Chapter Text
Ralph was crouching in the sand with his arms up, his entire body shaking with fear. Tears threatened to pour out. His breath came out in shallow rasps. The sand dug into his knees.
In the distance he could hear the yelling of the hunters, getting closer with every second. Ralph knew he was done for.
“KILL THE PIG! CUT HIS THROAT! KILL THE PIG!”
He felt a droplet of sweat roll off his nose and drip to the ground. Ralph had his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to calm himself. He took a deep breath through his nose, the salty seawater smell waking him.
Now though the chanting was right in front of him. Pure terror crawled its way up his spine only to anchor itself in his spiralling thoughts.
This was it. He was going to die.
He reluctantly opened his eyes to find a group of boys covered in various paints, sweaty bodies and blood lust in their eyes. But one stare was more intense than the rest.
Ralph’s eyes met them. Blue orbs filled with madness. The rest of them were still singing and pointing their sharpened sticks at Ralph; some of the littluns had started dancing around the circle.
The breath in his throat hitched.
Only the two of them were still. They looked at each other in hate, the love from the beginning now buried deep down. Neither wanting to accept the other.
The hunters, now having grown impatient, started poking at Ralph. “OWW STOP!” he tried to sound chief-like, but his voice came out like a pathetic plea. His arms wrapped around his face in protection.
Jack licked his pale lips.
He held up his knife and ordered his underlings to stop. Ralph, now lying in the sand, lowered his guard and looked up.
“I AM CHIEF!” Jack yelled.
The group erupted into a messy cheer. Ralph slowly sat up.
“WHO IS CHIEF?” Jack loudly asked. Everybody answered back with “You!” or “Jack!” Ralph stayed silent. Sand gathered under his fingernails as he tried to keep himself upright.
Jack had a displeased expression on his face, his eyebrows tightening. He pointed his knife at Ralph and growled, “WHO IS CHIEF!”
All eyes shifted to the wounded boy sitting in the sand. The words didn’t register in Ralph’s mind, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
Jack moved closer, his knife now inches away from Ralph’s face. Brown eyes followed the weapon; there was dried pig’s blood on the blade.
“This is the last time I ask you… who is chief,” Jack’s voice was threatening, making sure to jab the knife forward after he finished his sentence. The hunters had long stopped yelling the answer and prepared their wooden sticks. Once the chief attacked, it was free range for all.
Ralph took a deep breath and, as calmly as he could, answered, “You, Jack. You.” The words tasted like bitter medicine on his tongue.
A menacing grin grew on Jack’s face. They were at a standstill. Everyone else was quiet, focusing on the ex-chief and the current chief. The tension was thick.
“Damn right I am.” Ralph hated how Jack’s voice was filled with pure joy.
“So if I’m chief and my group are hunters, what does that make you?” His brown eyes focused on the knife, the weapon that would take his life.
Ralph didn’t have to think hard about the answer. It was pretty obvious, so much so that the savages erupted into a yelling mess again.
“PIG!” “PREY!” “PIG!” “PREY!”
The boy was trembling. If he could just take Jack’s knife. Eyes wide, darting from side to side as he searched for an escape route, his knuckles turned white from how hard he was grasping at the sand.
“Myself,” his voice was so quiet that it drowned in the chanting. Ralph gathered all his courage and looked back at those crazed blue eyes.
“Myself,” he repeated with more confidence and continued, “I am not chief nor hunter. But I am still human. I am still Ralph!”
He was desperate. He didn’t know how to talk to these savages. They still had to remember him as their friend back at the beginning.
Jack simply laughed. His knife was now closer after the other had finished his speech. Seeing the chief’s reaction, the others had started to boo. Ralph started to panic again. "No. It makes you a threat!"
“You went against me and hurt my hunters!”
"What do you have to say to that?"
“I'm sorry?” he tilted his head as he answered, hoping it satisfied Jack.
“Oh you will be” Jack’s grin still present.
The words were dripping with honey and laced with an underlying threat. All of the hunters were anticipating Jack’s next move.
“You want to be chief. That is what you were yelling about back at Castle Rock."
" You think you are better than us don't you!"
The hunters yell in union, "BOOHOO! KILL HIM"
Jack’s eyes stared intensely at Ralph’s face, looking for a sign of weakness he could exploit. Ralph knew his games and refused to participate, no matter how much Jack lied.
“I say we make sure you're never chief again.”
The savages roared and readied their spears around Ralph. Jack’s arms found his shoulders and pushed him down. The boy was startled by the sudden movement and uttered a single word: “What.”
“KILL THE PIG! CUT HIS THROAT! KILL THE PIG! SPILL ITS BLOOD!”
The biguns slammed their spears down from either side. The wooden shafts crossed over his arms in a tight X, locking his shoulders to the earth. More spears followed, pinning his legs the same way.
Ralph was completely trapped beneath a crisscross of wood and stone.
