insane. This was the last thing Ralph remembered before the knife stabbed into his throat.

Blood went everywhere. Splattered all over Jack. In his hair and face. Jack looked around with a manic smile. They were too scared to move.

"Twenty-three." The final number followed with an eerie silence. "Roger, will you bring me the stick?" Roger approached with such confidence as if nothing had happened. As if he had seen this many times before. Jack took off Ralph's head. Breaking the bones and cutting the muscle. The gaps where Ralph's eyes were supposed to have seemed to glare into everyone. Learning every single secret they kept. They felt vulnerable. Like a mouse in the valley with swirling hawks.

Jack stood up. Ralph's dirty, fair hair in his hands risen in victory. The savages cheered. It wasn't a thankful cheer, more of a cry of fear to keep the beast happy.

Jack announced, "The beast is dead. We can relax and have fun like intended." Everyone knew that the beast, in fact, was not dead. The beast stood in front of them, holding their chief's head in his hands. Jack took the stick from Roger's hands. The butt of the rod pushed into the sand and Ralph's head at the top of it. The job was done. Chief's orders were fulfilled. But the beast still crept among them, hiding in plain sight.