Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!
Those words never left my mind. The island changed everything… destroyed my innocence, my thoughts, my mindset…. Ralph told the officials of what we did on the island and now, all of the "savages" were put into a mental hospital. And here I was, sitting here in my room in London.
We were being taught etiquette, mannerisms, rules of society, and some things of the world, but none of that matters. I couldn't even focus on that when I had the constant thought of Ralph in my head. This happened to show in one of our classes…
"Why do you care Jack?! We got home, you should be fine now!" Roger yelled.
"It's not fine! Ralph got us in this situation because he was too much of a sissy to join us!" I yelled back.
"Children quiet!" our instructor snapped.
"Shut up before I hunt you, you old git!"
The instructor became silent as he realized my audacity. He mumbled something before going back to teaching, as if nothing happened.
And now, I'm here confined. All because of Ralph. The one who didn't hunt, the one who wasn't chief because I WAS THE CHIEF. I had my tribe, and he took it away from me. I had the power and he stripped me of it. He must pay. *Ding dong ding dong ding dong* Big Ben chimed three times.
Where is the beast? Was it my imagination? I kept hearing this chant constantly. Who's the beast? Am I the one to kill it? Who will hunt it? Obvious not Ralph nor any of these people here…. I thought I killed it on the island, but it later turned out to be Simon, the fool. My head hurts, I feel like screaming. Everything around is spinning, I'm becoming hot and-
"My my, my dear child." I stood still and looked around. Nothing. "Who's there?" I called out.
"You know who's there Jack." Flies started to swarm the room and appear into a dark ominous figure. "You cannot escape me, none of them can," he whispered softly.
"Who are you?!" I yelled. My eyes filled with terror, my heart beating within its cage. "Aren't you the beast?" I screamed.
"The beast?" the figure asked, "no no no… I am not the beast. They are the beasts."
"Beasts? There's more?"
"The ones who confined you here, the ones who imprison you here, the one who took your power away… they are the beasts my child."
Suddenly, everything froze. It all makes sense now. "Kill the beasts, cut his throat, spill his blood," I chanted slowly.
"Yes… kill them all Jack. They are beasts, hunt them down," the figure continued to say, "in this world there are the ones who are hunted… and the ones who hunt. Are you the hunter or the hunted?"
The dead pig's head comes back in vision. The mangled disfigured body of the beast in my head. I am the hunter.
The door opened up. "Jack?" a nurse called, "your lunch is ready." No reply. She walked into the room and saw me, a wicked grin across my face. "Jack?"
"Ki… te… beat," I mumbled.
"What?"
"Cu… is… roat."
"Are you okay? We'll be taking you to the doctor soon so just finish your lu-"
"SPILL HIS BLOOD," I roared, as I lunged toward her and pinned her down.
The food spilled on the ground, but no matter, I will eat what I hunt, not some handouts that weaklings give out.
"Jack what are you doing?!" the nurse cried out.
"I am doing what He tells me."
"What?!"
I grab the knife lying on the platter. "To hunt them down." I held the knife in my hand. "To hunt all the beasts." The door closed, muffling the screams coming from the room.
"Cut to the intestines and cut to the throat. Inflicted by knife," an investigator said.
"Who's the suspect?" the interviewer asked.
"A boy named Jack," said the manager, "he has mental problems. He was trapped on an island alone with no one, his head isn't right."
"Have you caught him?"
"No, he escaped out the window. I'm surprised though, the gate blocking the window was completely destroyed."
The boys were all huddled in a group. "Jack… killed someone…," a little' un said.
"Hopefully he'll be caught," said Roger, "killing people isn't right."
He looked off in the distance. I was there in the woods, waving my hand. His eyes opened up, he was about to yell when he saw me put my finger to my mouth. I mouthed something, then ran off.
"Kill the beasts," Roger whispered. And that was all to that.
Now, I am well known in London under an alias that people have given me. Jack the Ripper. A very fitting name, although I would like the name "Jack the Chief" or "Jack the Hunter", but no matter. It still works. I sit down on a chair, twirling my bloody knife in my fingers.. Hunt or be hunted, that is how our world is. Only the strongest survive, the weak die off. There are prey, and then there are the predators. I walk slowly to the woman trapped in the corner.
"RALPH!" she screamed. How sad, she can't even hunt. Held back by a peace loving prat. "RALP-"
*slice*
Blood spilled on the floor. Her head falling back, severed from the neck.
"Lucy?" Ralph called. Then he saw me, hands and knife dripping his wife's blood. His eyes filled with terror, he runs. I chased him, after doing this for several years, I'm quite used to actions of cowardly people who avoid their fate as prey. I cornered him quite quickly and walked slowly toward him.
"Jack you don't need to do this," Ralph pleaded, "didn't the hospital change anything?!"
I laughed mirthfully. "That's quite funny, why would they change how I am? You were the one who embarrassed me, who took away everything I had. You, the non hunter, the fraudulent chief. You will pay for what you have done."
"That was years ago! Why are you still mad?!"
"I'm not mad," I whispered.
"Huh?" he gasped.
"I'm just hunting the beast I've been looking for." Ralph's mouth opened just as I sliced open his neck and stabbed his stomach many times.
Kill the beast, cut his throat, spill his blood. That was all. I walked out the house. And vanished. Jack the Ripper, never found, never known. Hunt or be Hunted. This is the natural way.
