Hi hi! I'm Matori. This is the first fic I've ever posted. It's a little out of my genre (usually I hang around anime), but when I saw the LotF category, I decided to post this. I wrote it for English class, and it got an A, so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in LotF. So don't sue me, cause you won't get anything :P

Jack was dreaming. And though he knew he was dreaming, he couldn't wake himself up. In the dream he was back on the island. He was running from the beast, but he didn't know what it looked like. He was surrounded by fire, yet he was never burned. He ran through the fire, jumped logs, and skirted piles of rocks. Branches whipped him as he ran blindly through the bush. All the while thunder was booming and lightning streaked across the sky. Jack turned to look at his attacker, but all he could see was a shadow, its outline blurred by its speed. As he turned his attention back in front of him, his shin slammed into a fallen tree stretched across his path. He fell, and the beast was on him. He turned to look the attacker in the face and saw.

His white ceiling. His eyes had snapped open at that moment, preventing him from glimpsing his attacker. Jack was slick with a cold sweat, twisted in his sheets from trying to run. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he lay back. As he finally drifted back to sleep, Jack wondered why his leg hurt, in the exact place he had collided with the log.

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Jack worked as a janitor in a hospital. The pay wasn't great, but it had minimal human contact, and on occasion he got to clean up blood. He wasn't sure why, but the sight of blood gave him a warm feeling. He felt as though he was in charge again. Jack lived alone, and he liked it that way. After being stranded on the island, Jack began to see people for what they really were: ruthless, bloodthirsty animals that would do anything, absolutely anything to survive. He concluded that as long as he stayed away from people, he would be above them. He left the world alone, so the world left him alone. That way, he could do as he pleased. The only drawback was that he had no one to command, no one to control. He longed for the power he had so briefly tasted while on the island. However, he remained secluded from society. One night, Jack had been working late. There had been a 5 car pile up, causing multiple deaths. Lots of blood. So Jack was in a fairly good mood as he walked home. Not happy, just content. As he turned down a side street, he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye. The shadow was short and fat. A glimmer where the face would have been indicated glasses. Jack turned to look closer, but the figure was gone. It's late. He thought. I need to get some sleep. But when he was just around the corner from his apartment, he saw another figure. This one was tall and lanky, and there was something unnatural about the way it stood. Before the figure vanished, Jack glimpsed a long spear, impaled through the figure's middle. Jack gasped and began to run. He made it to his front door, and fumbled with his keys in a panic. As he turned to close the door behind him, he saw the figure of a small boy staring at him from across the street. As the shape stepped into the ring of light cast by the street lamp, Jack saw a face burned out of recognition. As Jack stared, frozen in place by fear, he could discern that a portion of the face was discolored by a birthmark. "Go away!" screamed Jack. He slammed the door, locking the two huge bolts. After going through the apartment making sure the windows were all locked, he collapsed on his bed. "Why am I seeing these things?" he whimpered softly. He curled up, and after a while, he fell asleep.

The dream again. Running as before, only this time the fire raged higher. Jack could hear the beast chasing after him, even through the roar of the flames. He was also running faster than before. A flat out, fueled- by-adrenalin, panicked run. When he turned back from looking at his attacker, he slammed full force into the fallen tree. Only this time it hurt. A lot. He cried out, and as he fell he could hear the bones in his leg cracking, and he could feel the blood running down his leg. He turned to look at his attacker, begging to be released from the nightmare. This time though, the dream held him captive, refusing him freedom. Jack's eyes widened as the face of his pursuer was illuminated by the fire and he registered to whom the face belonged. He let out a scream of sheer terror, for the face of the beast, was his own.

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. When jack was found, the authorities shook their heads in disbelief. It was the strangest thing they had ever seen. The official coroner's report placed the cause of death as a heart attack. The report failed to mention that Jack had no history of heart trouble. The report also failed to explain why Jack's right shin was gashed, bloody, and broken in three places. No one noticed the three figures standing in the corner. A short, fat one; a tall, skinny one; and one with a birthmark discoloring part of its face. The three looked at each other, smiled, and disappeared. Their job was done.