Lord of the Flies Alternate Ending
By: Max Duckworth
Chapter 13: They Died With Their Boots On
Ralph gripped his spear like there was no tomorrow. He could feel the perspiration getting squeezed out of his wet palms as he held the stick in his hands. He ducked lower, to make sure that Roger couldn’t see him. All he could do was hope that the bush was big enough to cover him.
He dug himself lower into the soil. His face was now at Rogers’s thigh area. “Hmm.” He heard Roger groan.
Roger turned around and walked away. Ralph allowed himself to breathe after the longest minute of his life. “Jack!” He heard him scream, “He’s not here!” Ralph actually let a smile pass his lips as he saw the painted figure desert him. “Smoke him out!”
Ralph’s grin was wiped clean off his face, smoke him out? They weren’t actually going to start a fire were they? “They wouldn’t.” Ralph reminded himself, “They’ve gone out of their way to avoid starting fires.” Ralph continued to grip his spear as he dispelled this new threat as the usual savage-talk that usually comes out of Roger’s mouth.
“Alright,” He heard Jack say, “Sam! Light it up!”
“Sir yes sir!” Sam replied menacingly.
“Oh no….” Ralph whispered. Sam sounded close, as did the smoldering that he was working on. “No no no!” He burst from his bush and ran as fast as his legs could take him.
“Hey! There he is!” Roger screamed as he hurled his spear at him, the pointed stick crashed into the tree next to Ralph. The sharp end got wedged in the trunk with an explosion of splinters and a loud crack!
Ralph sprinted away as Roger summoned the other savages to chase him. By the time that Ralph was ten feet away, the savages were behind him and a giant mass of flames was consuming trees like toothpicks.
Another spear was thrown at Ralph and barely missed his hip as it hit the ground. Ralph quickly pivoted to throw his spear at the stampede following him. It struck Maurice in the stomach and soared through his back, pulling out some kind of organ and a splash of crimson with it.
“IT KILLED MAURICE!” Jack cried as he hurled his own spear. Time seemed to slow down as it honed in Ralph’s leg. It quickly pierced the back of his thigh and he tumbled to the ground with a cry of pain.
Ralph crashed into a bed of dead leaves and turned back to see his predators. Jack rushed before the pack with another boy’s spear that he lifted above his head in a grotesque manor like some kind of savage caveman.
A huge crack came from the side and a flaming tree crashed to the ground, separating the savages from the last shred of humanity. Ralph continued to cry while Jack screamed with fury. The tree was two-hundred feet long and covered in flames; Ralph was almost safe.
He twisted around and pulled the spear out, “AGGHH!” he screamed in agony. He quickly grabbed the nearest dead palm and used it to stop the blood from squirting out of his leg.
He quickly stood up and started limping away from the tree; he didn’t even make a sound as another tree fell behind him.
“Jack?” A hollowed out choir-boy asked, “I think we killed him.”
“We did? Really?” Eric shouted, showing obvious glee.
“Yes boys. We killed Ralph,” Jack confirmed, “let’s head back to the castle. A feast is in order!” Laughter and merriment filled the burning forest as Ralph limped away from the pack.
Eventually, Ralph gave in to the heat. His face was bright pink and layers upon layers of skin were peeling off. He fell flat on his chest and covered his body so he would blend in; it reminded him of turning off the lights in an air-raid drill. He couldn’t bring himself to face the sun, or even move a limb.
He was completely numb. His heavy eyelids fell and he drifted into a better place.
It was raining and he was walking out of school with his friends. He looked up at the cool, grey sky and wrapped his black blazer tighter. “Mummy!” He called as his mother drew nearer.
“Ralphie!” She laughed, “How was school?”
“It was great, mum. We trained for an air raid!”
“Oh really?” His mother questioned, “What do you do then?”
“Well, we didn’t have an air-shelter. But we made sure all of the lights were off because they make gas and could give our position away.” He paused to catch his breath, “And then we had to hide under the tables, for cover and protection.”
“Very good Ralphie!” His mother applauded him, “Maybe you could be in the navy, just like your father!”
Ralph was touched. He could be like his father? He couldn’t believe it; his father was like a god! He was a grown-up; he was oh-so-civilized. And he spent pounds and pounds and pounds on his wife. One time he bought her a conch.
The conch was so shiny and perfect; it had an entire spectrum of colors spanning both sides. Whenever you blew it, it would omit a mighty roar! Ralph could never touch the conch, however. He just remembered a good friend using one. That friend was called Piggy.
Piggy!
The island!
Survival!
Ralph was suddenly woken up. He wasn’t in his uniform anymore, he was in rags. He opened his eyes and examined his body. He was clean! He twisted to find his thigh stitched up like a doctor would have done.
He quickly looked around. He was lying under a thatched roof. “Hu-hullo?” He called.
A nearby figure started walking towards him, “Oh hi. It’s about time you woke up. Most of us didn’t think you’d pull through! But you did, which is great!”
The person talking was not a boy. Not a child at all in fact, this was a man! This was a grown-up! “Wait—what?” Ralph asked baffled, “Where am I?”
“You’re in camp Boots On. We’re glad to have you!”
“Ca—Camp Boots On? Like the movie?”
“Yes, have you seen it? They Died With Their Boots On? It’s a fantastic movie!”
“How old are you?” Ralph asked as he sat up on his bed made out of sticks and palms, “How did you make all this?”
“Me, I’m only fourteen. I’m the youngest one here, well second youngest now.” He paused to laugh at his own joke, “There are a few sixteen’s that new each other before this happened. They did wood-shop or something at their old school. They’ve made quite a lot of stuff. They even made a sun-dial!”
Ralph thought about Piggy and his sun-dial idea. It wasn’t completely out of the question. “What? Did you just put a stick in the ground or what?”
“Yes pretty much. We calved numbers onto pieces of wood and placed them around in a circle. It’s like a real clock! I can’t wait for you to meet everybody!” The boy walked from the shelter and guided Ralph to the rest of the camp.
Ralph was astonished. These people had crafted cabins from sticks and had made storage holes with palm leaves. There was about thirty people here, each of them around fifteen years old. There was one of them—a sixteen year old boy—that sold meat and fur from his cabin. There were some people sweeping the floors of ash with brooms made out of twigs.
It was like a town.
It was civilization.
“We don’t usually have people sweeping the streets.” The boy explained, “It’s just that the wild-fire left so much ash that got in our food.”
Ralph was dumfounded. “What’s that one doing?” Ralph asked, pointing at the merchant.
“Oh, that’s Stephen. He goes hunting with his choir boys. They bring back meat and fur.” The guide took a second to giggle, “He’s quite funny actually. He tells us stories about some younger kids in his old choir-group. There’s this one kid named Jack, Stephen says he’s such a little bugger and always pestered him to take him hunting with him.”
Ralph listened with keen interest. “You see, Stephen’s father owned a farm and they went hunting on weekends. Jack got so jealous. I can’t do the story and justice, you need to ask him about it.”
“Ha-ha….” Ralph laughed awkwardly, “Sounds like a real nuisance.” He scratched the back of his head as he mused what Jack was like before this all started. “So, how did I get here? Did you find me or something?”
“Oh, you have Stephen and his hunters to thank for that. You see, you were on a pig trail and they just so happened to have been hunting. You were being ripped-apart by mosquitos; we got them all off you though so it’s okay.”
