AN: This story takes place after Ralph has fallen in the sand while being hunted, but the officer has not arrived to save him.
Lord of the Flies and its characters are not mine, they are William Goldberg's.
Heart of Darkness
"Wait!"
Ralph crawled backwards across the sands, into the water, waves lapping at his fingers and brushing past his legs to stop before the feet of his hunters. They stood in a menacing semi-circle around him, an opening in the center for their chief who was sprinting their way. Sam and Eric were among them, looking everywhere but in his eyes. Roger and Maurice stood beside Jack, two guardians protecting the gates, glowering ominously. The sharpened tips of their spears pointed towards him, ready for the signal to kill.
Distressed bird and animal calls sprouted to our ears from the forest. Clouds of feathers flew up into the cloudless afternoon sky and toward the horizon, fleeing the flames licking at their heels and circling around the large black wall of smock obscuring the other side of the island. The flames consumed all left in its path – flora and fauna alike. It slowly inched its way towards the beach, a predator stealing up on its prey before the assault. The heat from the fire and the exertion from the chase caused little beads of sweat to drip down the savages' bodies causing streaks in their gruesome war paint.
Jack snarled, baring white teeth like the animal he has become, at Ralph. He stood tall, empowered by his pack positioned around him, waiting for his orders. Little trace of humanity shown on his face, savagery flaunted through his mask, through his wild eyes and matted hair, the very way he stood before Ralph.
Empowered by their leader, jeers and jabs came from the semi-circle, inflicting wounds wherever they touched Ralph's body. The tiny rivulets of blood ran down his body and into the gentle waves below, staining the water around him light pink.
"Are you barmy? You're too dangerous to be left alone. We're going to make you bleed like a stuck pig." Jack said mockingly, a glint in his eye that Ralph did not like.
"Are you going to roast me over a fire and eat me like one too? It must not be such a big step from being the savages you are now! How can you stand there over me, about to kill another human being and live with yourselves! What do you think your parents would say?!"
That brought silence and respite from the jabbing spear points as the younger boys mulled over that last question. The older boys just stared at Jack, waiting for his reaction.
"What does it matter what our parents would think? They aren't here; they aren't even looking for us! We are here on this island, we are alone. No one is searching for us. No one cares. We have to take care of ourselves and the first step is to get rid of boys like you who want to hamper us!" Jack spit out venomously in reply. He was riled up now. He jerked his spear up and out of the golden sand where it had rested and smashed the shell by his feet. Then he lowered the point toward Ralph and aimed between his eyes.
Ralph scampered backwards, deeper into the warm, pink water that was slowly accepting his lifeblood into itself to become part of something greater. Water splashed around him as he got up and tried to run away from the horde of savages and spears. He ducked under the spear of a shocked littlun and ran for his life.
"Don't let him get away! After him!" Came the cry from behind. Then the sounds of dozens of feet pounding across the sands towards him reached his ears, closer and closer as the gained ground on the tired, injured boy.
Ralph pushed his exhausted body further towards the other end of the beach. He knew that they would reach him eventually – that there was no chance he could run away and hide with the fire blazing across the island – but he had to try, for Simon and Piggy. He couldn't just give in to those savages; let them release him from this hell in a gauntlet of spears awaiting him. Simon and Piggy had been sacrificed for the beasts; he wouldn't let himself surrender easily. Like a fox in the hunt, he ran for his life.
Harsh breaths tore his throat as he pounded across the beach, once a haven for the boys, now a trap. His gait began to falter, slowing him down and his hunters caught up. Spears thrown but not hitting their mark stuck out of the sand at diagonals. One whizzed by his ear to land in the sand in front of him.
He was near the scar, where he had first met Piggy and found the Conch. The spears were flying closer and closer as he slowed, the savages running closer and closer. They chanted now.
"Kill the Beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"
Jack, the closest, nearly foamed at the mouth as Ralph stumbled and sprinted closer. Ralph turned around to defend himself. He got to his feet, preparing to fight. The others were behind, retrieving their spears. He could defeat Jack – maybe, but could he stand against the others if, no, when they ganged up on him. He noticed that Samneric were the farthest behind, far beyond the excited littluns racing to get their weapons and join the fun.
Jack jabbed his spear forward while his oxygen-deprived brain struggled to think clearly. The wounds he gained early bled profusely now, upset by the strenuous dash he had made. Red raindrops splattered against the warm golden sand and started to form puddles. Blood welled up from the small, fresh gash he received from the spear.
"Bloody hell!" He tried to stifle the curse, but if there was any time someone was given permission to cuss, attempted murder was it.
"That was nothing. I'm going to stick you like a pig and use your blood for paint. The sand and water will run red with your blood!" Jack's face split into a feral grin, white eyes and teeth shining brightly from his mask of carmine and coal. He thrust his spear again at Ralph, who dodged, just barely missing the point. His tired body protested his movements, tired limbs moving slowly from exhaustion and loss of blood.
They danced their deadly dance. Bright sunlight rained down upon them, hitting their faces and backs, casting shadows across the pale yellow sand, dotted here and there with colorful, exotic shells. Birds that had not fled far from the danger of the fire hopped around on the beach, flying off into the endless blue sky when one of the fighters drew too close for their comfort. Beyond them the flames reached for the sky, red, orange, and yellow dancing wickedly in the air, consuming all around it, spreading farther across the island with every passing moment. A trail of black smoke stretched far into the sky, signaling their need for rescue from this inferno.
Ralph's body, wearing down throughout the battle, slowed further. The group had finally caught up, but was not attacking him, allowing Jack to defeat his arch-nemesis alone. Jack, sensing the end was near, grew arrogant and began to show off for his pride. One thrust that would have ended the fight had Jack truly meant for it to do so gave Ralph the chance to fight back. He grabbed the spear and jerked back with all his strength. In his surprise, Jack let go. Quickly, before Jack and the others had a moment to think he lunged forward.
There was a disturbing crack, then silence from the group, their cheer dying from their lips as they stared at their fallen leader. Red lifeblood flowed from the entry point of the spear, located right where the heart is. Ralph pulled the spear out in horror. Blood gushed out from its source covering the boy's chest in a flow of liquid rubies. It covered his lower abdomen and legs to stain the sand below it in flood crimson.
Ralph stared with dread into Jack's eyes. The light blue eyes, once so full of anger and power, once so alive; faded, light flowing from them as the blood flowed from his chest. Jack's body fell to its' knees. Then lay face down in sand painted red from its' own blood with a muffled thump.
Ralph, too, fell to his knees, but in dismay not death. With shaking hand he flipped Jack's body onto its' back, eyes staring unseeingly into the sky.
The troop of savages cheers for their new leader.
Sam and Eric stare at him in horror.
Ralph brings his blood covered hands to his face, smearing the disgustingly slick liquid on his face. After all the trauma – losing the mulberry birthmark boy, Simon, Piggy, his hunt through the forest, and killing Jack – he weeps.
AN: This is meant to be a one-shot, but if there is enough positive feedback it could be continued. Thank you for reading!