Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
A/N: I wrote this for a school assignment. We had to take one of the scenes from the book and rewrite it from one of the characters POV. I had a lot of ideas, but this one seemed the one I could write the most about (with my teacher, length equals good) and have it still be good quality (quality equals even better). It's not the best thing I've ever written, but I do think it turned out decently, so I thought I'd share. Read, enjoy, review, you know the drill. (grin)
Under the palm trees there was deadly silence.
They stared back at me, shocked into silence by my question. I resisted the urge to scowl like a petulant child, instead drawing about me like a cloak that commanding authority that was second nature to any self respecting school prefect. They needed a push in the right direction; that was fine. I could give it to them, give it better than he ever could.
"Hands up, whoever wants Ralph not to be chief." Standing before them, I pictured myself akin to one of the ancient conquerors that we used to read about in dusty history textbooks. Napoleon, maybe, or Alexander the Great. I almost smile at this, but manage to fight it back just in time. I liked that. I was a conqueror, and today I would conquer. I waited patiently for my troops to rally about me, ready for me to lead them into battle against my enemy.
But the silence continued.
Something lurched deep inside of me, something that made my stomach clench and my head feel slightly dizzy. This wasn't right! They were my troops! They were my hunters! Why weren't they...?
I could feel the blood drain from my face, turning it a ghostly white, and then to my immense embarrassment I felt it come rushing back in a hot flush that spread across my cheeks. They couldn't. They just couldn't. They couldn't choose him over me!
Desperately, I licked my lips to try to bring back moisture to my suddenly dry mouth, turning my head away so that I wouldn't have to look any of them in the eye. I didn't want to see what was in their eyes right now.
One last time, I tried to speak. "How many think–"
I couldn't finish. My hands were shaking around the conch as I realized that for perhaps the first time in my life, I was standing alone.
There was another moment's unbearable silence, and then I cleared my throat. "All right then," I said. Setting the conch down, I blinked back tears of humiliation and forced myself to continue. "I'm not going to play any longer. Not with you."
Most of the others were staring at their feet now, refusing to look up and see my defeat.
Cowards.
Again I cleared my throat. "I'm not going to be part of Ralph's lot–" It was almost too much, admitting that I had been defeated. Gritting my teeth, I turned my gaze to my hunters, and was suddenly calmed by what I saw there. Each one of them met and held my gaze for just a moment before dropping their eyes to the ground once again. A tiny smirk played at my lips, and I bit the inside of my cheek to hide it.
"I'm going off by myself," I declared. "He can catch his own pigs. Anyone who wants to hunt when I do can come too."
I looked fiercely once more around the assembly, then stalked out of the triangle and stepped towards the edge of the platform. A sudden shout stopped me in my track.
"Jack!"
I turned around and glanced – no, glared – back at him. How darehe? How dare that, that, that coward even think he could call me back to his side like some kind of trained hunting dog! I was no tame pet to be running at his heels, forever forced to listen to his delusional ideas about fire and rescue!
...Was I?
"–No!" I cried, my voice coming out in a high-pitched shriek. I could feel tears running down my face, but I didn't care. Whirling, I leaped down from the platform and raced off into the forest, leaving the weak little chief and his pet Piggy behind.
I ran blindly, branches grabbing at the remains of my clothing and tearing my soft human's skin to ribbons. I didn't stop until a root wrapped about my foot and sent me flying heavily into the ground.
I lay panting in the underbrush, anger coursing through me. Muttering, I ran through my repertoire of schoolboy's curses, insulting everything from the root to the forest to Ralph and his mother.
It didn't help. Words were Ralph's domain, and I could find no refuge there.
Snarling, I pounded my fist into the nearest tree, sending a burst of pain up my arm. Strangely enough, such an act was enough to release me from my rage.
I pulled back my hand and stared dully at the broken skin on my knuckles. Red drops of blooded welled up and began to roll down my hand. They seemed almost to glow in the dim green light that filtered down past through the leaves above me. They reminded me of the last pig that I had killed, and the beautiful blood that had sprayed from the gaping wounds and spattered my hunters with its intoxicating power. I felt that familiar smirk begin to play at my lips again. There would be more hunts, more blood, more power as soon as my hunters came to me.
Laughing to myself, raised by hand to my lips and licked the blood from off my skin. Oh, they would come, I was sure. I could tell it from the way Roger had leaned forward in eager anticipation, and in the blind faith I had seen flicker across Maurice's face when his eyes met mine. That faith and trust had been mirrored in all of my hunters.
They would come. They couldn't help it. We were hunters, and I was going to be their chief.
Their conqueror.
My smirk grew, and my eyes seemed almost to glow with a manic light as I began to plan the hunt.
They would come, and we would hunt, and then...
Then, once the others had realized that they could never eat fire, once they had joined my tribe and my reign on this island was complete, once Ralph was all alone, then...
I chanted our mantra softly under my breath, imagining my enemy brought down to his knees at my feet. "Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"
Then we would hunt.