Chapter 5: In which we have some discussions

Well, that didn't go as well as he'd thought.

Whatever attempt he'd made to assure the others and himself that the beast was only a tempting fear was long gone to them now. He supposed that he should really have seen this coming; not even he had believed his own argument all that time ago. Although, he'd just hoped that it was convincing enough. Guess not. For most of them, at least.

Simon seemed to have proved himself to be the only exception to the unrealistic fear, and it was an enigma to the blonde as to how he could keep such confident composure in a crowd of people who were certain they were going to be attacked at any moment. As he had begun to suspect when the matters of the beast were brought up, it seemed to have fallen into a similar uncanny valley, the category that was occupied both by it and the hunting. He'd begun to understand why he was seemingly so afraid of killing-he had to admit that it was quite unnerving as their obsession developed, but he still couldn't understand why the fear had developed so early on, when it seemed there was nothing to worry about. He'd chalked it up to a serious softness for animals, although he wasn't certain that was the entire truth.

The fascination he had with the mysterious case had only expanded as the swing of day to night continued, although he knew deep within his soul that it was a question he could not bear to ask. It was not an askable question, simply because he knew that he was not ready to hear the answer. At times he believed these assumptions to silly, but there was always the social implications of hesitance that reminded him that they were not as inane as he thought. And of course, there was always the fact that it would be Simon himself he would be questioning-and then there was always the other thing. Something he couldn't quite place about him in particular, something that went beyond the mystery that surrounding him. Perhaps it was the intrigue. It was a relatively small feeling in comparison to everything else, and he didn't know quite what to make of it-so he tried to not think about it too much. Sometimes it would cross his mind in the middle of the night or while working on the seemingly unbuildable third shelter, but he did his best to concern himself with more survivalistic matters.

There was, also, the dreams that plagued him. Not really dreams, perhaps, despite their contents-but he could never shake the feeling that they were in fact nightmares, taunting him with the memories of home. The signal fire still fed him hope of rescue in the meantime, but it was nothing compared to the brief sense of safety he experienced while under the belief that he really was back in the garden, meeting the mares that came to peer over the low stone wall, and lying under the idyllic sun…

Then he was snapped awake, and came back to grips with the reality of abandonment. Although he wasn't completely alone, he reminded himself.

Of course, there was something among all of this to be happy about. Two of the three shelters were finished and relatively stable, although when the wind picked up he almost jolted, afraid that something would come crashing down on him at any second. But they never did. So he continued to sleep in the dying leaves he had placed on the ground to guard his sunburnt back against the grain underneath. It didn't really concern him who was in the shelter with him, as at the end of the day he was usually too exhausted to care. Although, admittedly, he did have some preferences, of course stemming from the friendships he had formed. Overall, though, he was just glad to not sleep in insect-infested grass anymore.

Now was one of the times where he was lying on the ground, enveloped in a dreary heat, contemplating when he would return to his place of birth and relish in societal safety once more. He went undisturbed on nights like these, where the only sounds were the occasional crying out from the littluns about similar nightmarish experiences and the incoherent screeches of avian creatures in the jungle. However, he was a little unnerved and curious to hear the sound of rustling somewhere within the shelter, and he opened his eyes as a precaution. There was a moment of his vision adjusting to the darkness, and another where there was nothing in his line of sight-but then he caught sight of a pair of friendly brown eyes peering down at him, accompanied by a vague smile. Instantaneously he recognized them, and at once he was bewildered.

"Sorry, Ralph. Were you asleep?"

He only shook his head, unwilling to break the silence he kept in the middle of the night. Although he was still perplexed as to why he would be spoken to at a time like this.

"Sorry. I couldn't sleep either. I want to talk to you about something. Come outside, please."

There was a severe lack of commandment in his voice, and yet the strongest implication that there was no possible way Ralph could deny his request. He figured that this probably was for the best, anyway, since maybe using more of his energy would finally ease him asleep.