Ralph glanced at his arm and the massive red dots that it was supporting. “Wow. How long have I been out?”
“Not long, about a week. We don’t think you have malaria, but keep your fingers crossed, hey?” The boy laughed, “Oh how rude of me. I haven’t introduced myself, my name is Ethan.”
“Oh, I’m Ralph.” Ethan offered his hand, a gesture that was almost alien to Ralph. He placed his newly cleaned, bony hand in Ethan’s strong palm.
“Were there any others with you?” Ethan asked, “I mean, when we found you, you were alone but we figured you could have gotten lost.”
Ralph pondered the question, “No; I was alone.” He swallowed hard, thinking about his decision. About Sam’n’Eric, no, Ralph reminded himself. They were separate, Sam started the fire himself. They were two beings, each equally tainted by Jack.
“Really? That’s funny. I could have sworn there were others on the island.” Ethan explained, Ralph tried to keep himself calm, “you see. When the plane first crashed—do you remember?—there was a sound, like a conch? Did you hear it?”
“A conch? No, I didn’t hear anything.” Ralph tried to maintain eye contact, he had always been a bad liar and he couldn’t stand the pressure. “Are you sure it wasn’t the plane?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I swear there were a lot more people on the plane then there are on the island.” Ethan mused for a moment, “they must have all gotten incinerated. You know on the plane, somebody stole a note from this kid’s suitcase.”
Ralph listened with genuine interest as Ethan told the story, “he wore spectacles and was a bit overweight. Well, he wrote a note to his aunt and everybody was laughing about it. Well, when it was passed to me, I just put it in my pocket so nobody else could bully him. I hope he’s still alive.”
Ralph knew that he was talking about Piggy. He fell to his knees and started crying. “What is it?” Ethan asked, “Was he a friend of yours?”
“Yes, he was my best friend. When we first came to the island, I wasn’t alone. There was a group of about twenty of us. The fat one was there and there were others. One of them was Jack.” Ralph stopped to catch his breath, “Jack turned on us, he wanted to hunt. He took most of the tribe, and then he killed my two best friends and tortured what was left of us.” Ralph gave himself a minute to think, “But when you found me. I was alone. I had barely escaped what used to be my tribe. They tried to burn me, which was what that huge fire was. They were animals….” He trailed off.
“Oh, well.” Ethan tried to think of comforting words, “You’re safe now.”
Later that night, the whole town met up for a feast. Ralph sat next to Ethan in the circle that acted like a dinner table. There was a roasting fire in the center of the circle and it was surrounded by different kind of food that the hunters and gathered mustered up that sat on leaves.
“Good evening all. I would like to have the floor.” Ethan announced, Ralph was in awe. No conch, no arguing. He just got given the right to speak like it was nothing. “This feast has been called to celebrate the latest edition to our group! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Ralph!”
The group clapped quietly, like you would back in England. It wasn’t until now that Ralph realized that there were girls in the group. He was almost forgetting what they looked like. “Hi.” He said shyly to the group. He was thinking of things to say but found nothing, “um, I’m very impressed by your village. It’s amazing!”
A sixteen-year-old boy stepped forth with a voice that had long since broken. “Hello Ralph. My name is Ramsay; I was elected Prime-Minster of this group.” He offered his hand, a gesture Ralph was still accompanying himself too, “We are more than glad to have you here. However, you will have to pull your weight, we all have jobs.” He paused and let everybody nod, “tell me, do you have any talents?”
Ralph thought for a second, “Well, uhh. I’m athletic; I was the fastest kid in my year back in England.” He wished that he met the qualifications.
“Ahh, an athlete?” Ramsay asked, “Well, tell me. Do you like hunting?”
Ralph nearly threw up, he couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t stand the thought of hunting innocent animals like Jack did. “Um, no. I’ve had…bad experience with hunting.” He could hear groans of disapproval coming from the rest of the feast-goers. “I can swim! I can swim real good!” he announced with pride. “Could I spear fish or something?”
“I guess so,” Ramsay thought about it, “sure. We need a fisherman. You could sell all of your catch to Stephen; the merchant. He’ll pay you a grand amount of clay for fish! It’s a delicacy!” Ralph looked at Stephen who seemed enthralled to have such an exotic offering.
“Thank you sir, prime-minister.” Ralph said awkwardly, “um, what’s clay?” He asked stupidly.
“Clay is our currency; we needed something to substitute the pound did we not? We found a great deposit along the beach. We divided it equally and we can all trade for each other’s goods.” Ramsay shot Ralph a smile, “you can buy cloth from Athena,” he gestured to a fifteen-year-old girl next to him, “and George makes jewelry.” He indicated a fourteen-year old boy who waved nicely. “You get paid for working, you will receive clay from Stephen when you trade but here is a bit to get you started.” Ramsay threw Ralph a rolled-up ball of clay. “Okay everyone. Dig in!”
Everybody ate the food with manors like they would in England. Without knives, forks and tea of course but that didn’t make it any less impressive. Ralph ate more than anybody, eating a more than lavish amount of pig and papayas.
That night, Ethan let Ralph sleep in his bed, seeing as the ‘hospital’ bed that he originally woke up was reserved for the injured. Ethan took the blanket that he bought from Athena but Ralph was okay without one.
Ralph slept for twelve hours. He was sound asleep for once. He slept without the terror of a little’un’s cry or waking up to a painted face holding a spear. He dreamt of England. This new discovery made him feel closer to home than ever. He could almost touch the damp, cobblestone roads.
He was awoken by Ethan shaking his body, “Ralph, hey Ralph. Get up.” Ralph sat up, “You have a visitor?” Ethan sounded confused.
Ralph raised an eyebrow. “A visitor?”
Sam stood in the center of the town. He was just as awestruck as Ralph was. He looked shyly at his feet as he waited for the old chief, the one he liked.
Ralph walked over to the figment of civility that stood before him. He was hiding behind dirt-encrusted skin and red clay. “Hey, Ralph.” Sam said shyly, Ralph could tell that he was ashamed, “I have something to tell you.” He held his right arm with his left and looked at his feet as they brushed the floor.
“What is it Sam? Why did you come here?” Ralph asked. Sam looked scared, like he had seen things. Bad things; horrible things. Things that only a monster like Jack could do.
“Um, I want to stay with you.” He paused awkwardly, “Everybody wants to kill you, even Eric.” He paused again, “I didn’t want to. I think you’re a good chief.” He paused a third time, “It wasn’t me that started that fire. It was Eric.” He paused yet again and coughed, “Jack can’t tell us apart. Not that Eric cares. I wanted to come with you. I knew you weren’t dead.” He started sobbing.
Ralph watched, he was almost touched. His spirit was lightened by this shred of hope. “It’s okay Sam. Don’t cry. I think you’ll be welcome here; they gladly took me in.”
“Whe—when you fell unconscious, I looked after you. I covered you face in leaves to stop the sun from burning it. It’s just that when some others came, I thought they’d kill me; like Jack would have done.”
Ralph looked over at Stephen who appeared to be applying camouflage to his face; he was going hunting. “I followed them here. When I saw how nice this camp was, I decided I wanted to join. Can I? Can I please?”
Ralph looked over to Ethan who was walking over to another boy. “Hey Ethan!” He called, “Can you come over here for a second?”
