Disclaimer- I am not the owner of Lord of the Flies.
a/n hello, I wrote this when I read Lord of the Flies in school. It was a school project but I think it's pretty great. Tell me what you think.
Beast Of Burden
Roger could feel the manacles around his ankles. They were tighter today. A pair of orderlies nudged him along. The pretty nurse, Ava, followed behind with a needle of something, probably an epidural of some sort, in her hands.
One of the patients pressed his ugly face to the barred window. "They're out there." He said in a calm voice. He knew that they wouldn't believe him, they never did, but he always opened his big mouth anyway.
"Go lay down, Hank." Ava said in a calm monotone.
The orderlies shoved Roger again. "Watch who you're bloody shoving," He snarled. The newer of the two orderlies shuddered, but the older one just pushed Roger forward again.
If Rogers's hands weren't tied behind his back he would have bashed the man's skull in. Just like that man in London. 'Just like a pig.' Roger mused. But his hands were tied behind his back. The newer orderly smirked. "What's your name, boy?" Roger asked the orderly.
The smirk vanished from his face. He was defiantly older than Rogers sixteen years, but Roger was bigger and meaner.
"T-T-Trevor." He answered
"Ever been hunting, Trevor?"
"No, sir."
"I have. Killed things. You ever kill? The war, maybe. You a solider, boy?" Roger looked sinister with his long dirty hair in his face. He fixed Trevor with a vicious smirk. Trevor stepped back and the older orderly shoved Roger into his cell and sealed the door. The nurse stuck her hand through the bars and jabbed Roger's arm with the needle, but Roger didn't look away from Trevor once.
"Kill the pig! Cut her throat! Spill her blood! Bash her in!" He chanted softly under his breath until long after Ava, Trevor, and the other orderly were gone.
He turned from the window and looked around his cell. A tiny bed, a dresser, two widows (one looking out onto the lawn and the other on his door so that people could look in at him). Everything was standard issue. Except for the walls. One wall was covered in a detailed map of the island, it included little 'Xs' that marked things like 'first kill' or 'gift to the beast'. Above his bed was a pair of large eyes. When he was asked he told everyone that they were 'the eyes of the beast, but that was all you could see because the beast was always changing.' Both were drawn in thick black charcoal.
The drug that Ava gave him was just starting to take affect, but Roger had a job to do. Only after that would he sleep.
The hunter, for that's what he still was, approached the dresser as if it was a pig back on the island. He ran his hands over the cheap wood and traced the initials 'AL' and 'DL'. He always assumed that one of them was the initials of the last poor soul that was hidden in this room. Roger stood in silence for a moment.
Creak.
A door maybe? A prisoner lying down? No, Roger knew that it was the beast coming for him at last.
Roger had to act fast. He opened the door on the dresser. A small rat scurried around inside it. The whole of the hospital was crawling with these things. It hadn't been hard to catch one and sneak it back to his room. He picked the pathetic thing up and stroked its head. If he had more time he would have enjoyed his kill. He would have killed the Rat slowly. But Roger only had seconds. The beast could already be there, waiting. Roger suddenly started to squeeze the rat tightly. He didn't let ago until it stopped moving.
One of the things claws had dug into Roger's hand. He could feel his own hot blood running down his palm but he had no time for that.
Creak. Creak.
It was coming. Roger ran to the window and tossed the rat through. "That's for you, beast." He called before running back to his bed. Roger pulled his legs to his chest and listened. Creak, creak, creak. He slapped his hands over his ears and collapsed against the pillow. It took him only moments to fall into a deep sleep.
That night he dreamt of the island. He dreamt that he was hunting again and scaring the little'uns out of their wits. He dreamed that he was the most powerful person on the island. He had always been the strongest, stronger than Jack even. The dream morphed into many of his favorite past times from the island. Suddenly, he was on Castle rock. He could see Jack, Roger, and Piggy down at the bottom. Roger was suddenly filled with hatred for Piggy, that fat freak was still holding the conch and droning on and on about something stupid. He felt himself push the rock and he watched it smash into Piggy. All of a sudden he was down at the bottom of the cliff with Piggy. But that was okay because it was a dream and because he was unharmed. Piggy was all bloody and his legs were at odd angles. Roger lifted his foot over Piggy's head and was about to bring it down with great force-
"I'M ON FIRE!" A patient screamed. Roger sat up suddenly. No one was on fire and that made him mad. He rarely ever had good dreams.
It was morning, but Roger wasn't sure how early. The nurse hadn't come with his nine o'clock pills yet so he assumed it was eight. He flopped back onto the bed and looked at the map. After the rat clawed him he should have used the blood to mark where he killed Piggy. Roger had forgotten how much he had enjoyed killing. But last nights near run in with the beast and his dream brought it all back.
The door swung open and Trevor walked in. Roger had guessed the time incorrectly because Trevor had Roger's morning cocktail of velum and anti-schizophrenic with him. He handed the cup of pills and a glass of water to Roger.
"I read your file." Trevor said.
"Find anything interesting, Trevor?" Roger asked. He took the pills and handed both cups back to Trevor.
"Says you were trapped on an island as a boy. Says you got your first kill there. Any of that true?" He asked, although Trevor knew it had to be. Roger just nodded. "How many of you got off that island?"
"No one ever really leaves that island." Roger said with a smirk. Trevor left and locked the door behind him.
Roger sat back against the wall and went back to staring at the map. "No one ever leaves that island." He said to himself. The hunter closed his eyes and with out thinking started to chant "Kill the pig, cut her throat, spill her blood, bash her in….."