A/N: so I wasn't really ever planning doing anything like this, especially Lord of the Flies, but I had a school project that involved writing an alternate ending and it went so well I couldn't help but post it. Any who, reviews welcome, and keep in mind that this is only my second fanfiction

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Flies, if I did it would have totally ended like this

Chapter 13 Depravity's Grasp

"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 the 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." (Golding 200)

Ralph heard the crazed cries of the savages grow closer and closer. He tried to stand, to run, to crawl, anything to get him away from the Grim Reaper drawing near. He wasn't quick enough. Soon he was completely surrounded by the boys, the savages, he used to call allies. He could hardly recognize any of the painted faces that stood before him, he never would have thought that these monsters covered in smeared blood, mud, and ash could have been civilized English boys at one point.

Is that all we are? He thought bitterly. Are we all just savages hiding under a mask of sanity? Can we even call ourselves humans if we can fall to this depravity so easily?

Ralph was vaguely aware of the boys around him chanting "Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood! Do him in!" He looked without seeing as one painted boy with long, uncontrollable, red hair came towards him. He was saying something, but Ralph was far too deep in thought to understand. Through the red head's rant Ralph managed to pick out one word, the beast. That one word, that seemingly insignificant word that started the chaos around them, set off realization in Ralph's mind. He finally understood what poor Simon had meant all those nights ago. Spear in hand Jack raised his arm, chants rising like the scream of a banshee.

This is the true meaning of humanity, we are the beast, we are man.

Jack plunged his crude spear directly into Ralph's chest. As soon as the tip of his spear touched the boy's bare chest the other savages immediately pounced on top of Ralph, tearing, clawing, and beating their former leader. They watched on in sweet satisfaction as his blood stained the golden sand red. Ralph was dead. He could finally be reunited with Simon and Piggy, he could be at peace, he could finally go home.

None of the boys moved as their adrenaline rush started to wear off and fatigue took its place. A littlun cautiously approached Jack, "What are we going to do now?" At first he didn't respond, for he couldn't. He looked toward the burning island then at the mangled body of Ralph, he wracked his brain for a solution. His face flushed bright pink under his paint mask.

"Well obviously," he stammered "we'll…we'll, uh, wait for the fire and smoke to clear then we'll celebrate our hunt with a grand feast!"

His words instantly raised joy and merriment amongst the boys as well as pushed away their guilt and fear.

"And we'll string up his body as a warning to the Beast!"

Everyone was cheering now with the promise of scaring the Beast that had tormented them for days on end. Roger eagerly grabbed his sharpened stick and made his way over to Ralph. He grabbed a fistful of the blonde hair and lifted the limp body off the ground. He roughly tied the body to the stick with vines and torn clothing, a look of sheer excitement plastered to his face. Once his work was done he stabbed the sharpened end into the sand and looked with pleasure at their warning to the beast, to anyone, who dares mess with them. Sam and Eric watched on in horror, the scene of Ralph's murder replaying in their mind over and over like a broken record. They wanted to run, run away from the madness that has become their reality, but they were glued to the spot, knowing running would only make their awaited punishment worse.

It was well into the night before the fire had died and by sunrise the smoke had dissipated. Everyone had fallen asleep, yesterday's hunt finally having caught up with them. Jack was the first to arouse from troubled slumber. Seeing that the jungle was fire free he went to wake his hunters.

"Come on, get up," he shouted as he walked around shaking shoulders, "we want to have a feast, don't we? And we need to hunt and gather for that!"

When he started to shake Roger he was immediately pushed aside.

"I'm perfectly capable of waking myself up, thank you very much," Roger sneered, a look of satisfaction and contempt flashed briefly in his eyes.

Now that everyone was awake they began the long journey back to Castle Rock, Samneric being forcibly pushed and poked the whole time. As they were making their way through they were shocked. Every last fruit tree was burned right down to the roots. The ground was littered with soot and ash. The scattered charred branches looked as though they'd dissolve at the slightest breeze. A littlun with only a partially painted face came up to jack and asked, "All the trees are gone so what'll we do 'bout having fruit?"

Before Jack could answer, Roger spoke up, "Ha, who needs fruit when we've got meat?" He stated chanting, "Kill the Beast, spill her blood, cut her throat!"

Soon enough all of them were singing and laughing, all except Jack who was flushed with indignation at being showed up and Samneric who were too terrified to say anything let alone sing. However, their merriment was short lived as they walked upon the area where they first found the sow, their mouths dropped to the ground and their eyes went as wide as saucers. Even Roger seemed a little more than startled. What was once the pig's breeding ground was now their graveyard. All along the ground were the bodies of charred pigs of all ages from piglet to fully grown. Some of them had their last looks of horror still plastered on their face, some weren't even whole.