Ethan wandered over and looked at Sam, “He’s not half filthy is he?” He allowed himself to laugh, “Only joking; you know how it is.” Ethan offered his hand and Sam stared at it bewildered. He had no idea what this man was doing, was he supposed to hold it?
Sam finally broke the awkward silence with, “I’m Sam.”
“Alrighty then Sam.” He smiled as he retracted his hand, “What brings you to Camp Boots On?”
Sam continued to stare timidly, “Ralph?” He squeaked through his trembling lips.
“Sam’s used to having a brother.” Ralph explained, “He’s not being rude or anything.” Sam nodded. “I think he wants to live with us.”
“Ahh.” Ethan said, “well, I’m not the boss here am I, heh-heh.” Ethan gulped in reaction to the tough crowd. “Well, um. You could speak to Ramsay; he’s the prime-Minister. He’s probably outside his cabin, planning new establishments with the architects.”
“Architects?” Ralph asked, “Like, house-people?”
“Yes. We’ve accepted that we are going to be here for a while. The least we can do is wait in comfort, hey?” He let out a quick ha-ha. “He’s a bit busy but I think he’ll be more than glad to talk to you guys. His cabin is the one at the end of the camp, the biggest one. You can’t miss it.”
“Okay then. Thanks mate.” Ralph smiled at Ethan as he walked Sam to the cabin.
“Oh and hey.” Ethan stopped them, “feel free to put in a good word for me. I’m bored of sleeping under a thatched roof with sticks!”
“Sure thing.”
They arrived at the cabin. It was about twelve-by-twelve feet and made out sticks. It didn’t have a door—like Ralph had assumed—and he didn’t want to knock the wall in case the whole thing fell down. “Hello? Ramsay? It’s me; Ralph!” From what he could see, there was just one room with a bed (made out of grass) and a bit of meat that sat on a leaf on the floor (that was made out of sand). The food was encrusted with ants and flies. Other than the insect-wildlife, the house was empty. “Hello?”
Ramsay walked out from the side of the cabin, “Oh hey Ralph. What brings you here? Oh, and who’s this?” He looked at the dirty boy named Sam.
“Hi, um. This is Sam. Can he, uhh, live with us?” Ralph asked, “He’s nice and all. I know him”
“Well, there’s always room for one more isn’t there.” He beamed, “My only concern is that we haven’t enough cabins. As I’m sure you’re aware, there are people sleeping in the streets. I’m actually planning shelters with the architects out back. Would you like to meet them, can you build stuff?”
Sam felt guilty about not helping Ralph with the shelters in their previous camp now. “I built….” He squeezed out.
Ralph turned to Sam, then back to Ramsay. “He’s shy. But don’t worry, he’s a great worker.”
“Okay then.” Ramsay smiled, “let’s go.” He led them to behind the cabin where a group of four fifteen-year-olds were making sketches in the sand with their fingers. There were two boys and two girls. Each them were very enthusiastic.
“Hey Ramsay,” one of the girls said, “I’ve got a plan. We could build a common-house. A bigger cabin—I’m thinking thirty-six by thirty-six—that could hold about four.” She explained excitedly, “Oh hi!” He said as she saw Sam and Ralph. “You know you can wash off in the sea.” She said, obviously speaking to Sam.
Sam felt insulted but couldn’t bring himself to speak. Ralph took the floor, “hi. I’m sure you remember me from last night,” The girl nodded, “Well, this is my friend Sam. And we were wandering if….” It wasn’t until then Ralph realized that he didn’t know why he was there. He remembered that they were architects and asked for a shelter.
“We could put you up in a temp.” She offered, “We only have one left so you’d only have one bed though.”
Ralph assumed that ‘temp’ meant a temporary house and nodded gratefully. Out of nowhere, Stephen walked into the backyard. “Oh hi. Am I interrupting anything?” His blonde hair shone under the light. “Ramsay, were going hunting now. Is that okay?”
Ramsay nodded, “be careful.”
“Thanks mate. See you at sundown.” Stephen walked away and told his hunters to come into position. Ralph watched with admiration at the man who could hunt and not become completely obsessed.
Chapter 14: Completely Alone
Jack stared angrily out at the ocean. He sat on a boulder that acted as a throne as he held his spear. He was a king, almighty ruler of his realm. The god of Castle Rock. Sharp, rocky surfaces towered above him, protecting him from the sun. Only a side of his face was illuminated, and that side didn’t look happy.
Eric knelt at his feet. His lips and chin were lined with blood and a few dried up droplets sat on his chest. “P—please I’m begging you.” He cried, “I don’t know where he is!”
Jack leant forward, “He’s your brother, of course you know where he is.” Jack spat in his face, “Now you will tell me or you will die!”
“NO! NO! Please! I wouldn’t lie to you!” He begged.
“I wouldn’t lie to you WHAT!” Jack snapped.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, ma—ma—master.” Eric shivered.
“Well, I don’t believe you.” Jack looked at him one last time, “now if you’ll excuse me. I have speech to make.” He grinned as he stood up. “Roger!” He called. Roger looked at him attentively. “Make him suffer….”
Jack walked out of his closing and looked at his minions. They all seemed to be talking at they sharpened their spears for the next hunt. “Subjects!” Jack shouted.
His slaves looked up at them with admiration. “You are not to worry. Eric will be taken care of, and Sam is long since dead.” Jack took a moment to pause and turn his head, “I hope you are ready for the festival!”
The crowd roared, “We will hunt and have the feast of a life time. We will watch as the jungle burns in flames. And we shall kill who ever objects. Yes subjects. The Festival of Flames is nigh!” He raised his fist and the crowd roared with excitement. “Everybody prepare, we will hunt now and get all of the food we need!”
Stephen watched in horror as the day unfolded. He instructed his hunters to stand back as he watched this animal talk to his slaves. “What’s he saying?” Thomas—another hunter—asked.
“I don’t know.” Stephen said as he watched Jack reenter the opening in the rocks, “I think he’s announcing something.” Stephen blended well with the bushes. His face-clay was only a few shades lighter than the foliage and his palm ghillie suit worked like a charm. He might as well be invisible.
“Should we go down and see?” Thomas asked.
“No,” Stephen answered, “I want to see what these kids are capable of.” Stephen thought about Jack and how he beat up another kid in choir. He also remembered what Ethan had told him; that jack killed Ralph’s tribe. “My expectations are high.”
Jack walked back into his throne room. Eric was lying on a stone slab and Roger was pinning him down with his left hand as he held a rock in his right. “You have one last chance, tell us where he is!” Roger shouted menacingly.
“I told you; I don’t—I don’t know!” Eric blurted out, “Please just let me go!”
“You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Roger said. He lifted the rock in his hand and giggled at Eric’s terrified expression. He smashed the rock into his temple and Eric’s head was instantly bashed in with a wet-splash sound. The dent was purple and blood was seeping out. His eyes rolled back and his hands loosened their grip.
Eric was dead. His head started to form a puddle of blood that dripped onto the floor. Roger stared with delight.
“He shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” He turned to face Jack, “boss.” He said sarcastically as he placed the bloodied rock in Jacks trembling hands.
The chief was mortified; he couldn’t believe that Roger actually went through with it. Eric’s pale, lifeless body stared at him. His right eye was now red due to the blood flowing into it. A trickle of blood started to assemble and rolled down his face. Jack had seen Piggy’s head explode under a rock. Jack had thrown a spear at a frightened twelve year old boy run for his life through a burning jungle. But this was too much.
