A Simple Affliction
A/N: Wow, a nice response! Thanks so much! I had this chapter already written, but didn't want to post in case the last one wasn't well received…enjoy!
Summary: What caused Jack Merridew to fall into ruin? What if something happened which changed the events on the island?
Disclaimer: Lord of the Flies belongs to William Golding. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.
Warnings: Nothing really. Due to demand, I've decided to make this light slash. Nothing beyond a bit of kissing, really.
Rating: PG13 American, 12 English.
The story is told from the points of view of many of the characters, so it may be a little confusing at times. Apologies!
Chapter 4
"Kill the pig, cut her throat, bash her in…KILL THE PIG, cut her throat, bash her-"
Ralph could feel his already pounding head begin to ache with renewed vigor as the continuing rhythm grated against his nerves. He watched through slightly blurred vision as Jack and his hunters approached, bearing the carcass of a freshly caught pig.
It hung on its back, neck split across and spilling a steady trail of blood, mouth hung agape emitting a silent scream. Ralph shivered, unconsciously wrapping his arms around himself.
"-throat, bash her in! Kill-"
He gritted his teeth and tore his gaze away, instead listening to the steady approach of beating feet upon the hard packed earth. It was practically midday now, the sun burning defiantly right above him, beating down. He felt compressed; pressured on all sides by an insurmountable weight.
The ground had begun to sway languidly beneath him, and he felt suddenly seasick.
"RALPH! We did it! We killed-"
Raised, excited voices joined the chaos which addled his mind, and he winced as horrific, painted faces swam before him. The heat of the day must be getting to him, he thought.
"Ever so big! We crept up-"
"Circled around!"
"I got it first, with a spear! But it fell, and-"
"She ran, blundered!"
"And then-"
A tentative hand touched his arm.
"Ralph?"
Ralph turned his head, blinking, trying to dispel the blur which impaired the edges of his vision. He vaguely registered Simon's pale, concerned features, and felt suddenly relieved. The fit of fever must have passed, them.
"We killed a pig, Ralph! You see?"
Ralph started away as a heavily painted, cruelly demented face appeared before his eyes. He stared, and for a moment thought he had gone truly mad. Then he recognized familiar, shining blue eyes in the face of a savage. Jack?
The immediate issue resolved, he returned once again to the matter at hand.
"You let the fire out."
Jack faltered in his feverish excitement, and spared a single glance for the now scorched remains of the fire. He shifted uncomfortably, and then a grin spread across his freckled face once more.
"Oh. Well…it was only out for an hour or so. And we needed lots of us. You should have been there, Ralph! The pig-"
Suddenly, the turmoil of voices struck up again.
"It was huge!"
"We circled around, then Jack-"
"I cut its throat! There was…blood, everywhere…"
Ralph looked down at the corpse of the pig, lying bulbous and starkly real quite close by. He hadn't noticed where they'd put it. The voices continued to press in around him, and the ground swayed ominously. He lowered his head, and stared down at his own wrist where Jack had grabbed it in his enthusiasm.
It was sticky with globules of blood, slick and hot against his bare skin. He felt suddenly light-headed. Dizzy.
Simon took his arm once more, firmer this time, and Ralph steadied himself against him, hastily wiping his blood soaked hand on the side of his shorts.
"Ralph? Are you-"
"Shut up! You shut up, Merridew, and all you others!"
Immediately, all heads had turned to regard a shining faced Piggy, who stormed unevenly over to them. The hunter's fell slowly silent, a toxic anticipation filling the already breaking tension.
Jack strode forwards, hands clenched in sudden glee.
"Who gives a damn what you think, Fatty?"
Piggy puffed out his already bloated chest, and his mouth snapped open with a ready retort. Ralph drew a deep breath, and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the pounding ache within his mind increase tenfold. The voices rose higher and higher, growing more and more angry.
"They…they let the fire out…"
Ralph licked his dry, chapped lips and took an unsteady step towards the bickering pair. Simon came with him, and Ralph shook his hand off irritably.
"You let the fire out!"
His voice sounded broken and hoarse, even to him, but it had the desired effect. All the attention of the crowd was now upon him, and the voices once more died away to fading whispers. He drew himself up to his fullest height, and noted, with some aggravation, that he was now shorter than Jack by about an entire inch.
Jack must have changed, grown, since they had first arrived.
Jack's clear blue eyes turned slowly to regard Ralph own honey brown ones, guarded. There was a short pause, as Jack slowly lowered his gaze, and looked from the dead fire, to the dead pig.
