Chapter One - So Lonely Inside

-

What was he doing here?

This was the last place he should be - walking in the middle of the jungle. He didn't know if he was near Castle Rock or if he was near the old shelters. He'd been walking so long he could have been going in circles and wouldn't have even noticed. All he knew was that it was dark, and he probably shouldn't have been there.

The creepers ripped at his ankles. He felt them scratch, felt them tearing through his skin, but walked anyway. It reminded him that this was real. The entire island was real. Blood still flowed through his veins. This wasn't any nightmare, and he was fortunate enough to be alive.

Fortunate? Was he really all that fortunate?

He was alone. Piggy and Simon were dead; the two people who had been there since the very beginning. He had blown off the heavier boy half the time, not paid attention to what he said and not standing up for him when the others poked fun. He had never even cared enough to ask him his real name. And Simon. Poor Simon. He was so innocent; his hair falling in his eyes, his gentle voice that dripped with sincerity. Neither of them deserved death.

But it was exactly what they got.

Now he was left. One of the few things still surviving from the first established society on the island. How had everything happened? How had it reached the point where two boys had ended up dead, their bodies drifting at the bottom of the ocean, and he was running for his life from a pack of savages he had once called friends?

He tried to remember the beginning, but his memories were hazy. He remembered the plane, the boys. An election? Oh, he was the leader. A shell...was that the conch? Finding it in the lagoon. With Piggy. Piggy, whose body was crushed. Whose blood stained the sand surrounding Castle Rock. Exploring. Who was he exploring with? Simon. Simon and some one else. Hard as he tried, he couldn't remember who it was. His mind wouldn't let him recall the face. He saw himself smiling. Smiling at who? Who was he talking to? But all he saw was a blur. Maybe his mind couldn't remember times when he felt happy.

But times when everyone was happy had quickly disappeared.

He remembered fighting. Separating. Two tribes. One beast. The littluns. They had seen a beast. A snake-thing. The hunters. Fire. So much fire. Killing the beast. But it wasn't the beast. It was Simon. Poor, innocent Simon. Bleeding. Bleeding Red. Lots of red. Red of fire...of blood...of hair?

That's when who he had been trying to forget drifted back into his mind.

Jack. Jack Merridew. Head choir boy. He could sing C sharp. He wanted to be leader. He had red hair. He wanted to hunt. And to kill. But there was a time, before all of it. They had been friends. They had smiled at each other. Talked.

He sighed.

He felt the loneliness rip through his heart. He was alone now. So long ago it seemed were the days of swimming, playing in the sun, talking to Simon and Piggy...and to Jack. Now he was alone. Running for his life, running from the people that had been overcome with the want to kill and to block out the rules they had learned since they were young. Rules that had told them killing was wrong, that the way they were living was "savagery". But that was months ago...maybe a different lifetime.

He jumped as he heard something crack.

The boy stopped, looking around, wondering if it was his own foot crushing a twig that had created the sound, or some one else's. Something else's. Ralph had never believed in the beast, had never really listened when the littluns had complained about it. He stayed still and saw no sign of movement from what he could see between the brush. He continued walking, not wishing to return to the thoughts of moments before. But what else was there to think about? What else was there to occupy his mind?

"Hello, Ralph."

The fair haired boy jerked his head up, startled at the voice that had said his name. He stopped at who stood before him. His shoulder against the tree, his tall, slim body bathed in moonlight. His red hair hung around his head, and his face was covered with dirt and blood and paint. A smile was on his face, one that Ralph couldn't describe. But he was unsure if their was any kindness left in the boy's body for it to be a greeting.

"Jack."

He was too surprised to think of anything else to say.

The trees cast shadows on their bodies, and made it hard for Ralph to read all of Jack's expression. One eye seemed to glow, the other was covered in darkness. His spear was in his hand, but just as Ralph's body tensed Jack let it drop from his fist. It hit the ground and Jack crossed his arms. His smile widened.