This was one step to far.
“Aren’t you going to cut the head off?” Roger asked.
Jack had forgotten he was even there and jumped at his presence. “Yes. Of course.” He conformed, afraid of the new beast; afraid of Roger.
The savage held out a sharp stone and Jack grabbed it with his right hand.
He placed his damp, left hand on Eric’s shoulder and held the blade towards it. He looked back at Roger’s stern face and knew he had to do it. He stabbed into the neck. Red liquid quickly dribbled out of the gap and expanded as it hit the slab’s surface.
He unwillingly pulled his hand to the left, and let the gap expand. More and more blood trickled out as he sliced through the thick skin. He felt himself gagging almost every other second as the wound grew bigger.
He felt the neck resist destruction as he neared the center. He could see blood start to ooze out of Eric’s mouth. He forced the knife through the carotid artery and blood started gushing wildly. Jack threw up and Roger pushed him out of the way and snatched the stone.
Jack watched in disgust as Roger sliced off the head without any visible difficulty. Blood sloshed onto his body and he laughed. He jabbed the bones with his bloodied fists and the cracked almost instantly. Finally it was ready.
Roger ripped the head from the body with a quick tug and watched as the blood fell to the floor. Skin and gore dangled from the opening and Eric’s mouth fell open, allowing a river of blood to flow out. Jack threw up once more as Roger took the trophy onto the rock balcony.
“Everybody!” Roger shouted as he raised the head, “this is what happens if you betray us!” The kids gawked at the head. Blood continued to trickle and collected on Roger’s foot.
Some of the little’un’s started to cry; the head clearly terrified them, not that Roger cared. He held Eric’s face to his own and licked the blood of his chin. “We shall impale the head and discard the body right away. Somebody fetch me the stick we were going to use for Ralph!”
In a matter of seconds, a stick with two sharpened ends was handed to the monster. He jumped from the rock balcony and walked across the bridge that leads to the rest of the island. As soon as he set foot on penetrable ground, he drove the stick into the floor.
He held the head now with both hands and wedged it onto the stick. It made sick sounds as it got pulled down. Roger stopped pressurizing it as the tip of the spear hit the skull. More children crowded around him and watched with feelings of terror and glee.
Blood was now leaking down the stick through the bottom and out of his mouth. Roger pulled his tongue through his mouth and rolled the eyes facing away from each other. He stepped back to appreciate his art, “looks quite good.” He remarked.
He left the other kids to make up their own minds and walked back to Castle Rock. He found Jack sobbing on the floor in the throne room. “Why are you crying, Jack? Are you a girl?” He teased.
“Shut up Roger.” Jack cried, “I’m chief and you’ll give me respect!” Jack’s bright red face was wet with tears and mucus. “So just—shut up!”
Roger didn’t back off, he stared at the pathetic, weeping boy that sat in the corner and laughed. “What are you going to do? Cut my head off?” He laughed, “Face it, mate. You haven’t got it in you. Just let me be chief.”
Jack was horrified, Roger couldn’t be chief. He was a true savage, a true maniac; a killer. He rose to his feet and dashed to Roger. “I am chief of this tribe! Not you! So…just—back off!” Jack couldn’t think of words to express himself.
Roger raised an eyebrow, “I’m not going anywhere.” He shoved Jack and he fell back. “We shall kill whoever objects, huh? Well Jack, tell me this. Are you objecting?”
“No, you’re objecting!” He rose to his feet again, “I am the chief! Don’t forget your place! Peasant!” He swung a fist at Roger who took the blow like it was nothing.
He smiled sadistically and swung back. His fist smashed into Jacks jaw and he fell into the wall. He kicked into his kidney and he crumpled to the floor. Roger pulled him to his feet by his hair and threw him into the stone slab.
Roger held Jack by the throat and forced him onto the slab. “Jack, let me be chief.” He paused to let the fear sink in, “or else, I will kill you.” He relinquished his grip and Ralph fell to the floor, gasping for air.
Roger exited the throne room to let Jack make his decision. Jack knelt on the floor, red-faced and gasping for air. He couldn’t believe what just happened, he was going to have to step down from being chief. Maybe it was for the better, he thought.
“Wow.” Thomas remarked to Stephen who remain camouflaged at the vantage point. “Should we go back now?”
“Yes.” Stephen answered, “I think we’ve seen enough.” The four teenagers crept back to camp, scarred by what they had just witnessed.
At Camp Boots-On, Ralph and Sam were in their ‘temp’. It was like Ethan’s house; a single bed under a thatched roof. “I think you should take the bed first.” Sam said, “And we could alternate.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Ralph agreed, “But you can have it first. I slept in Ethan’s bed last night, I’m well rested, you must be pretty shook up though.”
“Yeah.” Sam agreed, “I think I’m going to wash off in the ocean.” He headed off to the shore and Ralph walked over to the center of the camp. Athena was there, selling cloth.
“Hi, Athena is it?” Ralph asked.
“Hello. Yes I’m Athena, and of course, I remember you from the feast. How have you been?”
“I slept well, I was just wandering, can I buy a blanket?”
“Um, of course. I have,” She turned around to check her inventory, “grey and brown. But Stephen promised to bring black soon. He says he saw some kind of black-furred animal in the jungle the other day.”
“Fur?” Ralph asked, “don’t you sell cloth?”
“Sure, I mean, kind of. Its fur.” She said, almost guiltily, “like what Stephen sells but I wash it out so it’s fluffier.”
“How do you wash it out?”
“Ah, that’s a secret, now, which color? What size?”
“Can I have a brown? Any size will do.”
“Okay, here you go.” She handed him to fur blanket with a smile, “you don’t have to pay. Considering what you’ve been through”
He rubbed his face against the blanket, it was comfy; he would sleep well tonight. “Thank you.” He smiled as he walked back to the cabin to speak with Ramsay.
“Hi Ralph? Like the temp?” He asked, “I would put you up in a cabin but there is a waiting list.” He trailer off.
“Oh no, its fine. It’s better than sleeping under a few twigs, I can tell you that.” For the first time in weeks, Ralph laughed.
“You were sleeping under twigs? That’s unfortunate,” Ramsay smiled, “I think I’ve seen you before, before you arrived at the camp.”
“Um, do you mean in England?”
“No, on the island. I saw you walking to the beach when we first arrived, then I heard a conch. Did you have anything to do with that?”
Ralph swallowed, “can we speak in private please.”
“Sure thing,” Ramsay said as he instructed the architects to take a break and leave them alone. “So what’s the deal?”
“It’s a long story,” Ralph warned.
“Ralph, we are going to be on this island indefinitely, we have all the time in the world.”
Ralph exhaled and told him about what had happened. About Jack and the savages, about Piggy and Simon. He told him about the shelters and the fight for control, he told him about the chase. And how it all began, with the simple conch.
“Well, that explains a lot,” Ramsay remarked after an hours’ worth of listening, “when we first crashed. I rounded up all of the older kids I could find, they were just as confused as you were. I heard the conch and saw little kids walking towards it. So we decided that we’d go the other way, and leave you to live by yourselves. That way, we wouldn’t be held back by little children. It wasn’t the right thing to do, but we’ve certainly thrived.”
