The flames had licked the entire island clean of nature. Trees became large black sticks that poked out of the gray soil. Bushes became desert shrubs. The creepers became dark copperheads that laid on the ground as though they were deceased. A thick black smog blanketed the Ghost Desert as a reminder of the fire that had brought order to the island. In the distance, a black dot producing smoke could be seen in the distance, moving away from what was once a child paradise for a short time. Wandering among the sands of the Ghost Desert was a naked, scrawny, muddy animal with dirty, greasy, disheveled red hair that covered its eyes like a red curtain. It carried a pair of glasses with a shattered lens in its left hand, and with the other, it was clasping a hole in its left shoulder that spilled out a black ichor.
It grumbled in rage as it made its way back to its den. The hole in its shoulder hurt badly, probably the most immense pain it had ever experienced in its short life, but it tried its best to shrug it off like it was nothing.
"Blasted–"
It tripped on a deceased copperhead, its head smacking against the gray desert sand. It snarled like a pig as it got up and wiped the dust off its face. It felt around for the spectacles but couldn't find them when they blended in so well with the sand. The beast trekked onward, trying its best to not fall again. It came upon what was once a roofed forest area, now an array of blackened poles sticking out of the ground.
The beast trekked onward.
Its stomach grumbled like an angry toddler as it clawed his insides. The eyes found a hunk of burnt flesh on the ground and began to tear it apart. It didn't care what specific part it ate, so, with some effort, it tore off an arm and sunk its teeth into the hunk of meat. The meat tasted terrible, yet somewhat pleasing at the same time, leaving the beast craving more and more as it continued to rip off strips from the carcass piece. Once satisfied, it dropped the boney remains.
The beast trekked onward.
Its vision began to blur, and the Ghost Desert became more like a haze gray dust and tall, slender silhouettes looking down on the animal. It lost its footing once or twice, then fell down a slope, rolling down horizontally. It hit the ground hard on its already wounded shoulder, causing it to wail in pain like a littlun as the feeling in the left arm ceased to be. In a long struggle, it finally got itself off the ground.
He had forgotten all about the times when he was a boy. He doesn't remember having a mom, a dad, three younger sisters and an older brother, a dog. He doesn't remember having a red brick home with a large backyard next to a thick forest where he and his brother would play hunters in. He doesn't remember his friends who he would play tribe with and pretend to hunt smaller kids who shared the same recess time with him, who would scream when he tackled his prey, when he would create harsh tribe rules and bizarre punishments for breaking them. When a teacher would yell them for their tribalistic behavior, he would give them the same excuse each time, "But we needed meat!"
The beast trekked onward.
Standing on its twig like hind legs, an anomaly came into view and a buzzing sound began to grow. It approach the alien slowly, taking all the time in the world to let the figure come into view. Finally, once close enough, it fell on its knees and stared at the true beast that stood before him.
The Lord of the Flies' blackened skull grinned as the insects caked it. "So, you chose to stay." The Lord said.
"They left me."
"They did leave you." It paused, then continued. "Because they saw what they have become."
"What have they become?"
"Who do you think you have become?"
"I'm… I'm… My name is…" But it couldn't say who, for its identity was lost when it pushed that messenger boy down Castle Rock.
The Lord began to share the flies with the beast as they matted against the other one's face. "As I thought. There is nothing left of you anymore. You are dead, you've only yet to realize it."
"I'm not dead! I am alive and breathing and- and-"
"It is not your body I speak of, but yourself. Jack is now dead. All that is left of him is an empty husk that lies before me, dying of a bullet wound that doesn't even bleed red."
There was a throbbing that pulsed throughout its body, causing it to collapse onto the ground in agony. It hurt more than it ever did in its life, but it continued to listen to its master. "Jack may have hurt people, but he never took life. I'm sure you remember the pig that fell from your Castle Rock?"
It opened its mouth to speak, but its voice came out slurred. "He…called us…kids."
"That does not deny the fact that his blood is on your hands, if you were the one to pull the lever or not."
"But I… I didn't kill him…"
"Quit denying it."
"I…" But no words could come out, as he could no longer make himself speak.
"Come to me." The Lord said. "Come to me, and I will tell you who you really are."
The beast threw up one hand and dug its nails into the ashen sand as it struggled to pull itself forward. It tried throwing its other arm out, but couldn't, so it brought the same arm forward and pulled once more. Its vision began to darken, and a feeling of incredible tiredness washed over it, but it still tried to pull itself forward until feeling was lost in its last good hand. Then, darkness. The beast could no longer see, no longer feel, no longer breath as it laid in the abyss of the Ghost Desert.
Jack found himself facing the Lord of the Flies once again, but the head was no longer a blackened skull, but a sow's head mounted on a stick that towered over him like it did when he was dying on the ground, with a red overhead light that's source was invisible, almost like a lucid dream. The flies surrounding the Lord's face were now red as they buzzed around its face and entered the many holes throughout the sow's face, hunting for mucus, just like how Jack and his hunters were searching for meat.
The Lord of the Flies grinned as it looked down upon the ghost of the red-haired student. "Let me tell you the truth, child, the same truth that I told to that spiritual boy. You never had innocence. You never were a child. You were never you." Its mouth curled into the most demonic smile one would ever see as it leaned closer to the thing named Jack. "You are a beast. The beast. The beast lives within you!" It shouted inhumanly.
Jack wanted to scream but found it impossible to do so. Skin on the sow's face began to sag and peel off as the hunters suddenly vanished. The head began to sink deeper and deeper down the stick as the face began to liquify into a colorless liquid that spilled into the pit of the darkness.
The endless dark void began to crack, chip, and shatter like explosions, revealing a white light trying to break through. He heard something call out his name, but he had no idea who as the last of the void broke apart and the light consumed him. Then the light was gone, and now he found himself in a gray void. White feathers fell from the sky above and gently fluttered down to the invisible ground before fading like they never existed. Jack took in the sight for an unfeasible amount of time before a spotlight shined down upon him. He felt his feet no longer touch the ground as he was began levitating upwards. He suddenly found himself on the ground again, in a place that looked just like the room with the feathers, but now he stood next to Simon, who had wings and a halo, and Piggy, whose specs were not only back on his face, but had both lenses, and wore a schoolboy's outfit. Jack looked down at himself and found that he was now wearing a gray T-shirt and shorts.
In the distance, he could barely make out a large red-haired man wearing what looked like a black suit. The man slowly turned around, but his face was shrouded in a white light, the only facial feature discernible was the mouth, which smiled at him. The man reached for the beast, and the beast reached for him as well.
The man known as Jack was waiting for him.
In the distance.