He tried to see what was happening, but the sun was blinding him. He recognized that the black silhouette in front of him was Jack.
“Guys please, we aren’t animals! Do not take another innocent life. We already lost three of us!”
“I will never try to be chief! I don’t even want to be chief! I won’t mention the fire ever again!”
But no one listened. They kept chanting their stupid song. Ralph was completely exhausted, his ribs aching; he never had the chance to let them properly heal.
The hunters tapped their spears against the sand in rhythm, creating a beat. The boys with the torches, held their flames close to the blonde. Some of the savages began poking him again. One of the boys torturously scratched at his old injuries.
“KILL THE PIG! KILL THE PIG!”
Ralph thought of Simon and how cruelly he had died. The thud of spears was too loud in his ears. He felt his throat closing up and tears started to pour down his face.
“Oh God. Oh God,” he cried out.
He could feel his heartbeat as if it were about to burst his ribs. His panic drowned everything out. Ralph couldn’t think; he relied only on his human instincts.
Meanwhile Jack stood before Ralph. His sweaty palm gripped his knife as he looked at the boy.
Ralph was trembling and his words came out choked, barely louder than a whisper. He thrashed around like a wild boar, trying to get out of the makeshift prison. His crew thought so too, and some of them mimed the actions of the boy.
To see this new side of Ralph excited Jack. He never thought he would see Ralph this panicked.
The blond had been calm since they had landed on this island; it made him furious. No matter what situation they were in, Ralph was always clear-headed and ready to act-unlike his fat friend.
Jack relished the sight, but knew he couldn’t for long.
He was in the center of the circle of hunters, all of them waiting for him to take Ralph’s life. The tension in the air was getting to him, or maybe he had just realized how crazy this situation was.
He was unsure how to go about this. Part of the chanting was to cut the throat, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to look at Ralph’s face while he killed him.
He raised his arm in the air. The stomping and chanting grew louder, overtaking Jack’s own heartbeat.
“KILL THE PIG!”
“CUT HIS THROAT!”
“KILL THE PIG!”
“KILL THE PIG!”
Jack held his arm in the air, hesitating to stab Ralph.
It seemed like time itself had stopped. His heart beat so fast he could hear it. The loud hypnotizing chanting had now faded, sounding like a low buzzing in the background.
For him there were only two things in the foreground: his knife and Ralph.
His eyes darted around the boy’s body. Ralph was still muttering incoherent words; only now he was exhausted and had stopped moving. But before any blood was spilled, a single raindrop hit Jack’s nose. This stopped him.
He blinked, confused, swiping it away with the back of his hand. The sky above was now thick with gray clouds, blotting out the sun. Another drop landed, this time on Ralph’s stomach. Then another. Slowly, the rain began to fall.
The undergrowth whispered as the leaves rubbed together, a rustling sound that seemed to echo through the clearing. Water splashed against the sand, forming small puddles that began to turn the dirt into sticky mud. The steady beat of spears faltered, each strike now met with a squelch as the ground gave way beneath their feet. Some of the littluns slipped, flailing, falling into the wet earth with small cries.
The rain struck the torches, producing hissing and sputtering. Flames shivered and then died, smoke rising in thin, curling plumes that turned immediately to steam in the damp air. The forest seemed alive with sound.
Jack’s carefully applied war paint began to run. Red and black streaked down his neck, smearing into streaks of gray and pink. His mask of savagery seemed to melt with the water.
All around him, the boys froze, their thrill gone, their ritual broken by the sudden intrusion of nature. They shifted awkwardly, unsure what to do, their eyes searching for orders from their chief.
Jack clenched the knife in both hands, his knuckles white. Rain dripped into his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision. He raised the blade again, trying to maintain control.
Ralph laid in the mud, gasping, his soaked hair plastered to his face. The rain ran down his neck and back mixing with sweat and tears, washing away the dust of the island and the blood of past wounds. He clawed at the sand, slipping in the mud, the wooden prison of spears pressing tighter as the children adjusted their grips.
The drumming of droplets on leaves, the splashing in puddles, the hissing of extinguished torches, the wet scraping of hands on mud. The sounds drown out the chanting.
The rain could only distract the boys for so long. Jack pressed the knife forward, unflinching.
Ralph felt the sharp point penetrate just under his right knee. Pain shot through him, but his body moved on instinct, clawing and thrashing, mud and water flying in all directions. The other children, startled by the sudden motion, tightened their grips on the spears. The wooden prison closed in again, wet and slippery, trapping him even as the rain poured down.
Jacks knife was buried deep in Ralph's leg, blood pooling around the wound, soaking the sand. The boys leg quivered uselessly beneath him. Now that the chief had attacked, the others felt compelled to follow.
Roger was the first to partake. He lifted his double sided spear and dove it down, right beside Jacks cut. The impact send shivers up Ralph's body, the vibration of the spear against the bone rattling trough his leg.