Ralph nodded, “well, I just wanted to know.” Wanting an excuse to leave.
Luckily, Stephen walked in, “hey guys. I think we found something.”
“What is it?” Ramsay asked, “A pig reserve or something.”
“No, it’s a camp. A camp of savages, I recognized one of them. His name is Jack. Jack Meridew.”
Ralph sprung to life, “Jack! You saw him?”
“Indeed.” Stephen confirmed, “He appeared to be announcing a celebration, the crowd liked it. And then another boy came out, he was quite muscular. He was holding a severed head.”
Ralph was astonished, “what did the head look like?”
Sam walked into the conversation, now glimmering with sea water.
“It was him,” Stephen said, pointing to Sam, “It looks exactly like him.”
“Who? What?” Sam asked confused.
“Sam,” Ralph started, “we think Eric has been murdered.”
Sam dropped the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to cry, or even speak. He just starred at the floor. Consoling his sadness. Ralph knelt down beside him, “Sam, are you alright?”
Sam was clearly not alright, he was devastated. Stephen tried to be comforting but couldn’t hold his tongue, “I fear that they will kill more if they are not stopped.”
………………………………………
Back at Castle Rock, Roger was staring at Eric’s head. He was impressed by his fine craftsmanship. “Roger.” A little’un shyly asked. “Please don’t kill me.” The little’un shook for a second and then ran back to the fortress.
“Don’t worry, child. I won’t hurt you.” Roger murmured, “Not yet at least.”
The little’un returned to his friends, “I think he’s going silly.” He explained. “We should hide.”
“Like hide and seek?” Another little’un asked.
“Yes, let’s find our spot.”
………………………………………
Sam wandered back to his temp. He lied down on the bed, closed his eyes and thought about Eric.
“I appreciate the seriousness of the situation at hand but war just isn’t possible,” Ramsay explained, “If you want to take your hunters and talk to them then you are welcome to. But I will not allow my citizens to murder a group of savage children!”
“If we don’t stop them, then they will kill more innocent people.” Stephen argued, “they have already killed and decapitated one child, who’ to say they won’t continue.”
“It doesn’t matter, Stephen! They are savages! They are all savages! Who cares if they kill each other? At the end of the day, the world will have a few less insane killers!” Ramsay shouted.
“I care! There are six-year-old children there! Who’s to say that they won’t suffer the same fate as Eric?” Stephen’s face was bright red, “I am taking my hunters down there now! And if you don’t like it then you can…”
Ralph tried not to listen as the two elders swore at each other but he couldn’t help it. “Everybody! Listen to me!” He shouted, “I know these people, I have seen them murder people. I watched as they dropped a boulder on my best friend’s head. They will kill you!”
“They can’t kill us, they’re tiny! I could snap them like tooth picks!”
“Well,” Ramsay decided to compromise, “you can talk to them, but if any blood if spilled. You will be banished from Camp Boots On!”
“Fine then. We set off tonight. Ralph, you can join us. I’m sure you’ll be interested in the outcome.” Stephen deserted the two boys to prepare himself for the massacre that was to come, he was going to kill these abominations, and nothing could stop him.
………………………………………
Roger made a grimace as he watched Jack continue to cry in the corner, “Are you finished yet?” He asked.
Jack looked up at him, teary eyed. “Please, we’ve done well. Just let me be chief, you know you can’t lead this children.” He sobbed, “And you don’t have to kill me.”
Roger considered this, “well, I am going to be leader. I will let you decide how you give me the power. I’d take the feast of Eric into consideration.”
Jack looked baffled, “The feast of Eric?”
“Oh, you didn’t forget did you?” Roger laughed, “We have to eat Eric. Its ceremonial or at least it will be soon.”
“You’re not chief you never will be. You’re just damn pathetic!”
Roger’s eye twitched with fury. “You don’t talk to me like that!” He shouted. He lashed out and viciously attacked Jack. He started pummeling his face until his knuckles had specs of blood on it.
Jack’s nose was bloody and broken, his lips were smashed open and his teary eyes were surrounded by dark-purple skin. Roger kicked him in the face and Jack screamed in pain, “Please, just leave me alone!”
Roger ignored Jack’s cries for mercy. He stormed over to Eric’s headless body and ripped a chunk of meat from his gore-filled throat.
He lifted Jack to his feet, by the neck this time and stuffed the meat in his bloodied mouth. “Eat it, Jack! You did this! This is all your fault!”
Jack tried to refuse the chunk but Roger shoved it down his throat. Jack screamed in agony as he kicked and screamed, hoping for a way out. He eventually swallowed the chunk without chewing. It was thick and tasted like pig.
He started gagging, the same way he did when he decapitated Eric. Although the meat itself had gone down, his mouth was lined with the blood. Roger released jack and he sunk to his knees. Jack looked up and watched Jack through teary eyes as he pulled out another piece of gore.
Jack had decided that he’d seen enough. He rose to his feet and sprinted at Roger before bringing him down with a violent tackle. Roger was brought down to the floor and Jack started frantically smashing his face with his fists.
Roger tried to gasp for air but his windpipe got pummeled by Jack’s hand. Roger started to resist and rolled Jack off his chest. The both rose to their feet and stared into each other’s eyes, although all they could see was red.
“So, this is it isn’t Jackie boy?” Roger mocked.
“Shut up Roger! I hate you! And I’ve always hated you!”
“Don’t try to be cool Jack; you’ll always be the kid that peed himself at choir practice!”
Jack had lost it; he screamed and unleashed all of his strength on Roger. His frenzied fists make contact with Roger’s high cheek bones and bruised him right to the bone. “Ouch, that actually hurts you stupid, damn Nazi!” Roger screamed.
Roger grabbed for the sharp rock and started swinging at Jack. He slashed him across the chest as he strafed back. Blood started to come out of the wound and Jack cried.
Roger continued to swing. He slashed and sliced at Jack’s arm. The cuts were deep and hit several veins at a time. Blood was now pouring out of Jack’s body at a critical rate; he knew that this was the end.
Jack kept staffing back and trying to get to the balcony. He quickly dashed to his left but his bicep was greeted by the pointed stone. “Jack, just let it go.” Roger offered, “let me be chief, and I’ll let you live.”
Jack considered his position and answered with, “No! I would rather die!” Roger swung at his face with the rock and time seemed to slow down. Jack knelt down and the stone-blade swooped half-an-inch above his hair. He pivoted on his left leg and he went down and reached for a rock with his right hand. He clutched the closet one and rose to his feet.
He was now behind Roger who was still articulating what had just happened. His surprised face met Jacks and Jack smashed his temple with the rock.
Roger fell to the ground and cupped his head; he was bleeding. He looked up to face Jack and was greeted by a second rock to the face. His nose and cheekbones were smashed and bleeding excessively.
“You made me do this.” Jack told Roger as he lifted the rock high above his head. Roger was borderline-paralyzed and could do nothing but watch with astonishment as Jack killing him
“HELLO?” An unfamiliar voice shouted from outside.
Jack shot Roger and warning look and walked onto the balcony to see his guest.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Jack Meridew.” Stephen remarked from the bridge. “How have you been doing?”
Jack was blown-away. He almost couldn’t recognize Stephen due to the face-camouflage and the palm-leaf ghillie suit. “Ste—Stephen?” He asked from the balcony, “What are you doing here? This is my castle!”