"What are we going to do now?" Someone shouted from the crowd of boys. The single sentence raised an uproar amongst the children.

"Without the pigs we've got no meat!"

"We're going to starve without them!"

"Does this mean we're going to die?!"

Jack swallowed the rising bile in his throat. He cleared his throat and worked up the courage to speak, "We will just take these and…" he couldn't bring himself to say they'd eat them but everyone understood the implication.

Reluctantly Maurice, Robert, Roger, and Jack went to grab one of the dead creatures. Some of them crumbled under their fingertips causing an ungodly stench to affect the air like a toxic gas. Ever so carefully the boys lifted the black creatures and continued their trip "home". Upon their arrival, Robert immediately dropped the carcass and ran behind some rocks, a hand over his mouth. Maurice and Jack ran over to the water and scrubbed every inch of their hands as best they could. Roger, however, calmly walked up to Sam and Eric and tied them down to a rock. He bent down so he was at eye level with them and leant in so he was right by their ears, "Don't even think about trying anything," his voice was so calm that it made what he said even more threatening. The only response he got from the twins was a shudder. Roger couldn't help but chuckle. Roger returned to where they dropped the pigs to find Jack and the others staring at them.

"I guess we don't have to cook it, right?" Robert snickered, desperately trying to lighten the mood.

"I guess not," Maurice replied, "so who's going to try it first?" No one made a move except for the constant looking from one person to another.

Jack spoke up, "Since I'm the leader," Roger threw a glare at Jack, "I'll pick who will try it first." He looked around and contemplated who would be the most expendable.

"You, go on try it," he pointed to a random littlun he thinks is the sniveling boy Percival.

The little boy opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Jack, "I'm the leader so you have to do exactly as I say." Jack pulled off a piece of the pig, if he could even call it that, and handed it to Percival. The little boy bit into the charred undercooked flesh and tears immediately sprang to his eyes. As he swallowed his face distorted in disgust as the vile food slithered down his throat. While Percival showed no initial signs of illness or other it was unanimously decided that they would wait until tomorrow before anyone else would try any.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, filled with fruitless efforts to catch fish and avoiding the rotten pile of scorched pork. The moment the sun set everyone was more than willing to sleep away their hunger, especially Percival who kept complaining about his stomach hurting. The next morning the boys were woken up to the terrified scream of a child.

"Jack, Jack, Jack!"

With a grumble Jack reluctantly sat up to face the whimpering child. Before he got the chance to get a word out he was being led over to a boy lying on the ground.

"He's not moving, Jack, and something was coming out of his mouth, but it's all dry now!" the child rambled on, tears streaming down his face creating little clean lines on his distressed face.

Confused Jack, followed by a few other biguns, went to check the child. Sure enough the boy was not breathing and bile had been dripping out of his mouth. Rigor mortis had already set in set in leaving Percival's face frozen in an expression of pain as if he had been choking in his sleep. Almost as if he couldn't stand to look at the child anymore Jack abruptly turned around and stalked away from the horrible scene.

He's dead, he thought, someone else is dead and it's entirely my fault. First Ralph-no he deserved what he got, but did the kid. If I didn't tell him to test the meat…

"Jack, you can't just-" Maurice began to protest.

"Shut up! Nobody asked you, did they?"

"Well then what should we bloody do then? We've got no food, no fire, and a dead body on our hands!"

Jack couldn't think straight, his head was pounding with a thousand different thoughts. There were so many he couldn't even tell if all of them were his own. Should we keep trying to fish? You silly little boy. But there weren't any fish last time, so should we just eat the meat? Just run off and play with the others. You don't want them thinking you're batty, do you? I don't know what to do! I bet Ralph would have known what to do. There isn't anyone to help you. Should we just give up? Only me. Should I give up? And I'm the beast.

"Just shut up, you don't know what you're talking about!" Everyone stared at Jack. No one had said anything at all, so who could he be talking to? Not being able to take the stares and his thoughts Jack stormed off and ran into the ashy wasteland.

Nobody spoke, all too shocked by Jack's sudden outburst. It was Roger who, uncharacteristically, broke the silence that had settled like a fog. "I'll go talk to him, the rest of you should go to the lagoon and try to catch us something to eat." He grabbed his spear and set out after their so called leader.

Jack kept running until his lungs burned with every breath he took and his legs ached. Not being able to go any further he took a seat on the barren soot ground and leaned against a dead tree branch. He sat there for what seemed like hours just catching his breath. He stayed like that until he heard the scuffing of feet against the ash. Jack's heart rate instantly sky rocketed, all rational thinking gone.

Soon Roger came walking into view. Jack let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, and yet he couldn't seem to relax. It was almost as if he felt deep down that the boy in front of him was not to be trusted.

Roger took a seat next to Jack, his eyes gleaming with unspoken purpose, and his hands never leaving his spear as if he felt like he couldn't trust the red head next to him. He turned and faced the boy, "So what do we do now?"

