I am SO sorry for not having updated sooner! I was honestly thinking of a good way to move things along in this story all this time. Please don't be upset with me! I plan to update more frequently. As always, thank you for your support and thank you for giving this a read! :)

Maurice laid on his back, taking in the sensation of the hot sand pressed against his skin. At first it had seemed like a comfort—but now that they'd been stuck on the island for a very long time, it even seemed like an annoyance to Maurice, which was saying a lot. "Bill," he said aloud. "Do you think Jack'll—" But he stopped himself short, because he'd turned his head to look at his friend and caught him fast asleep on the sand. Maurice sat up. He stared hard at his friend. "Bill?" he said a bit louder. "Bill!...BILL!" He had a reason for triple-checking the boy's hearing. Maurice flagged down Robert and Harold from a distance, begging for them to come closer with his hands. They approached, noting that Bill was asleep on the sand. "Is he dead?" Harold whispered. Maurice tried to suppress a giggle. "He isn't, but I'm going to be after this prank!"

Maurice gathered Robert and Harold closer to him, whispering out the plan: they were going to pile sand on top of Bill until he was completely covered (save for his head) and when he woke, pretend that he had come back from the dead. Giggling quietly every now and then, the three boys scooped handfuls and handfuls and armfuls of sand onto Bill, who never even stirred once. He was quite the heavy sleeper. It didn't take them very long because a few littluns decided the game looked like fun and joined in the help. Once completed, Robert let out a low whistle. "Maurice, you are a genius." he stated. The hyper boy bowed. "Thank you, thank you."

"What do we do now?"

"We wait for him to wake up."

"But that's not fair!" a littlun shouted. "I have to go potty, and I might miss it!"

"Then run," Robert suggested.

"Or go in the jungle over there." advised Harold.

"But Ralph said no going wherever we want!" the littlun protested.

"Ha! You actually listen to the rules? What a little kid…" Robert laughed.

Maurice giggled excitedly. "I can't wait either! Let's just wake him up now!" he bubbled. One of the littluns raised his hand. "We could use my friend Steven." he suggested. Maurice shrugged. "Alright, well where is he?"

"He's in my pocket."

"In your pocket? Is he real?"

"Yes, he's real."

"Well let's see him then! Prove it!"

The littlun rummaged in his tattered pocket for a bit, then pulled out a shell. "This is Steven." he announced. Maurice burst into laughter. "It's a shell! It's nothing but a stupid shell!" he gasped. But as the littlun held his hand still, the shell began to move. Robert nudged Maurice. "No, it's not just a shell! It's a…a hermit crab!" The others ooh-ed and ah-ed at the little animal. The boy put it on Bill's cheek; everyone held their breath as it started to crawl around. As it made its way under his nose, Bill drew in a deep breath. With a loud sneeze, he sent the hermit crab flying (the littlun retrieved it immediately) and his eyes opened. "Huh?" he asked groggily. "Where am I?" Maurice pretended to have been crying. "B-Bill?" he gasped. "You're…alive?"

"Of course I'm alive—wait, what do you mean?"

"We were just having a burial service for you…you died of drowning a few hours ago!"

"No I didn't! I was laying with you right here the whole time!"

"Oh, Bill, I'm touched that you saw me as you left your body and went to Heaven…"

"I never went to Heaven!"

"You…you went to Hell? Oh, I knew you were evil!" Harold shrieked.

"I didn't go to Hell either! I went to sleep, that's all!"

"He went to sleep in the eyes of God…how tragic…" Robert remorsefully said.

"For the last time! I! Did! Not! Die!"

"That must mean he's a zombie!" screamed Maurice. He led the others in bolting away from a very confused Bill, pointing back and shouting warnings of there being a zombie on the beach.

The fun didn't last long, however, because the familiar sound of a conch blowing redirected them towards the usual meeting place. By the time they got there, a littlun, Percival, was holding the conch. He had tears in his eyes. He was afraid. "Go on then," Ralph encouraged. But Percival dropped the conch and sat down in the sand, looking away to hide his fearful tears. Maurice did the one thing he knew to lighten the mood—make himself look like a fool. He hopped down onto all four and leapt in front of Percival, rolling and making his hands resemble bunny ears on his head. Everyone roared with laughter—even Jack. Percival's tears dried. Jack went over and demanded that he whisper what the problem was into his ear. After a moment of listening to the small boy, the redhead straightened slowly. "He says it's a beast. Comes out of the sea." he said aloud.

Simon welcomed the small boy back into the circle by putting an arm around his shoulders. The circle had gone eerily quiet. "M-My daddy says we haven't found all the animals in the ocean yet." Maurice murmured. "He says there's…oh, what do you call them…they make ink, and eat whales whole."

"A squid can't come out of the water." the ever-practical Harold countered. A pause ensued.

"Maybe he means it's some sort of ghost." Robert said.

"Maybe that's what the beast is—a ghost!" exclaimed Henry. A long time went by of pressing darkness and fearful heartbeats.

"…I don't believe in no ghosts. Not now, not ever." Piggy said aloud. Simon cringed, knowing Jack wouldn't like this response to his hunters' suggestions. He saw that Roger was sitting with the hunters, sitting with Jack—huddled close in nervousness. "Who cares what you believe, Fatty?" Jack shot back, moving to put an arm around Roger's shoulders when he cowered. Simon looked away. He wanted Roger to be comforted and assured the right way—that being not Jack's way. In order to take the attention away from his former adoptive-brother, Simon held the conch. "Maybe there isn't a beast," he suggested, just so that Roger would stop looking so scared and helpless. He saw the boy's head lift slightly in the dim light. "What do you mean there isn't a beast?" Henry argued. "We've been talking about it since we got here!"

"Shut up! Let him finish! He's got the conch!" Ralph yelled above the new chattering. Simon took a breath. All the eyes on him were making him nervous.

"Well, what I mean is…maybe it's only us." he said. He'd really intended to say more, to explain that he meant that they were only scaring themselves, but Harold blurted out before he could attempt to, "Nuts!" Simon gave the conch back to Ralph, feeling a little defeated.

Jack stood up, leaving Roger to shiver in the cold of dusk, to hug himself as he pondered the idea of there being an ominous, invisible being that could hurt him the way he was hurt back at home. "Alright, Ralph. Since you're such a fan of elections, we'll have a vote right now." Jack announced. "How many of you think the beast is a ghost?" Most of the hands went in the air, save for Piggy, Simon, and Ralph. Jack smirked victoriously. "Well, it's decided."

"Wait, wait. Now you've gone and scared all the littluns. We shouldn't have left this for dark—this sort of talk should be done in daylight. Besides, I'm chief and I say that the beast isn't a ghost!" Ralph shouted, silencing everyone.

"…Well, if you think there's no beastie, then why not hunt for it like I do? Because you're scared? Hm?"

"I never said there wasn't a beast, I just said I don't think it's a ghost."

"Then if it's something tangible—real, that is—then it can be killed, can't it? Listen up! If there is a beast, it's my hunters that will protect you from it!"

"Fine, Jack. Go pretend your boys armed with sticks can hold back a savage."

"Tomorrow, we'll look for the beast. And when we find it, we'll kill it for good! Oh, and Ralph? Will you be coming with us? The brave leader that you are?"

Ralph stared hard at the redhead for a long time, then finally nodded. "Of course I am, Jack." He smirked and cocked his head again, snapping his fingers once as he walked away. Roger obediently rose and hurried after to follow his leader. Simon did catch him glancing back as if it wasn't his choice to go the other way. Ralph dropped his hand onto Simon's shoulder. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's round up the boys that have fire duty tonight."