Brushing the pale yellow bangs out of his eyes, his friend had already long left him alone among the others. In the darkness, he could recognize none of them-that was a bit odd to him, but he brushed it off as a simple trick of the dark and nothing more. He gave a quiet sigh and rose slightly, his back somewhat arched as he made his way out of the shoddy construct and onto the white sand on the beach.

At first he was hit with an uncertainty of where to go. He'd never looked too closely before, but the darkness covered the island like a blanket of void. He'd grown used to the commodity of a streetlight, always there to provide some illumination to the sheet of blackness that nightly covered the area, but it was peculiar for there to be nothing at all to break through. He sighed internally, knowing that it would be a long while until he returned to that place, and once again he thought of the garden, and the horses, and the domestic flowers-

"Come over here."

Reminded of his task, he turned in the direction of the voice and saw a silhouette standing not too far away from him, atop a grassy mat, in order to provide some hearing distance from the pair and the others. Complying, Ralph set quietly over to get closer, and stopped once they were about within three feet of each other. It felt strange to get too close to another person in this manner. After such a long time and the fear mongering he'd been put through, it just simply did not feel right to be in such close proximities, but he did not move for whatever reason. The smaller boy gave him a friendly smile before it faded into a neutral expression, one not so dissimilar from when he was reminded of the concept of hunting.

"I didn't mean to ask you at an odd time like this," Simon said, "but we're busy during the day, so I thought that now would be a good time."

Ralph only stared, still confused as to what he was talking about. "What?"

He almost expected for there to be another smile, but there was none. The neutral expression seemed to deepen into a slight frown.

"Do you believe in the beast?"

That was a question he was certainly not anticipating. He'd figured that it was obvious at this point, or at the very least to some extent-maybe not the last of his beliefs were present through implications, but certainly there was something that told the others that he reflected their fears. Maybe Simon was only asking to be sure. There were very few things to be sure of, anymore, so that must have been it. Although he was equally unsure of what his reply should be.

"Well…" he started, but it was nearly lost. "I don't know."

Simon nodded knowingly. It seemed that his answer was enough, and despite the words he'd understood. His slight frown shifted, almost unnoticeably, to a look of forlornness. Judging from the silence that followed Ralph's reply, he expected there to be no response and only a quiet, short trek back to the sleepless nights in the shelter. But instead, there was actually something that followed, for no reason he could discern.

"That's alright."

Then there was another short silence, but this time the neutral expression shifted. Now there was fear present, too, and Ralph wondered why that would be so. Although, he assumed that this newfound expression of fear had to do with Simon's unexplained dread.

"There is nothing out there, Ralph. There is nothing out there… except for something… something…"

He trailed off. His tone was unusual compared to what it had been before. Just like the new emotion in his expression, it too had changed to a tone of fear, but it seemed glazed and rushed, like he'd begun to lose some sort of footing in his words. As if he was panicked, perhaps. Ralph's eyes watched in anticipation, almost thinking that he was going to get the answer.

"What is out there?"

Simon looked away for the first time since the start of the conversation. His question had very much to do with Simon's innate fear, and although he felt obligated to ask, he still was guilty to do so.

"Something… something. It wants something. But it's not a beast. It's not something we can see. But it's out there…"

Confusedly, he asked another guilty question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that the beast isn't real. There is no beast, Ralph. There's something else out there, but it's not a physical being. I know that I'm just talking nonsense to you, but please, you have to believe me. There is no beast."

The panic in his tone was greater now, and it was even more so one that Ralph couldn't quite place. It was absolutely genuine, and suggested the connotations of a more intense dread that he was feeling at the moment. And he could say nothing in response; he could only let Simon respond for him, to his own plea.

"...Do you believe me?"

Ralph flickering his gaze away and swallowed uncomfortably. That was even more not what he was expecting to be asked. He wanted to say that yes, yes, he did believe him, but he couldn't. Because he was still afraid. He cursed himself for that fear. The inherent liking for Simon that had crossed his mind several times had returned in that moment, and at that time everything in him told him to agree. But he wouldn't lie to him. His response was just a double-edged sword, and an inevitable one at that. But Simon still waited, patiently and innocently, hopeful that he would indulge himself in his plight and all this could be forgotten, and things would go back to the way they were before, before the day of the meeting where the existence of a beast was called into question.