"Oh please don't ask that," Jack replied as he buried his face in his hands.

"We need food."

"I know."

"So what do you suppose we do?" Jack didn't respond, his face still pressed into his hands, his knees pulled up to his chest. It felt like all the fun of the island had been burned away with the trees.

"You know, I've an idea of what we could do." Roger smirked as Jack lifted his head to face the dark haired boy with curiosity. Roger stood up as he continued, "It's a really simple plan, too."

Jack started to feel tired all of a sudden. The world seemed to sway and he struggled to keep his eyes open. The weight of his actions having finally come crashing down on him. The island finally changing from dream to reality to nightmare.

Roger, with a knowing smile readjusted his hold on his spear, "All you have to do, Jack, is close your eyes and hold still."

Maurice and Robert, empty handed, led the group of littluns back to Castle Rock. They had been less than successful and of course the littluns did nothing but play in the water. When they arrived everyone was met with a pleasant surprise. Sitting by a roaring fire was Roger turning over several individual pieces of what looked to be meat. The boy's mouths started watering at the prospect of food and they immediately attacked Roger with a barrage of questions.

"Where'd you the meat?"

"How'd you get a fire going?"

"Where's Jack?"

"Well I used Piggy's specs and some extra cloth I stumbled upon to make a fire and as for the meat it doesn't matter where I got it from. But don't worry it's safe to eat, in fact it came all the way here from England. As for Jack he told me that he doesn't want to be chief anymore. To tell you the truth he put me in charge when he left," Roger answered with finality.

No one managed to get another word in for Roger had started passing out the slices of meat. Too hungry to further question they gratefully ate their food.

"Now I should tell you, there will be one minor rule change," Roger couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, "now, he who does not help will face severe punishment."

The chewing stopped for a brief moment and Robert chocked on his meat. The littluns eyes darted back and forth between each other.

"Don't worry, none of you will face punishment, or at least not today. You see, the one, or should I say the ones, who've done the least today are our guests Sam and Eric."

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief but they couldn't help the unrelenting amount of pity they felt for the twins when Roger stood up. It wasn't long before desperate screams filled the air begging for mercy.

It took less than three days for nearly all the littluns to have disappeared into the sooty wasteland now known as No Man's Land, for every time Roger led someone there, no one ever came back. Out of sheer boredom and irritation, Roger started talking out loud and having conversations with seemingly nothing. It was only two days later that Roger was all alone. With no one around the silence seemed even more so oppressive and thick he could actually feel it weighing down on him. That is until one day, as he was aimlessly wandering he heard a voice, "What are you doing out here all alone?"

He jumped and frantically started looking around for the source of the voice. Finding none he called out, "Who are you? Where are you?"

A laugh echoed through the air, "I'm part of you."

"What are you bloody talking about?" Roger's fear turning into frustration.

"You aren't like the others. You didn't turn away from me, didn't run away in fear of me, no, you listened to me. Now all you have to do is welcome me, join me. Together we'll have so much fun and that's what you want isn't it? To have fun?"

Roger felt like he was falling down with every word the voice said. He kept falling deeper in a sea of twisted reason as he listened to the voice. He clung to its words, finding safety and comfort in it. He wrapped himself in it and became one with them.

"Who are you?"

An amused chuckle resounded in the dark, "I am you."

A naval officer and his crew continued walking the island searching for any sign of life that would have been responsible for the rotting bones and flesh on a stick that had greeted them on the beach. When he had managed to track the location of the militaries missing plane he had hoped that the people on board had survived, but between the dead body and burnt island he was starting to reconsider his desires. The officer and his men continued walking up towards a rock area when the sight they met absolutely terrified them.

In an area that looked to have been inhabited at some point were bodies upon bodies of children. Some were bent at awkward angles with their eyes half covered by their eyelids, others mangled so badly it was hard to even recognize them as humans. Flies swarmed the area almost creating a cloud. Yet the most disturbing thing about the scene wasn't the bodies or the bugs, but rather the boy standing among them, staring at them like a feral animal. His black hair was long and tangled and his body was covered in dried mud and caked in blood. He was in desperate need of a bath and he was so skinny the officer could count his ribs. He approached the gazing boy cautiously as one might do for a wild animal.

When he was close enough he looked the boy in the eyes and asked him a very simple question, "Who are you?"

The boy smiled madly as if he didn't have a care in the world, "I'm surprised you don't recognize me," the officer cocked his head in confusion, "I am the Lord of the Flies."

Well there it is, my version of Lord of the Flies. I hope that wasn't too bad. Oh, in case you were confused the little part at the beginning was just to give you some context on where this thing started. Alright, I'm awesome, you're awesome, so stay awesome...and review...please