Ralph saw him swallow, and draw himself up just as Ralph had done. A strange conflict of emotions seemed to be raging within his eyes, and Ralph was glad. Within the face of that savage, Jack Merridew still looked out from behind the mask.
"But it was only for a little time, Ralph. And we got meat, so we can eat properly now. But I…"
Ralph frowned as Jack faltered, and wiped his bloodied hands subtly on the sides of his shorts. Ralph felt his mouth quirk in the tiniest hint of a smile, and Jack, seeing this, blundered on.
"…I apologize, nonetheless, for letting the fire out."
There came an upheaval of approving mutterings, and many of the boys looked to Jack with renewed respect for his courtesy. Ralph, himself, could not help a growing sense if respect for the other boy for taking responsibility. He nodded, trying to find the appropriate response in his still blurred mind.
"Well, I…"
He hesitated, and Jack grinned that lopsided grin. Ralph smiled sheepishly back, and they both laughed, as Ralph searched for the needed compromise to make their truce complete.
"Alright, then."
Immediately, the tension eased, and excited chattering broke out as the crowd turned away to begin cutting the carcass up. Jack rubbed the back of his head, then extended his other hand to Ralph, who took it, and they spoke quietly over their bond.
"I got carried away, I guess. Yesterday, when you…well. I should have consulted you. I'm sorry."
Jack squeezed his hand gently in sincere apology, and Ralph felt a sudden searing pulse of…something, run up his arm and creep across his spine. He swallowed, feeling blood rush to his cheeks, and abruptly pulled away, clearing his throat.
"That's alright. I probably overreacted, anyway-and it was a good kill."
At that, Jack's grin grew impossibly wide, and he opened his mouth to speak, when a second voice rose above the mutterings.
"Now wait just a minute, you-!"
Jack whirled on Piggy, and Ralph winced, feeling the lightened ache return with a vengeance.
"You shut up, Fatty!"
"I got the conch! Ain't I, Ralph? I got the conch! Let me speak!"
Ralph said nothing, and instead sat abruptly down on a nearby overturned log, a hand clutching his head. He gritted his teeth as face span once more before him, and he vaguely registered Simon once again placing a concerned hand on his shoulder.
"We need the fire, if we're gonna be rescued! Ralph! Tell them!"
Ralph said nothing, and heard the slap of flesh on flesh as Jack shoved Piggy backwards.
"Don't you start bringing him into this, Fatty!"
Piggy, indignant, looked desperately to Ralph, who felt indecision plague him.
"Ralph's chief! He has to!"
Jack only grew angrier.
"What the hell do you know!"
"I got the-"
"SHUT UP!"
There was a sharp whack, and Ralph shot to his feet as he realized Jack had hit Piggy upside the head, sending his glasses careening towards the edge of a sharp, ten foot cliff.
"Jack, stop! Stop it!"
Ralph grabbed Jack's raised wrist, staring pleadingly into the darkened eyes of a savage. He gasped, and abruptly let go, moving away. Jack frowned, and the darkness in his face faded, to be replaced by confusion and hurt at Ralph's fear.
Meanwhile, Piggy knelt at the edge of the cliff, staring at the broken lens in his glasses with livid disbelief.
"Me specs! They're..."
He turned his head sharply, and his voice grew louder and louder as he continued to rant at Jack.
"You and your hunting, Jack Merridew! Just wait! JUST YOU WAIT!"
Immediately, the savage had returned, and Jack shot forwards, roaring with riled anger.
"YOU THREATENING ME, FATTY!"
Ralph's eyes widened in horror as Jack's fist shot out, and Piggy started, drawing closer to the edge of the cliff. Too close.
"Jack, NO!"
Ralph wasn't sure quite how he ended up in front of Jack, nor did he feel much pain as the other boy's fist collided with his chest. He felt only a vague surprise as he was thrown backwards, beyond Piggy, and the ground gave way beneath him.
"RALPH!"
The fear in Jack's voice was his only comfort as he slammed awkwardly into the ground ten feet below. There was a sickening crack, utter agony, and then nothing but darkness.
A/N: You didn't think I'd let the 'let's all be happy and at peace' last, did you? (evil grin)
In the book, it seems to me that in this scene, Jack was angry that Ralph was not impressed by the kill. In fact, earlier on, he thought of how pleased Ralph would be if he got them meat.
Suspicious, hmm? (winks)
Comments would be appreciated! Please review!