Ralph could only manage a shameful stare at the sand below him as he finally thought of a halfway decent reply. "I don't know." And instantaneously, he hurriedly thought of something else to say: "I'm sorry, Simon."

He expected something more than what he got. Maybe comforting reassurance or some sort of friendly nod, at least. But Simon only gazed at him sorrowfully, his expression sad and with hints of disappointment.

"That's okay. I understand." A momentary pause, and then he continued. "I'm afraid too."

That he knew. Maybe perhaps he would now be informed of the unspeakable fear that plagued his friend, albeit doubtedly.

"Don't be afraid. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Ralph's reply was not as thought-out as he would have liked it, but it still came out nonetheless. He didn't believe it himself, due to his unfortunate bestial fear, but he thought it to be true for Simon. The inherent liking urged him to provide the comfort for his friend he wished had been bestowed upon him. But Simon shook his head, knowingly.

"No… it's… bad. It's bad. Please, Ralph, don't you understand? What is going to happen?"

It seemed that his attempt at consolement had miserably failed. The remnants of the glazed panic Simon had been under before seemed to have returned in retaliation to his words, and apparently that meant that Ralph's statement, his attempt at consolement, was true for no one, not even Simon.

"What?"

Having been flung into his former ominous haze, Simon hurriedly but vaguely seemed to be trying to inform him of something he still couldn't understand. "What they're going to do… and we can't stop them. Because they're afraid, like the rest of us… like you and me… because that's just what they do… they fall off the edges of morality, and then… and then…" He trailed off, but when Ralph thought he wouldn't continue, he did just seconds later. "Then they'll… they don't like me, right? I'll be first… after what they did to him. When we were on the mountain. They want to do the same to us, Ralph… it wants to do to the same to us."

Suddenly exasperated, Simon cut himself off, now adorning a new expression of panic Ralph had never seen on someone before. He narrowed his eyes in unknowing sympathy. He had not the slightest idea of what he was talking about, but whatever it was definitely seemed to worry him quite a bit. But what was that even supposed to mean? What did what want to do to them? If one thing was for sure, whatever something wanted was certainly not good, if his panic was anything to say about it. It almost scared him, in a way, but he forced himself to push down those feelings in favor of his own fears. He sort of got a very minimal understanding of what was trying to be told to him, but it was like trying to connect puzzle pieces that were strewn all over a room. None of what he said made no sense, no matter how badly he wanted to be understood. Still, trying to console him further despite the failure he found in his last attempt, Ralph reached out and pat him gently on his upper forearm.

"It's okay. Please don't worry."

Grimacing, Simon nodded unconvincingly. "I'm sorry. I was just talking a whole lot of nonsense again." He looked down and the grimace faded. "I'm sorry. Don't pay any mind to me."

The brown eyes looked at him again tiredly, calmer now that he was able to vent his rather cryptic frustrations. Both of them knew, in different ways, that what had happened on their excursion out into the night was senseless, but it didn't seem like either of them really cared. As friends they just liked to spend time together-maybe this is what it was like to have a great friend, the fair boy thought. He'd had close friends like anyone else, sure, but he wasn't quite sure that he'd like to walk out in the middle of the night on a nocturnally dangerous beach to talk about something that may or may not exist.

With another small bout of silence, Simon stepped slowly to the side around Ralph and it was clear to him that the discussion was over. He was left to stand in wonder in the darkness, as the soft sound of footsteps on sand could be heard behind him. He was a little worried that the panic in Simon that had transpired was due to his own actions, but he reminded himself that he had nothing to do with whatever he was so afraid of.

Well, at least he hoped so.

Deducing from his descriptions of the people involved, it seemed that he was apparently a primary target. But from what? Or from who? He theorized that, perhaps, Simon got worked up over Jack's violent tendencies, and maybe he'd thought that instead of hunting the pigs, maybe he would start to hunt something… else.

