Almost drunkenly, the figure of Simon emerged through thickets of creepers and those tiny jungle weeds that slit at his ankles and feet. He'd heard the boys running from it, and heard their terror, but still, he wasn't prepared for the sight before him. His stomach rolled as a cold perspiration coated his tanned skin. The heat of a noon peeked sun brought him closer and into the shade. The flies sung about, humming the same melody his nightmares had, "kill the pig.. Slit her throat.." the deafening sound of a ruler striking the hard surface of a desktop shocked him so that the small boy jumped and fell over, spraining his wrist on the forest floor. The voice of an adult, no..many adults shouted loathsomely down on him, "LITTLE BOY! PAY ATTENTION." ...it was his father, the school headmaster, and that of the dead parachutist. "Now what's the answer?" the voice came again, backed by laughing school boys. Simon only stared, drop jawed to the pigs head. His fathers voice prevailed, "IM NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN!" at that, something in Simon snapped. " I don't know the answer.." Came his voice meekly. "Of course you don't child." a threatening new voice arose followed by a long pause. A fly tunneled into the pigs nostril, and it didn't seem to mind. Simon had the instinct to run, and he was answered, as if he had spoken aloud. "In death alone do you escape me..." the creature hissed. "The beast..." Simon called out, astonishedly. "You're batty." the voice of ralph judged indignantly. "No..." Simon replied as if he were now speaking in a normal conversation, only and ounce of desperation to convince was perceivable. "Flithy little boy and your lies." the pig grunted. "In ignorance you confide. Now, begone! Leave this place. I don't want to play with you any more." The shit streaked rod trickled in crimson blood still warm with newly taken life. "Simple Simon", the pig teased, "And you believed the beast was something you could kill. But you are weak. You will never defeat me." Simons courage spoke before his mind threw logic into the mix. "I WILL kill you. I WILL NOT let you harm the others." the broken voice screamed in a fit of prepubescent rage. "Oh? But I have already taken three. You cannot protect them dear child. You are weak." images of the mulberry marked child flashed before his minds eye. "You..!" cried the boy pitifully. "US!" shrieked the beast with such ferocity, it shook Simon to his core. "Us Simon.. I am a part of you." the sadistic voice continued, merging into one demonic tone that defied mans vocal abilities. " no.." Simon blurted, stunned, crawling now, on hands and knees, the distinct pain of his wrist numb with every inch forward unto the lord of the flies. "They hunt you now as they do me.." the voice became more rapid as Simon broke away from its hold, backing away, cringing. The voice was a madmans, a demons, perhaps the devil itself. "WE ARE THE BEAST!"

Shrieking laughter filled his head as Simon stared at the beast. It merely grinned, its

gore ridden entrails festering in sun scorched heap just below the head, brought a fresh wave of flies. The voice continued as glazed blue eyes smarted with potential tears. His mind stressed, his body tensed, the child postponed his breath. Seconds went by that passed like hours until darkness fell over the two. Vacant sockets stared back at the rigid boy posed a few feet away. Simons head spun with the lack of oxygen, fear had penetrated him deeply, holding his lungs against him until the withheld had taken his consciousness.

The laughter continued into the night, running wild through trees but was muffled by the tune of chants as small feet danced about the shadows of twilight, stamping to the beat of a tribal drum. None opposed this, as if by instinct alone, they willingly stripped themselves of human clothing, becoming as Jack had long embraced the darker side of survival, that so far away from kindness and compassion, intelligence and comprehension, that each was to the other a potential sacrifice to an animality deep inside. A threatening heat came over the circle amongst the roaring fire, and leaping flames, they were searching, all eyes, for the weakest, the choicest target of their aggression. The pink blob stopped dancing about, sweat instantly covering his forehead, a pounding heart in tune with the stamps. Torn from the creepers and wildly screaming, a new target revealed itself. Thrown to the sand floor below, the beast began a sobbing account of what had transpired as he'd roamed the forest alone. The animal ears sympathized not with the sorrowful beast, for now the circle was complete. He hadn't seen it for he hadn't looked up. Something in his being had screamed it at him, perhaps, he'd think later, this was what the lord of the flies meant.. The beast a part of him. Adrenaline became him as Simon darted for a gap left between the twins, Samneric. Footsteps fell silent along the sand behind him, but the howls foretold he would be caught.

Simon found himself trapped in Jacks strong grip, his eyes widened, again, breathlessly repeating the gibberish of impending danger that the masked hunter didn't seem to hear as the embrace became tighter. Simon felt the familiar loss of breath become more apparent with every moment he peered that red and black face. Instinct tore him away from the piercing gaze of bright eyes a fight for his life ensued. The party had circled about, all those he had come to know, seemed to not only wish him harm, but be the one to inflict that harm. Simon shook himself, this wasn't happening.. The island didn't exist. A fist struck him back to reality, a mouthful of blood and sand proved the island existed and he was about to die. Left with only panic, fear again consumed his fragile mind and he lay prostrate until the darkness encompassed him. The faint was almost instant as he hit, but his mind seemed to work faster than that, killing the boy lying on the beach before the nightmare took full flight within his mind. He knew the limits of hell and all its fury as those above gave in to primal urge to torment the body. He saw them, even piggy in which he'd grown accustomed to the reserved intellectual, Simon's jaw dropped at the sight before him, though the flames did roar, and his bones broke under the terrible gnashing of teeth, the beating to his physical form both twisted and confused his mind. One figure stood alone to battle away those enclosing about his body, yet the glowing specter became less apparent, fading into the nothingness that would ensnare him for perhaps hours.

He awoke with a start, a cold touch to his back, only to be repeated again in the rise of early sunlight. He lie weakly, testing his battered limbs a few broken bones, there was no doubt in that. His blue eyes burned with the salt fixed upon them, only to again feel the sting as sunlight spilt over a cloud far in the eastern distance. A slow and steady pain made his feet jerk away from the cause, that of a large sand colored crab clipping away the flesh on his soles. Again the tide rolled, salt covering his wounds, he moaned in unsurmountable pain. Openly crying, he drug himself from the threatening waves and overcast sun, into the cover of shadow beneath a half bent palm. He watched the crab, trying to focus on anything but the recent events. However, the creature disappeared with a wave leaving no trace. It was then the thought entered his mind. It would be so easy.. To just.. Disappear as the crab. In death, there was no island, no pain.. Only a liberating sense of finality. He stared in a kind of dream like trance until the call of the conch beckoned him from is daze. Fear struck him, for now he felt sure they would again come for him, and force him into that nothingness to where the crab had ventured. Simon huddled close to that tree, each time the conch bellowed, he became a smaller ball.

It halted. And for several more moments he did not move. A sigh broke the silence as he peered about for any sign of his tormentors. He felt relieved for the first time in weeks, his brain began pouring out the scene of all those boys gathered together, arguing, discussing, calling each other names.. and then the dance. Order ended in chaos as he saw them, running, howling through a pig run, paint twisting their faces into the demons that gnawed at his being, they were chasing something, the pig shrieked in panic and fled fast, but no matter which way or how fast the pig would go, they gained. The circle had trapped the animal yet again. He found himself the center of this madness as before, cowering and whimpering. The daydream was cut short by a faint touch to his shoulder, he looked over eyes full of tears. The butterfly contrasted brilliantly with his tanned skin, the mix of tropical brilliance stole away his emotion and gave him something that had slipped away since nights before. He smiled, there was hope and death could not take that away.