Author's Note: So, yeah, if the summary wasn't enough, this is going to be the book from the perspectives of Roger and Maurice. Probably some slash.

Disclaimer: Oh, if only I owned Lord of the Flies, it would be...interesting. But I don't.

Chapter One: Playing Soldiers

Roger's mind was not a happy place.

Nobody had ever doubted that the inside of his head perfectly matched the glare that was usually on his face. Even Maurice knew that interrupting Roger thinking wasn't a very good idea. Although they were friends, Roger was a bit...odd. Not in the way Simon was odd, but a different sort of odd. A darker sort of odd.

The odd boy in question was staring moodily out the window, appearing to be lost in thought. Maurice had to wonder what sort of twisted things Roger thought about. "Hey, Rog, what're you thinking about?"

Maurice was the type of person who immediately forgot about the parameters of your friendship once he was curious. He was tall and strong, but had the misfortune of being soft-hearted and overly affectionate, at least in Roger's eyes. "Nothing."

"Ok!"

Roger sighed and began studying the dark blue seats of the aircraft. They weren't terribly comfortable, if their families were so rich, couldn't they at least afford comfortable seats? He dug his nails into the fabric, undoubtedly making small holes in it.

"What're you doing to the seat?" Maurice cocked his head to the side like a confused bird.

"Bored."

That was all the explanation he needed to give. Having hung around Roger as a 'friend' since they were about eight, Maurice knew Roger's habits of taking out feelings of boredom on inanimate objects. Maurice scooted closer to Roger, just to annoy him. It was a game they'd played since they were younger, Maurice would scoot closer to Roger, Roger would scoot away. Because Maurice just loved getting into other people's personal space.

Just then, the plane lurched, sending Maurice from a comfortable distance away from Roger to right against him. Roger made a noise like 'unf!' and the lurching still wasn't stopping.

Roger could see the top of Jack's head in the seat in front of him and he yelled something like "Stay calm, choir!" but it failed miserably. Robert was almost in tears and Simon was frantically looking around, beads of sweat forming on his pale forehead. All the chaos and noise were making Roger's head swim, and Maurice being an uncomfortably close distance really wasn't helping.

He gritted his teeth and shoved Maurice back into the seat next to him. "Roger, what's going on?" The larger boy had genuine terror in his eyes as he heard a loud thud.

"I think we're crashing," he said flatly. It was odd how Roger could say something like that so nonchalantly. Maurice's eyes widened and he grabbed onto Roger's wrist. "Keep your hands off me."

Maurice didn't listen, though, and there was another loud thud. He whimpered like a dog who'd just heard thunder and Roger could only roll his eyes.

Suddenly the lurching stopped. Everyone was still yelling and moving around, when finally Jack's voice rose above the others'. "Choir! Listen up!"

All eyes turned to the redheaded leader. "We've crashed and we've got to get out before we drown." Jack had the same quality as Roger, where he was able to say terrible things without even sounding worried. Maurice quickly got up, and Roger followed suite. Simon, surprisingly, hadn't passed out yet, and was walking painfully slowly down the aisle. The plane appear to creak under their weight and aquatic noises were coming from around them.

"Hurry up! Are you daft or what?" barked Roger.

Simon looked at him with terrified green eyes and quickened his pace, if only to get away from Roger. When they were all out of the plane, Roger truly felt sick when he realized that they would have to swim into shore. He hated swimming with a passion.

Maurice was dog-paddling through the water, happy to swim. He had a stupid grin on his face, as though he was at a beach party or the like.

After what seemed like an eternity of swimming into shore, their cloaks soaked from the water and the only article of clothing not completely ravaged being their triangular hats, they finally had a chance to look at where they were.

To Maurice, it looked like paradise. There were palm trees and a rainforest and a beach-just like in all the books he'd liked to read when he was younger! Perhaps there were jaguars in the forest! The terror of the crash immediately subsided, this was no terror, this was adventure!

Roger, on the other hand, didn't feel strongly about it either way. All he knew was that sand was getting into his shoes, and that feeling was extremely irritating. "Just look at all of it, Roger!" cried Maurice, waving a hand in front of his friend's face. Roger sniffed and folded his arms.

"All of you shut up!" yelled Jack. "We're going to take attendance, just like in school, because if any of you died, I think I ought to know. Then we're going to look around for survivors. Alright?"

Everyone chorused, "Yes, sir!" Even though Jack was no teacher, he was head boy and wielded quite a bit of power over the lot of them.

As Jack went through a list of names that he'd somehow managed to memorize, Roger took a moment to assess the area around him. There were a lot of trees, and there appeared to be a mountain near the middle of the island. He'd never been one for travel booklets, but he figured they were somewhere in the South Pacific.

"Alright, choir, now we search for survivors," their ginger-haired leader said matter-of-fact-ly. The choir followed as he began to stalk down the beach, a mass of boys in long black cloaks and triangular hats.

"Should we sing?" asked Maurice.

"Why would we do that?" Roger grunted. "Do you think we're at a choir concert? No. We're on an island."

"But I like singing."

"Great."

"And we're a choir. If there are survivors, they ought to know that we're a choir."

"The uniforms will probably make it obvious." Maurice had an annoying habit of never giving up in arguments. No matter how hard Roger tried, he could never get Maurice to give up on his stupid arguments.

Maurice began to hum, and Roger groaned. Jack didn't seem to notice, and Simon joined in. They walked like that for several more minutes when a noise was heard.

It sounded a bit like a trumpet. "Survivors!" Jack said excitedly. The group of boys nearly tripped over each other racing towards the noise, but Jack's glare sent them into an orderly formation. Maurice started humming again, and Roger quickly silenced him.

Before their eyes were a tall, blonde boy who looked like the type who'd excel in football but not in classes, and a short, stout bag of fat with spectacles. The choir looked around, confused. "Who's the man with the trumpet?"

The blonde boy cleared his throat and stood a bit taller. "There's no man with the trumpet. There's only me."

Hope you enjoyed ^_^ I'll try and update soon.