“Well, Meridew. I’ve heard you’ve been up to some bad things.” Stephen started approaching Castle Rock, “Would murdering innocent people ring a bell? I admire you handiwork with the head by the way; it was very professional.”
“That—that wasn’t me! I don’t kill people; Roger does!” He turned back to see Roger still sitting in the corner, recovering from his gaping head-wound. “But that doesn’t matter! What are you doing here? Castle Rock is for kids only!”
All of Jack’s slaves seemed to agree with mighty cheers.
“I’m here to stop you from whatever it is you’re doing! If a single drop of innocent blood is spilled because of your actions. Then you shall suffer the consequences!” Stephen was now on the rocky surface, surrounded by the children.
“Ha-ha. What are you going to do Stephen? You can’t defeat my mighty warriors!”
“Maybe not by myself, that’s why I brought friends.” Green-painted figures emerged from the tree line. They all were lesser-quality ghillie suits and wielded different weapons: one had a dagger; another held a spear and the third wielded a hand-crafted bow. “Don’t even try to attack us.”
Jack cocked his head to the side to inspect the crew threatening him, and grimaced. “Warriors!” He looked at Stephen one last time, “kill them.”
Out of nowhere, a squad of five eleven year olds sprung from of the bushes and injected Stephen with their spears. Stephen dropped his weapon and stared with disbelief as the group of children removed their spears from his body, they were now bloodied sticks.
Stephen fell to his knees. He had five massive wounds, each of which pumping out a vile amount of fluid. The teenager spat blood out of his mouth before falling on his face, and relinquishing his grip on humanity.
“KILL THEM!” Thomas shouted from the bridge. He started sprinting at the group of children and held his spear up high. The other two complied, Oliver advanced with his dagger in hand and the third one lifted his bow.
The second Thomas stepped foot on the rocky fort, he drove his spear through the face of the closet spear-wielding savage. The boy’s brain was impaled to the stick and a flurry of blood shot out the back of his head.
A second boy raised his spear to Thomas’s back and Oliver sent an arrow through his throat. The savage coughed up blood and fell to the floor.
Another savage came just in time for Thomas to wrench his spear through his gut, he cried in pain as the tip slashed his organs into nothing more but bloodied meat. The fourth child to materialize was met by a dagger that positioned itself between his two red eyes. A thick line of blood shot out from his forehead and he too crashed to the floor.
The fifth boy in the party of spears ran away but received Thomas’s death blow anyways. The group of teenagers roared at any who tried who approach them. “Jack!” Thomas roared, “Just be civil! There is no need for this kind of violence!”
Jack maintained his position on the balcony, disappointed by his disciple’s performances. “No! Who do you think you are! To walk into my base and murder my citizens!”
The dagger-hunter and Oliver took strategic positions. The dagger boy stood next to the cliff that dropped to the ocean, whereas Oliver stood by the hill where Roger dropped the rock on Piggy. Thomas stood in the middle.
“Just stop killing people!” Thomas shouted.
Jack seemed to smile, “if only it were that simple.” He nodded to a group of little’uns at the top of the hill. They all pushed against a boulder which sat at the edge of the hill, the rock fell off and hit Oliver in the head.
His head blew open, brain and skull fragments were scattered on the floor and he fell. The boulder rolled into the jungle, much like Piggy’s did. Oliver now laid face down with his arms spread out and his head ripped wide open.
Blood was coming out of every orifice above the neck and flies started assembling around his brain. This time, there was no silence.
Jack roared to life immediately, “You brought this upon yourselves, calling yourselves hunters. Just leave, leave and never come back! Castle Rock is reserved for those who can actually kill.”
The two remaining hunters stood motionless, they couldn’t believe what they had just witnessed. “I said go!” Jack screamed. The two hunters ran way, and walked in silence back to Camp Boots On.
Ralph sat next to Sam. He mused about what was happening over at Castle Rock. Whether or not Jack was still breathing. “Sam?” He asked.
He received no response, Sam was asleep. “Goodnight Sam, goodnight.” He left him to sleep peacefully and walked over to Ramsay.
“Its seven o’clock.” Ramsay declared to Ralph, “They should have been back sooner.”
“What do you think they’re doing?” Ralph asked, “You don’t think they actually killed anybody do you?”
“I have no idea what they’re doing.” Ramsay looked deeply into Ralph’s eyes, “I just hope they don’t do anything stupid.”
The two hunters walked out of the tree line and approached Ramsay. “Why are there only two of you?” Ramsay asked concerned, “why are you sprinkled with blood? What the hell happened!”
“Um. Well, we went to talk to them. But when Stephen walked over, they killed him.” Thomas stammered, “So we had to take action.” He showed them the bloody weapons.
“Then they killed Oliver.” The dagger-hunter finished.
Ramsay raised an eyebrow, “so they dealt the first blow?” He didn’t seem to care about the casualties, just that they died with manors. “Well, that’s good because at least we’re not savages.”
Ralph was confused, this was a good thing? “So, what are we going to do now? Go and get revenge?”
“No,” Ramsay answered, “Let’s let them come to us.”
………………………………………
Jack walked back into his throne room to find Roger still sitting against the wall. “Did you see that?” Jack asked. “You’re not the only one that can kill people!”
Roger tried to laugh but his head was throbbing too much, “you can kill me, Jack.” He took a second to chuckle, “But eventually, fate will catch up with you.”
“Oh will it? Because with you out of the picture, I think I will do quite well.” Jack picked up the sharp rock and grinned. “You can’t say that you didn’t object.”
Roger looked at the rock, pondering the faint possibility that he could die. Jack pulled Roger to the table, he was still borderline-paralyzed and didn’t have strength to resist, he could just watch. He was now lying down with his limbs extended, like an alien being dissected in a movie.
Jack held the rock to Rogers’s throat with just enough pressure to allow a scar. “I am going to let you live, given that you never forget your place again!” He threw the rock into the corner and walked over to the big gap in the wall which allowed him to gaze out at the sea. “Hurry now, Roger. Your fans are waiting. Little’uns admire how you can just rip the body of a child apart.”
Roger slowly rose to his feet and glared at Jack as he stood by the hole. “Hey Jack. If you had one flaw, it would the level of trust you instill in your comrades.”
Jack turned around, “go on?”
Roger sneered, “Actions speak louder than words, Jack.” He quickly charged at the chief and shoved him with all of his strength. Jack tippled back and fell out of the hole.
He started to plummet down the side if the island and let out a blood-curdling scream. He fell back first and his arms trailed like that of a rag-doll’s. His blind-sided body hit a rock and his spine was crushed to dust almost instantly. Blood sprayed out of his mouth and a wave covered the rock. As it retreated, it took the corpse of what used to be a chief with it.
“Good riddance.” Roger remarked as he held his temple. He walked onto the balcony to talk to his newly-found subjects, “People!” He shouted, “I have good news and bad news.”
The children listened tentatively, “Which would you like to hear first?” Roger asked. The savages screamed bad and Roger continued, “the bad news is that Jack is dead; he tripped off the side of the mountain.”
The savages were concerned and questions surfaced almost instantly, “How did he die? Was it quick? Who will be chief now?”
“His death was painless,” Roger announced, “And now the good news. I will be your new chief, and things are going to be a lot better.” The savages seemed to cheer for this new government, “We will start with a feast! It shall be tonight!” The savages cheered ecstatically.
