The cool night wind whipped up his bright red hair, cooling his painted face and chest. He sucked in a lungful of the salty air, exhaling slowly as he tried to clear his mind. He couldn't though, not now. He had become this person, whether he liked it or not.
"Chief." He heard a dark voice speak behind him. "It's time."
He nodded. "I shall be there in a minute, make sure he's ready" he replied, sending the second-in-command away with a flick of his hand.
But he knew. He knew he wouldn't be killing such innoscence in a minute. Or half an hour. Not even on hour. He had it all planned out in his head. The escape. Their escape.
Pulling the pig-skin hooded cloak over his head, he sighed and made his way down the track.
"Why can't I let him go?" he thought sadly.
…
The fire lit up his terror-stricken eyes, the colours dancing on his scarred body. The pain was extraordinary, but nothing compared to the fear in his heart; as Roger made his way back into the cave, grinning madly.
"Are you excited, pig?" Roger asked the blonde boy, still smiling. The group laughed manically.
"Well? Are you!?" he asked with more aggression, kicking sand into the boy's face.
All Ralph could do was nod; not letting another tear fall, knowing full well that it would just excite the frenzied group even more.
The prisoner tried shutting his eyes. Shutting himself from the capture. The torture. The pain. The savagery.
He imagined a place that he so longed to be. It was the first time him and Jack had explored the island. With Simon away with the fairies (literally), the pair had come across a beautiful place. Away from the noisy beach, the humid jungle and the busy pool; it was their oasis, with a secret entrance under a rock and the undergrowth around it being to think to get through.
The butterflies, the flowers, the tiny waterfall that ended up in a crystal-clear pool, it was like some sort of haven. The boys couldn't help but strip off and dive straight into the luxury. Its refreshing waters, surrounded by such natural beauty. They never had told anyone else. Even Jack didn't to Roger. A thought popped up for Ralph.
"Why had Jack become this…beast!?"
…
As he made his way down the beaten track, Jack cast his thoughts over the last few hours. He had to do capture him. Didn't he? There as no rescue. No hope. Only a useless used-to-be chief. He remembered the torture. The pain.
The look in Ralph's eyes was almost unbearable to look at; as he watched Roger whip him dozens of times. He could only watch on, keeping his face emotionless yet still looking like leader to his tribe. He couldn't lose that position, not after seeing what it had done to Ralph.
Jack sniffed away his angry tears. Instead reminiscing the day they were first stranded, how they walked up the beach together. Talking about how they might just miss girls slightly, Jack smirking at the memory of Ralph's grinning face on the subject of sex.
Jack couldn't believe how innocent they had been, that over just a year they had grown so much; mentally and physically.
Whilst he was pondering, the boy finally got the cave. Thinking through the plan in his head once more, he couldn't help but let strong nerves get to him.
"Why am I doing this?"
…
The bloodied-up boy readied himself for what was to come. His final breath. The final punishment. He heard a low growl at the mouth of the cave, knowing instantly the sound belonged to Jack. But what was this? His followers' looks of confusion. Had this not been the plan all along? To strike fear in Ralph's heart before his death? No.
The growling became louder. Some little-uns beginning to huddle together. Even Roger gripped his spear tighter: "Who's there?" he bellowed, echoing through the cave. Ralph wanted to shout out: Who do you think it is you fools! But his gagged mouth only let out a muffled cry, Roger mistaking this as fear, bringing a slight smirk to his face. Maybe he did know his master's voice after all.
The source of the sound became known as it stepped into the light of the fire.
"It's the beast!" a little-un screamed, as a hooded figure crawled over to the group. Even the big-uns' eyes lit up with fright, their spears pointed at 'the beastie'.
The figure made a sprint at Ralph, scattering the group. Pulling out a familiar-looking knife his slashed through the ropes that bounded him and dragged him to his feet. Ralph couldn't help but just let the beast take him, anywhere was better than the hellhole he had been put in.
After an awe-filled silence, the group got their senses and looked to the newly found leader; Roger. "Well, don't just stare! Kill the beast!!" he screamed, raising his spear and sprinting out the cave, the tribe right behind him. The pair ducked and dived through the think jungle, the darkness clouding their vision. They could hear the murderous screams and chants from the many boys behind them.
"Kill the beast! Slit its throat! Spill its blood!"
"Kill the beast! Slit its throat! Spill its blood!"
"Kill the beast! Slit its throat! Spill its blood!"
