The boy with the fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon. He moved as fast as he could, often stumbling and tripping over rocks and branches, in his effort to escape this cruel place the others referred to as an island. Visions of the recent past invaded his mind. He saw himself, blowing on the conch to summon the boys, or rather, what were once boys. The innocence and care-free nature that defined the term boy had long since left them.

He saw Piggy, his only true friend - his lifeless corpse being whisked away by the coming tide. He saw Simon, in agony as the savages were attacking him, look up to him in a desperate plea, his eyes filled with fear and regret. Regret for a life not lived. Regret for a home he could never return to.

Ralph, his fair hair now long and matted against his face, stopped suddenly. He sat, and, for the first time in a good deal of time, cried. He cried for Piggy, for Simon, he even cried for Jack, for he knew that Jack, inside, was struggling; struggling to regain himself. Though they had never truly got along, Ralph had always desperately wanted to think of Jack as a friend.

Ralph realized that, even if he managed to free himself from this cursed island, he would never regain his innocence. He had seen the horrors that even children were capable of, and he would never be able to view the world through the eyes of a child again. So still, although he had wept all the tears he could weep, he cried.

At last, Ralph knew what Simon had known. There was a beast on the island. But it was no animal; it was not even one creature in particular. It was Jack, Roger, himself, and even the littluns. They were the "beast".

But, however small, he still clung to the shreds of hope that remained in his battered, broken heart. There has to be a way, he thought to himself, and, even if it kills me, I will find it. There would be no more running for him. He decided that he must make a stand against the savages. He stood, a new gleam of resolve in his eyes, and turned. He began to run.

-o-O-o-

The hunters had circled the island now. Slowly, in unison, they marched inwards, gradually choking the island with a savage grip. Ralph could hear their chant, piercing, even after he had covered his ears.

Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!

Ralph had little time to think, but he knew he had to come up with a course of action, lest they surely kill him. His realized that the current situation looked bleak, at best. He decided that he must confront Jack and Roger, attempt to reason with them, and, if all else failed, he would kill them.

-o-O-o-

"Come on men!" Jack shouted, "Keep closing in!"

Jack marched forward, furtively ahead of the rest of the group. Roger followed close behind, holding a stick, sharpened at both ends. Currently, only Roger and Jack knew the reasoning behind this, but he had a feeling that Ralph was soon to find out.

As the hunters approached the tree line, for the first time, they saw what they had done to the island in the few short months they had occupied its sprawling forest. The trees, once lush, green, and full of life, were now turning a sickly yellow. Their trunks were taking on a much darker appearance, almost as if they too, like the boys, had given in to the evil in their hearts. Deep gashes covered almost all of the trees, and the grass surrounding them had all but died.

Jack wondered, now, if maybe he had taken this chief business a bit too far. Perhaps, things were better left as they were, and not as he had wanted them.

"No," he said to himself quietly, "I haven't the time for those thoughts now. Ralph is my goal, and I will see this through."

Ralph knew he needed a weapon. All of the hunters were armed with sharpened sticks, so Ralph thought one step ahead. He scrounged for a chunk of rock, and beat against another, larger, rock, eventually sharpening it down to a crude point.

"This will have to do; I don't have time to worry about detail."

He snuck his way to the lagoon, and peered through the branches of a small shrub. He saw Jack making his way toward him, though Ralph knew he hadn't been spotted yet. He also saw Roger close behind, a grin on his face that Ralph could only associate with evil, pure and unrestrained.

He was beginning to doubt himself now. But he pushed that aside. He knew he had to be strong, or they would tear him apart. Quietly, he made his way onto the beach.

"Hey!" Ralph shouted.

Immediately, all eyes and spears were focused on him.

"I only came to talk, Jack" Ralph stated fearfully, glancing at the tip of Jack's spear.

"Hahaha!" Jack exclaimed, "Alright, I'll humor you. Speak."

Ralph swallowed down his last bit of fear, and began.

"What you're doing is wrong, Jack. I know you know i-"

"That's your opinion." Jack interrupted.

"No, I'm sure most of the people here are thinking the same thing." Ralph paused in case anyone was going to step out and agree. None came forward. "Please, Jack, just calm down, and stop with all this chief nonsense. People are being killed over it!"

Jack thought on that last note. "No, people are being killed because you won't just accept me as leader, when everyone else has. Now, you're next."

Ralph knew his plea was getting him only closer to death. Slowly, he reached for the sharpened stone he had been carrying.

-o-O-o-

A man looked out over the island from a ship several hundred feet offshore. He was dressed in clothing that identified him to the American Navy.

"Dock her on that beach." He shouted, "We'll split up and sweep the island for any stragglers."

As the ship came aground, the officer noticed what appeared to be a stick with a strange object on it. As the ship neared the island, he made it out to be the head of a pig, or boar. Alarmed, he hurried off the ship to investigate.

As he neared the pig's head, he noted that it was in an advanced state of decay, obviously having been here for a good deal of time. He looked around now, and noticed tens of bodies piled together on the beach. He noticed two bodies in particular: a boy, ugly without humor, ginger hair adorning his head, and another with fairer hair, but long and somewhat tangled. He wondered how these boys had all come to be on this island, and why they were all dead in a pile now.

The officer turned to alert the others of his finding, but he then noticed the pig's head. He assumed he was just imagining things, but the pig seemed to have turned. It was looking at him now, with an incredibly sinister look about it, almost grinning.

Alternate, Alternate Ending:

As the ship came aground, the officer noticed what appeared to be a stick with a strange, almost egg-shaped object on it. As the ship neared the island, he made it out to be the head of a young boy, with fair hair. Alarmed, he hurried off the ship to investigate. As he neared the head, he noted an expression of horror on the boy's face.

A loud cry startled the officer, and he heard footsteps nearing him. As he turned around, the last vision that ever entered his head, was that of a ginger-haired boy, makeshift knife in hand, and a sadistic look on his face.