Chapter 15: Hiroshima
Ralph sat in the silence, everybody had glum expressions. This dinner was a quiet one; Ramsay didn’t start his nightly speech until Athena broke the silence with a cough.
“Um, Prime-Minister.” She said timidly, “I think that you should talk to the people.” Ramsay wasn’t in the mood for talking, he grimly looked at the slab of meat in front of him, “Um, people are worried.”
“DAMN IT ATHENA!” He snapped, throwing his meat along the sand, “SHUT UP! I’m trying my best to think of plans! Do you have any idea how hard it is to be me right now?” Everybody allowed their jaws to drop as Ramsay’s anger unfolded, “I’m going to bed.” He stood up and stomped to his cabin.
Athena watched him go before speaking, “He’s just stressed out. Stephen and Joseph are the first casualties we’ve had.” She looked at the intent listeners, “but I fear they will not be the last. From what I’ve heard, those people are crazy. If they managed to kill two of our finest warriors, then they will have no problem with the rest of us.”
Ralph raised his hand to speak, Athena nodded to him. “I’ve lived with these people for several weeks.” He explained, “I know how their minds work; well, they don’t work. They kill everybody that gets in their way; they even kill those who don’t. I never did anything to them, but they chased me through a burning forest. Stephen died by his own hand in my opinion. You cannot talk to these people, they won’t listen. The only way to get their attention is by killing them, but even that is easier said than done. If you want to stop them, the only way is brute-force.”
The citizens of Boots On were confused, the only hunters they have are either dead or immobilized by fear. A fourteen-year-old girl raised her hand, “I practiced archery on my farm back in England. Stephen didn’t let me join his group because ‘hunting is for boys’. I’d be glad to help kill those savages.”
This girl’s confidence inspired more and more people to join the new group of hunters. Within a minute, the whole camp wanted to help hunt and kill the monsters on the other side of the island. “Ralph, you should lead us!” One suggested.
“Yeah! Ralph, you are our new prime-minster!” Called another.
“RALPH! RALPH! RALPH!” The group started chanting.
Ralph blushed as he accepted this new position, he silenced he chant by holding up his hand, “so it is decided. We will attack tonight! Sharpen your spears people, because tonight, there will be no mercy!”
………………………………………
“Hmm, Roger, this meat is delicious.” A little’un commented, “What did you do to it?”
“I did nothing; it’s a special kind of meat.” Roger informed from his seat in the soil.
“Really? What is it?” The little’un asked eagerly.
“It’s very rare; we hunted the only one on the island!”
“Wow!” The savages remarked in awe, “What is it?”
“It’s Eric.” Roger grinned.
The table went silent and expressions of disgust started to arise. “Eric?” One of the savages asked. Roger nodded and everybody screamed and started to vomit. The group split up and raced for spots to throw up in.
Half of the assembly started crying and many ran into the jungle. “Hey! Come back!” Roger demanded, but his subjects were disgusted and terrified. Cries of terror were already erupting from deep within the greenery.
Roger rose to his feet and grabbed the arm of a little’un trying to run away. “No! Please! Let me go!” He screamed.
“You’re not going anywhere!” Roger shouted as he wrung the child’s neck. The body of the child fell to the floor like a ragdoll and a small line of blood trailed from his mouth that still had its baby-teeth.
Roger was furious; he couldn’t believe he was being abandoned. “Come back!” He screamed, “I will kill you all! I will kill you just like I did Jack and Piggy! COME BACK!” Roger was now the only one still at Castle Rock, he picked up a spear and started hunting; this time without Jack holding him back.
………………………………………
Cries of shear horror pervaded the jungle and could be heard echoing all the way to Camp Boots On. “Do you hear that?” Ralph asked Athena as they sharpened spears.
“Yeah, I think they’re killing people again!” Athena said worriedly, “Oh god. We need to leave. NOW!”
“You’re right, I’ll call the citizens!” Ralph said, he ran to the camp-fire and screamed at the top of his lungs, “EVERYBODY! GATHER UP!” In a matter of seconds, the group had assembled and Ralph was briefing them.
“Alright everybody. As you can hear, people are dying in the jungle. It is probably Jack and Roger trying to kill them. They are monsters and they will them, unless we stop them. If you have a weapon, prepare to fight and if you don’t, I hope you’re good with your fists!” He looked at his warriors; they all had weapons and ghillie suit-pants. Their legs were covered with dead palms and everything above was smeared with green and brown clay, “LETS DO THIS!”
The Camp roared mightily and charged into the jungle with their weapons held high. Now the jungle was filled with two kinds of screams, and two sides running into battle curelessly. Ralph waited until his militia had entered the tree-line before running in himself.
He held the butt of his spear against his chest and had it ready to stab anything that was covered with red and black clay. His green men sprinted into the terror and shouted as they did so, some chanted, “kill them all!” While others screamed, “Show no mercy!”
The savages unconsciously ran from Roger, who had already killed two of them with his bloodied spear. “I will kill you all and drink your blood!” He screamed, “Come back! Come back you damned cowards!”
As suspected, none of his followers came back, they just ran. The ones that decided to hide got stabbed by Roger or trampled to death by others fleeing death.
The Boots On hunters were now nearing the line of escapees. Their screams of terror were mistaken as war-cries and a fifteen-year-old boy struck the first blow.
His spear ripped through the gut of the savage nearest to him. The black and red painted figure yelled in pain as his small intestine was bloodily ripped apart by the point of the stick. Blood and bodily-acids squirted out of the hole and splattered the dirt floor. When the spear penetrated the back, the savage doubled over and allowed blood to be evacuated from his mouth and strewn over the ground. His eyes got wider and more panicky as his body numbed and the spear drove deeper. Finally, the green-warrior ripped the spear from the victim’s abdomen and his small intestine followed and blood splashed his skin. The violated body fell to the floor and shuddered violently; the war had begun.
The savages that had seen the death didn’t have the foresight to run away. They too got stabbed and died. Blood now lined the floor and guts lied strewn in the bushes. The Boots On hunters continued to murder those who greeted them with cries. It wasn’t long until they had forgotten their purpose and were killing without remorse.
The savages eventually wizened up to the militia approaching them and ran back towards Roger who surely was easier to escape. Only the elite of those caught in the middle could out-run the advancing hunters. Many of them got pierced and smashed to the ground, a few of them were lucky enough to be injured but damage was definitely dealt.
Roger laughed manically as he saw his pack sprint towards him. He picked a considerably big stick off the ground and used it as a club. It was four inches wide, two feet long and was very heavy. The first unsuspecting savage that approached him was smashed in the skull by the club.
His forehead was fiercely ripped open and his frontal bone was smashed into pieces. The boy’s brain was clubbed by the stick and became inactive almost instantly. His body fell to the ground and his ripped-open head creating a rapidly-expanding puddle of blood.
Roger swung the club in circles with triumph and ran to the group of terrified children. In-between Roger and a pack Boots On soldiers stood a group of horrified little’uns. They were painted red and black and were screaming loudly; a target for both threats.
The hunters hit the pack of little’uns first. Their bodies were savagely torn limb from limb with spectacular fireworks of blood. Roger started clubbing those closest to him and within a minute the only things that separated the predators were the butchered children.
The hunters identified Roger as yet another red and black figure, only this one was covered with blood.
