Warnings for the whole fic: Starvation, violence, Stockholm syndrome


Warnings for the chapter: Violence (light)


His legs hurt, his lungs burned, his eyes watered, and his heart pounded against his chest. But he had to keep running. He had to escape. Was there escape? Where cold he go where they would not find him? Likely he would be found anywhere, Jack has bragged plenty about how he and his hunters have been around all the island. There was nowhere he would be safe.

He emerged from the smokey forest, dashing along the sand. He heard the shouts and chants echoing from the woods, and he tried going faster. But sand worked against him and he fell, but he wouldn't stop. He crawled, as fast as he, could, until he just stopped. He was tired, and there was nowhere he could go. Tears were in his eyes, and he was alone. No one would save him. Not Simon, not Piggy.

The chanting and screaming, it just got closer and closer. He hated how weak and alone he was. He hates the dirty tricks, the savagery. He wished jack would have just listened.

But he didn't. And because he chose to leave, to have his own tribe, Ralph was about to die. He was about to be killed at the hands of those he once considered friends. The boys closed in on him, but they didn't kill him. They prodded at him, and hit him, but they weren't killing him. It made Ralph want to sob, he just wanted it to be over.

It stopped shortly after it started, but the loss of the beatings didn't comfort Ralph much at all. He knew there was a reason, that it wasn't out of the kindness of their hearts. And he was right. Because the circle of boys broke apart, and Jack stood before him.

Jack looked awful. He looked savage. He was painted and held in his hand the spear sharpened at both ends. Ralph was sore, and even bleeding some. He looked up at Jack, breathing heavy and ragged from the run and from the pain as well. Jacks expression was rather blank, but there was a cruelty in his eyes. Ralph hadn't always seen it there. Had it always been there?

Jack stared down at him, and while Ralph was waiting for a blow from the spear held in his hands, he instead got a solid blow to the chest, sending him backwards. The sand digging into shallow cuts from the boys prodding at him was a horrible feeling, but he wouldn't consider it the worst. After all, he is expecting death from this.

Instead, he heard Jacks voice, angry and loud, "Tie him up! Take him to Castle Rock!" and Ralph felt his heart drop. Couldn't he just kill him now? Why did this have to wait until castle rock? He felt so many hands on his body. Shoving him around, tying his ankles and wrists, before he was lifted via stick. Like a pig.

The entire time they carried him to castle rock, they chanted, and cheered. Samneric's cheers lacked enthusiasm, however. They were unhappy watching their friend be hurt, be killed. But they had to come, they had to participate or they would get hurt. It was awful.

Once at castle rock, Ralph was cut free, but immediately tied once more, shoved into a cave. Two boys with spears stayed behind, while the rest danced around a fire, recreating the 'hunt'. It was sick. Ralph felt sick. He refrained from expressing it however, just sitting against the farthest wall in the cave (which wasn't very far, the fave was at most 6 feet long deep) and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his face on his knees. He feels tears burning the corners of his eyes, and he can't help but begin to sob.

Why won't they just kill him? That's what Jack want's right? Why must it take so long. He feels like his stomach is turning into a knot, and he hates it. He closes his eyes, and tries to force himself to sleep.

And for a while, he at least gets that. He gets to sleep. He doesn't dream, but he is thankful for that. Had he dreamt Jack would have been there, his hunters. Simon would have been there, and so would piggy. He wasn't ready to face the twisted dreams this islands experiences produce.

But like all good things, it comes to an end. It ends quickly. He wakes up when the feels arms grabbing him, yanking him to his feet and practically dragging him out of the cave. He is dazed from his sleep, and doesn't have his feet under him when they let him go, and he collapses to the ground. He takes a second to gather himself, before there's a new pair of hands, grabbing his shirt and pulling him up to his knees.

His eyes narrow when he sees the person in front of him, the person crouched before him who's hand is gripping the fabric of Ralphs shirt. Jack. They were watched by Jacks entire tribe, who had grown silent. It was unnerving. Ralph didn't look at them, though. He looked at Jack.

Jacks eyes were dark, and focused on Ralphs, and there's a moment longer of just silence before Jack speaks, his voice loud, so that his entire tribe can hear, "You've been nothing but a nuisance since I left your tribe, Ralph," He stands, pushing as he lets go of Ralphs shirt, and while Ralph doesn't have his hands free to catch himself, he managed to keep his back from hitting the ground by catching himself on his elbows.

"You would be better off dead, wouldn't you?" his hunters cheered at the notion, because they agreed. Whether their agreement stemmed from manipulation, alliance, or fear was irrelevant. Ralph looks around at Jacks tribe, at his old companions, before snapping his attention back to Jack as he continues speaking, "You would be less of an irritation with your head on a stick, left as an offering to the Beast." Ralph cringes, and shies back as Jack kneels next to him. Jack leans in close, that smug grin on his face, that grin he gets when things are working his way, "But the same effect would come of you joining my tribe."

The boys went quiet again, watching Jack. Its not so much they were surprised by the suggestion as they were unexpecting. Jack seemed pretty content with the idea of killing Ralph, but it seems he is still more attached to the idea of finally winning dominance over Ralph, finally getting Ralph to submit to him.

Ralphs eyes widen a little at the offer, before narrowing in a glare, "Why would I join your tribe? After all you've done, why would I ever join you?! You're more than just a beast or swine or a thief. You're a fool as well." There was a fuss amongst the hunters, and that grin fell from Jacks face. He looked angry.

After all he's done, after hes proved himself time and time again, Ralph still refuses to yield to him. He takes a deep breath, standing straight again, looking at the two who had been posted at the opening of Ralphs cave- perhaps better put as Ralphs cell, "Put him back. Make sure he gets nothing to eat or drink."

Ralph is angry, and hurt, and he doesn't wipe the glare off of his face as hes lifted again, and hauled off. He sits against the same wall, and ignores the boys mocking and taunting him. He doesn't even bother trying to recognize them. He just fumes in his own corner, glaring at the ground. Why can Jack just kill him? What is the point in this power game he plays?

Whatever the point is, it is left unknown, because he closes his eyes, and wills himself back into sleep. He dreams this time. And as he had feared, his dreams are haunted by the faces of his dead friends, by the hunters, and above all else, by Jack.