Title: The Lord Of the Flies: An Alternate End

Author: Lihrah

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or places mentioned in this fiction, nor do I make a profit from the writing of it.

Word Count: 799

Summary: What if the naval officer hadn't arrived and interrupted the manhunt?

Rating: K

A/N: This piece of work was written for English last year. I am happy to say I received an A- (I would have had an A+ if I had typed it then. I wrote it in the first 20 minutes of class the day it was due. I didn't type it until a year later when I was high on sugar and had absolutely nothing better to do. Yay procrastinators.)

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He stumbled over a root and the cry that pursued him rose even higher. He saw a shelter burst into flames and the fire flapped at his right shoulder and there was a glitter of water. Then he was down, rolling over and over in the warm sand, crouching with arm to ward off, trying to cry for mercy.

The savages arrived one by one, drawn to the ululations like scavenger birds to the site of battle. They arranged themselves in a horseshoe around him, blocking all exits but the sea. They brandished their spears and uttered grunts, unsure what to do now that Ralph had been caught.

It was then that Jack arrived.

He walked across the shallow stretch of sand towards the little group. His gait was smug and confident. He was flanked on either side by Roger, who wore a malicious grin under the paint and Maurice, who carried a spear.

A stick sharpened on both ends.

Jack held out his hand for the spear, a frightening smirk contorting the features of his elaborately masked face. His eyes were sparkling with the mad insanity of a man obsessed.

Ralph stood and crossed his arms, his chin jutting out slightly as he tried to keep his voice from quaking.

"You set the whole bloody island on fire again."

Jack turned to look at the smoke rising in billows behind him and giggled.

"I know. Isn't it beautiful? It was a great plan too. Smoked you right out like the rat you are!" He cackled.

Ralph stared at him in disbelief. He involuntarily took a step back, towards the ocean.

"But how will you get food? You burned all the fruit trees and all the pigs on this island are probably scorched black!"

"Shut up! You're not chief anymore! I can do what I want! We'll find food alright!" Jack lunged toward Ralph with the double-pointed spear. Ralph only barely managed to avoid it, the tip cutting through his arm instead. Jack growled like a predatory beast and lunged again, and again. Ralph was forced backwards until he was knee deep in the ocean. Both he and Jack were breathing hard, and Ralph had several cuts that stung as the salt water hit them.

"Jack, stop being an idiot and think about the other boys! You now have no food, and no wood for a signal fire. How are you going to be rescued?!"

Jack simply threw his head back and laughed.

"Who ever said anything about being rescued? We like it here! No rules, no parents and teachers watching, we can do anything we want and get away with it!"

The boys who were boys no longer, but painted savages, roared in agreement.

And then, Ralph wept. Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.

Jack stared at the weeping boy in shock for a little bit, surprised at the tears. Then he grinned and hefted his spear. He pulled his arm back behind his shoulder as far as it would go. Jack threw the spear, hard and fast, straight and true, right at Ralph's heart.

The force of the impact caused Ralph to fly backwards a few yards and land with a loud splash in the ocean. He floated to the surface, the spear sticking strangely out of his chest.

A large wave swept over him and consumed him. The hungry maw of the ocean pulled his body in, caressing him in its depths.

All was silent on the shore.

Jack was breathing hard. He shook uncontrollably. There was a maniacal gleam in his eyes that had never before been so pronounced.

He turned his back on the sea and walked towards his silent tribe. They all stepped back from him, even Roger, but from fear or respect it was difficult to discern. A split second of blue light flashed through the air, followed closely by the crack of thunder.

The fire had almost burnt out by now, having had consumed almost every piece of foliage on the island. It was extinguished altogether as big droplets of rain came pelting down.

The tribe made its way back to Castle Rock. A littlun began to sob and said that he was hungry. No one said anything, but went to their sleeping places. Jack was sitting on his makeshift throne giggling to himself.

Roger decided he was bored and began tossing stones at any of the littluns that seemed to be getting comfortable.

Samneric took up their posts at the guardhouse. They held each other close and shivered, crying for dear friends lost.

The beast had not left the island. Nor would it ever, so long as man's black heart survived.