Roger looked at the hunters and recognized them from their assault at Castle Rock; they were definite enemies. Roger snarled and started swinging the massive club. The first hunter he struck was hit in the jaw and fell over as his mandible swung from his skull. Blood was pouring out and he was immobilized by the pain and surprise.
The hunters lifted their spears at the nimble Roger who ducked and swung at one of their knees. The knee-cap was shot back and the leg cracked loudly. The hunter lost his footing and fell to the floor screaming.
Roger quickly rose to his feet and pivoted. His club hit one of the hunter’s in the back of the skull and his brain was destroyed instantly. The remaining three hunters couldn’t turn fast enough and one fell after receiving the stick just above their ear. Blood poured out and he died.
Roger faced the remaining two; one had a crazed blood-thirst in his eyes whereas the other was filled with fear. The crazed one stabbed with his spear and Roger strafed out of the way before striking his neck. His esophagus was broken instantly and he died as well. Roger loved saving the best for last, and there was nothing better than a terrified Ralph.
The two boys stared into each other’s eyes and grunted angrily. Roger noticed subdued tears in Ralph’s eyes and his spear was still clean, “I knew it would come down to this.” Roger said.
“I hoped it wouldn’t.” Ralph admitted. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to kill each other.”
“I know we don’t have too,” Roger said as he got a step close to the dismayed Ralph, “but I really want to!”
Roger swung out at Ralph’s head and time slowed down. Ralph quickly jumped back and watched in horror as the club missed his face by millimeters. He quickly found the floor with his shaky feet and stabbed at Roger. The tip of his spear invaded Roger’s upper thigh before speedily exiting.
Blood trickled out of the wound but Roger didn’t care. Ralph stabbed again in the same spot. The cut grew and more blood came out. Roger screamed and swung at Ralph. The club hit him in the arm and his whole body was thrown into the bushes.
His arm was purple and throbbing badly. He tried to get to his feet but couldn’t. Roger brought the club down on his thigh. It cracked and Ralph screamed in unbearable pain. He smashed his leg again and the bone broke into pieces.
“OW!” Ralph cried, “PLEASE STOP!”
Roger laughed and struck his leg again, “do you want me to stop hitting your leg?” Roger laughed, “I guess the head must be feeling pretty ignored then!” He forced Ralph to his feet and held him by his hair. He held the club out behind him and prepared for a lot of blood-splatter.
He swung the club again but Ralph pushed forward, Roger lost his balance and dropped the club. Ralphed punched at Roger who was filled with genuine fear, the green-hunter fell on top of Roger and continued to beat his face.
Roger punched Ralph in the face and he fell off him. He rolled onto his back and Roger stood up. Ralph was nearly paralyzed, his leg was completely broken and he couldn’t crawl away; he could only watch.
“You know, it’s quite funny,” Roger chuckled, “this is exactly how I killed Eric.” He held the rock above his head and laughed one last time.
Before he could bring the rock down, a sharp stone tied to a stick was wedged between his eyes. Blood dribbled from where the stone was and Roger’s body fell to its knees before falling on its face. Blood started to create a puddle and Ralph could see Roger’s brain.
The boy looked up to see who had saved him. It was Sam.
He had no green on him but he was still there, his stomach had thin drops of blood on it and his face was filled with fear.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been here sooner.” He said quietly and Ralph stared up at him with amazement.
“You…you…saved me.” Ralph managed to say.
“Yes I did. It was the least I could do.” Sam extended his arm to help Ralph up from the ground. Ralph took the hand and leaned on Sam who was happy to help, “I think you should tell your soldiers to stop now, chief.” Sam beamed at Ralph with admiration just like Piggy did when they first arrived.
The two boys watched and saw the hunters barbarically killing the savages, “I don’t think we can.” Ralph said as he felt himself get filled with a newly found fear, “I don’t think we can.”
The hunters were deranged with red-eyes. They were ripping the savages apart with their bloodied spears; they were unstoppable. “What do we do now?” Sam asked.
“We hide.” The two boys wandered to Castle Rock to escape the new savages, they exchanged thoughts as they did.
It was dark by the time they had arrived, the boys waited in Castle Rock, allowing the island to become a savage play-ground. Darkness encompassed the island as the savages killed each other. The two skinny boys held each other in the darkness, protecting one another from possible danger. The brutal hunt played itself out and the two boys eventually fell asleep. They were all pawns now, in the Lord of the Flies’ twisted games.
………………………………………
A lone bearded man ran across the shore, weakly waving at the passing motorboat. His wrinkled face was lined with liver-spots. The old man eventually fell to the ground, exhausted.
The passing motor-boat turned around and drove to the island. A tanned man in his twenties jumped off the boat and onto the sand, “Hello?” He called, the man was clearly American. He walked over to the dying man on the shore and splashed his face with water, “Hello? What is your name?”
The old man regained conscientiousness; he coughed out one syllable before succumbing to the cold embrace of death, “Ralph.”
Rationale
All of the events in my story contributed to the plot and provided symbolism to a certain extent. I like to believe my plot is plausible and if you don’t believe that it is then just read this rationale.
This story picks up where the original left off; with Jack and his tribe chasing Ralph through the jungle. I didn’t think that a random naval officer standing on the beach seemed right, so in my version Ralph isn’t lucky enough to be saved by one. He gets stabbed in the leg and is saved by the falling tree. Considering Jack and his tribe’s state of mind, they are delusional and highly gullible; making it plausible that they believe Ralph is actually dead.
While Ralph is in a coma, he dreams of being back in England. This symbolizes the shred of humanity that is still alive inside of him and how he prioritizes rescue in the most drastic of times. It also fore-shadows him waking up in a civilized place—Camp Boots On.
Whenever I ran the ‘hidden civilization’ past anybody, they said it wasn’t plausible because Jack would have found it. That is not necessarily true; Jack, Simon and Ralph scanned the island when they first arrived. The teenagers were still in the jungle and hadn’t begun developing their ‘town’ yet. So of course, there was nothing to be found. As the story progresses, you find out that the teenagers were avoiding the children the whole time, making it nearly impossible for them to be discovered.
The camp symbolizes civilization and stability. It takes a while for Ralph and Sam to assimilate into civilization. They are baffled by handshakes and friendliness. This, of course, symbolizes how the island has changed them and turned them into savages to a certain degree.
Roger kills Eric and Jack because I thought it would be improper for his nudge in Castle Rock (Chapter 11) to have gone unnoticed. Also, the fact he kills two people to become chief symbolizes how humans are only motivated by power and will do anything to obtain it.
The story ends with a bloody massacre in the jungle. The Camp Boots On hunters are killing everybody else. This symbolizes that war is a permanent thing and that people will resort to violence even when it unnecessary and humans can become animals whenever they want. Also, the two sides are painted differently. The Camp Boots On soldiers wear green; they represent the US and the UK. The savages wear red and black, this represents the Nazi’s. However, at the end of the book, the Camp Boots On soldiers turn into savages, this represents the dark side of humanity and when the US dropped the atom bomb on Japan.
The story ends with Ralph finally getting saved, but he is an old man. This symbolizes that life continues even when he is stuck on an island. He is saved by vacationer on a motorboat which was a rare thing before World War II, the motor-boat stands for the evolution in society.
The message behind this story is that no matter what the circumstances are, people will wage war upon one another and humanity’s violent nature will prevail.