"Shouldn't you be hiding?" Jack asked.

"From what?" He didn't believe in the beast.

Jack laughed. He remembered that laugh. Hearing it from beneath his body as he, Simon, and the red head explored the island on the first day and they had piled on each other in celebration. With a flick of his head Jack threw back the hair that was falling into his eyes.

"My tribe. They're ready. You should be afraid."

Ralph thought for a second. He should be afraid, shouldn't he? But something inside of him was thinking of the old Jack, the one that wouldn't hurt him.

"There's a lot more than I could be afraid of then a bunch of boys running around with sticks."

Something flashed in Jack's eyes."Not really, Ralph. What else is there on this island? Every turn you make could lead to death. You could drown. You could be killed by the beast. But my tribe means torture."

Ralph shuddered. Jack saw it and smiled again - the sign of weakness captivated him and made his eyes glow in a way that Ralph had never been comfortable with...

"What? Do you think that we would just kill you? Shove a spear through your heart, a moment of pain, and let you die? No, we would keep you. Show you how a real leader runs his tribe."

"A real leader? One that only hunts and kills? No rules, no obedience. You just run around, spilling blood and dancing and feasting."

Jack shrugged. "We want to have fun here. We're stuck on this island, Ralph. There's not much hope of getting off. When was the last time you really thought we were going to get rescued? Not for awhile. Why have rules? There's no one here to tell us what to do. Well, " Jack seemed to perk up at this, "we had you. See how that turned out. They have me now. And they're happy."

"They're insane," Ralph replied, remembering the look on some of the older boy's faces. How their eyes looked dead, how much they had changed.

"Who cares? They listen to me. I'm their chief. That's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted. And that's what I got. They jump at my every order. They'd probably walk around backwards if I told them to."

"That's all you've ever wanted? Power and control over a group of mindless children? You're pathetic, Jack."

"Hey! Don't talk to me that way!" Jack's face turned from a smile to fury faster than Ralph would have guessed. He almost jumped at the transition and regretted what he said at once, glancing at the spear that lay on the ground by Jack's feet. But the red head didn't reach for it, only tightened his fists and screamed.

"You could be dead by now, Ralph! You should be dead by now! They've wanted to find you for days, but I didn't tell them to, so they've stayed in Castle Rock. They do what I tell them! And if I went back and told them it was time, they'd have no problem killing you now!"

"Why haven't you?" Ralph asked, feeling his fear quickly depart from him.

The taller frowned. "Why haven't I what?"

Ralph laughed. "Attacked. Tried to find me. You know there's no one else on this island beside's me. Why wait? Why not come and kidnap me? It's your entire tribe against me. I can't be hard to find." He loved the power this was giving him - an adrenaline rush he used to feel when the littluns had relied on him before the separation. "Hey, you found me. And I didn't even notice until you said something. I could be dead right now. You could've killed me."

Jack looked down, startled, and felt his hair fall back over his eyes. He had slipped and Ralph had caught him, and he mentally cursed himself. When he didn't answer, Ralph only smiled wider.

"You have your spear right there, Jack. Just pick it up and run me through with it. You're taller. You're stronger. I'm weak, I haven't eaten in days. I couldn't put up much of a fight. Why don't you kill me?"

Jack bent down, picking up his spear. He twirled it in his fingers, thinking for a few seconds. Then he looked up and smiled.

"It's like I told you, Ralph. I get what I want." And with that, Jack Merridew turned and disappeared back into the darkness.

-

-

A.N.: Hey! Wow, I can't believe this is finally posted. I've been writing it for over a year and, I promise, my writing has gotten a lot better since I wrote this first chapter, but I'm not going back and changing it now. This is not a one shot; there will definitely be more chapters. I really hope you enjoyed it. The Lord of the Flies section on FF needs to make a comeback!

Please read and review! Love and hugs if you do!