A ragged scream of pain cut through the crowd like a blade. Ralph was clawing wildly at the spears with desperate hands. He let out one choked out gasp before he passed out. Black swallowing all colour, leaving him in endless darkness.
At first there was only dark, but slowly the muffled sound around him pulled him out of it.
"AISE TO E CHE!"
"O COWDS AT CHE!"
"AISE TO E CHE!"
"OOLS A AGAIN E CHE!"
His body felt heavy. Even breathing took effort. A steady throbbing pain pulsed beneath his right knee. He surfaced with a jolt. Ralph tried to hold his leg as comfort but found his arms tied.
His eyelids fluttered,but the light was too bright forcing them to shut again. His awareness slowly crept back up. His thoughts came slowly, slipping through his grasp like water.
This time he opens his eyes slowly. There was a scorching fire right in front. He felt the warmth of the flame, it only resurfacing bad memories.
Ralph quickly looked down. There he noticed that he was sitting on red stone, which he recognized it belonging to Castle Rock. The rain had also stopped. The once so muffled noises, were now clear to hear and coming from different directions.
"PRAISE TO THE CHIEF!"
"NO COWARDS AS CHIEF!"
"PRAISE TO THE CHIEF!"
"FOOLS ARE AGAINST THE CHIEF!"
This was bad. He was with Jacks tribe.
But why?
Ralph was sure Jack hated him and wanted him dead. So why was Ralph still alive- unless they were planning something else? What could that be-
He slowly lifted his head, his eyes adjusting to the light. Ralph tried to take as much as information as he could.
They were having one of their rituals; The hunters were swaying with their spears. Some were moving aimlessly and others were slamming their sticks against the rocks in unison. The cooks were roasting pieces of meat with their spits. Littluns and a couple of bigger boys were sitting . They were all positioned close to the fire, creating a big circle.
But what caught Ralph's eye was the one boy who stood across from him, on the other side of the fire. His masked face is lit unevenly by the flame, only his bright blue eyes stay clear.
Jacks eyes caught his.
Jack stood tall amongst the other boys, his fiery hair gleaming in the warm glow of the flames. A top of his hair stood his square black cap with a golden badge in it and most importantly his flower crown, which only he possessed. In his right hand he was holding his spear, the knife lashed to its end. Ralph scowled seeing the weapon.
As before there was dried up blood on it, only this time it was his blood.
"The offering is awake!", Jack shouted and lifted his spear in declaration.
The savages all stopped their own task and turned to look at Ralph. All eyes were on him and it made his skin prickle. The word use from Jack made him uneasy. Couldn't this all just be over with? A mix of fear and tiredness knotted in his chest.
The smell of burned meat hung in the air. The cooks moved among them, handing out portions one by one, the dance of the hunters stopped. Soon everyone settled around the fire, its glow flickering. Teeth clamped down on the muscles and fat, tearing and crunching with urgent greed.
Only Jack didn't take a piece of meat, rather he prepared himself for a speech.
"As you all are aware, the Beast requires meat! For today we have Piggy, and that will be a fill that last us ages."
"Once it is hungry again we shall give him Ralph!"
Silenced followed. They had agreed to offer the fair haired boy to the monster, but now seeing him awake, awoke a feel of shame among the boys.
"We are save from the beast for today!", proclaimed Jack.
At the mention of their safety the children lost all moral guilt, rather they cheered and celebrated the great leadership of the chief.
"PRAISE TO THE CHIEF!"
"PRAISE TO THE CHIEF!"
Ralph paid no mind to the savages, his eyes were glued to the twins.
They both sat close together with tense shoulders. He noticed how they kept twitching uncomfortably and held their head down low, which only made them more noticeable amongst the cheerful hunters. One of the twins whispered something to the other.
Before Ralph could ask why they had betrayed him, a hand yanked sharply at his hair. Pain shot through his scalp, snapping him back to reality.
He winced and only then noticed that several members of the tribe had gathered around him.
“Take him out of sight!” one of them shouted. “We don’t want a wet blanket around while we feast, eh?”
Rough hands grabbed him. Before he could struggle, they hauled him to his feet and dragged him away from the fire. The light faded quickly behind them.
They shoved him forward into a narrow opening in the rock.
Inside the air was damp and heavy, thick with the smell of salt and earth. The flickering firelight barely reached past the entrance, leaving most of the cave swallowed in darkness. Water dripped steadily from the jagged ceiling.
The cold stone ground was uneven beneath him as they forced him down. From deeper within came a distant sound wind or perhaps the sea forcing its way through hidden cracks. For a moment, it almost sounded like breathing.
The boys dropped him carelessly and stepped back. Then they were gone.
Ralph was left alone in the dark.
He sat in the darkness for what felt like hours.
Time had lost all meaning. There was no sun, no movement only the steady drip of water and the distant roar of the sea. His arms ached against the ropes, his body stiff from the cold stone beneath him.
Then-
"Hi"