He stumbled over a root and the cry that pursued him rose even higher. He saw a shelter burst into flames and the fire flapped at his right shoulder and there was the glitter of water. Then he was down, rolling over and over in the warm sand, crouching with arm to ward off, trying to cry for mercy.
He was cornered like a mouse in a trap as he heard the ululations coming closer ringing in the back of his ears into his very soul. To his back was the same sparkling blue lagoon still bright with efflorescence of tropical weed and coral, to his front was the forest and creepers and soon the hunters would be emerging. Ralph heard the unrestrained screams and absolute release of violence and intensity without even a speck of refinement. It was all gone now.
They had crossed the threshold and it was too late to go back now. Once something so suppressed and natural is free, one cannot put it back in the same Pandora's Box as before. His feet were burning on the hot, bright sand and his throat parched and cracked from the unusual exercise. His legs knocking together like pins that had only kept up so far because of the harsh pounding of adrenaline throbbing in his veins.
They were here. They surrounded Ralph creating a half moon circle leaving no possible escape as Ralph's eyes desperately tried to find a way out. They didn't get too close; they left about 4 meters in diameter, enough space for him to move around but not to break out. Each hunter splattered with dark green and black making their eyes gleam demonically and holding their spears with such fierceness one rarely sees except in the depth of true hostility.
Ralph now truly understood how spies turned in their own countries, how people became atheist, and how people could betray themselves. As he saw their spears pointing at him, his pride and self respect fled him in one jump flying into the ocean. He was only left with the will to live. He didn't care about anything anymore. Simon, Piggy, the littleuns, or even who was the chief. Jack could be the chief. His desire to stay alive engulfed every other thought and morals in one look.
"Jack, look I'm sorry. You can be chief okay?" It was too late for any amount of normalcy; the desperateness was too obvious to hide now. And for once, Ralph didn't care.
"You think you can apologize now? And that everything will be okay? I am chief whether or not you approve. I am the great hunter chief, better than you ever were or ever will be." Jack ended the speech with a loud harsh cry that rang in the air.
This time facing his troupe, "Have I not provided for you? Have I not been a great chief? I hunted and lead everyone. Now here is our pig." Ralph stirred uneasily, he didn't understand. Jack was too occupied in showing his ownership and possession.
Jack repeated once again firmly,
"Now here is our pig."
The rest of the hunters immediately understood the second time around. First it was low but as the voices began to rise, Ralph heard, "Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Kill the pig! Bash him in!" Their desire to hurt was overwhelming. Jack took a step closer. "Good bye Ralph" Ralph stumbled backwards and fell and darkness filled his eyes, body, and every breath in his body.
The next day on the peak of their castle at the very top on top of a spear laid the head of Ralph. Five years from now, the littluns will whisper and point, "That's the Lord of the Flies".