He dispelled the thought as he began to walk quietly back to the shelter himself. That was ridiculous. That was wrong. No one would ever do a thing like that. It's murder, that's what. They would murder no one, that was just wrong, he couldn't imagine such a thing being done.

Or maybe Simon had a reason to be afraid.

The next morning was not nearly as pleasant as he had hoped it to be. Ralph awoke only a little more rested than he felt the night before, but nonetheless he forced himself to pull it together and he tried to get himself to work on the final shelter again. But he had no partner.

He didn't know if last night's event had upset Simon or something like that, but he went at the usual time to start his work again, and he even waited for a while to see if he would come. But he didn't. He found himself quite disheartened at that; he wasn't trying to upset him. In fact, he wasn't really trying to upset anyone. He just didn't know what to do or say to something that bore such intensity as Simon's words from the night prior. What would he have said? What could he have said in response to the theory of something that did not properly exist, and yet it did, and supposedly it was some sort of looming threat? It seemed almost silly, in a way, like something he'd read in some sort of prophetical tale. Surely, those things did not truly exist, not in the real world.

He waited a little longer on the sand. Maybe Simon had gone off into the forest much earlier than expected, and he'd wandered off in the middle of the night after they'd talked. Maybe he went to go find something to eat. If the former was the case, it was unfortunately likely that he would not return until late in the afternoon, suddenly, as if he were never gone at all. But if it was the latter, then maybe he would be back soon…

He was somewhat startled by a rustle in the bushes behind him, but he didn't turn around yet. He knew that it wasn't his friend, somehow. So he only stood, in wait, and continued to stare forlornly at the sand.

"Hey, golden boy," a voice jeered behind him, and he finally turned around and was met with the person he'd actually expected. Although, for once, he was not with one of his hunters, creating more of an unexpected sight, despite the fact that he still retained the typical trait of him being armed with his spear.

"What?" The nickname had caught him admittedly off-guard.

The other only smirked and dismissed the question facetiously, and posed one of his own. "Where's your friend?"

"I don't know," Ralph replied, honestly. "But someone needs to help me with the shelter." He forced his gaze to burn into Jack's with the strongest implications he could possibly muster, and he knew for a fact that the other had full knowledge of exactly what he wanted. But it already seemed he had other plans in mind, and he played off the statement as though he had no idea what he meant.

"That's too bad. But hey, I have something to show you, until your good friend decides to show up. Good as in, he's in working condition." The hint of a snicker followed his statement, and the fair boy picked up on it immediately. A rather rude comment, he thought, and especially so considering the disadvantageous circumstances of the person in question, but he supposed that he should expect no less from what he'd come to learn about Jack.

His interest in what wanted to be shown to him was honestly a little high, but nonetheless he told himself to stand his ground. There was proper work to be done, and if no one else was going to do it, he would. "I can't. There's work to do."

"I know that, but would it really be so much to ask to leave for a couple of minutes? The world's not going to end anytime soon, you know."

Ralph diverted his gaze from Jack's, self-assured that there was no more reasoning to be made with him, but he still figured one last statement of disagreement wouldn't hurt. "No. I have to stay here."

"Bollocks to that! What's so important about the shelter?"

There were a lot of important things about the shelter. It would provide more space to sleep, and it would keep more of them safe. And it would keep more of them cooler during the nights, since they wouldn't be so close together. But there was also an important thing about the process of building the shelter, because he felt strongly that an apology was in order, somehow.

"Or what is so important about the person you're building the shelter with?"

Ralph looked back to meet his gaze, but now Jack's smirk was dangerous, and that perplexed him. He seemed to have a strange fascination with questioning him about this.

"Nothing. Fine, what do you want to show me?"

"It's out in the forest," Jack replied, almost hurriedly, and that spark in his eyes returned again at Ralph's indulgence in his request. "You'll see. I found them."

Well, looks like apparently everyone was being strangely ominous today. First ramblings about something that might exist and then something about them in the forest. Although, as Jack turned and began to make his way to their destination without them, Ralph began to naturally assume that this had much to do with his odd swinish obsession. He didn't know why he, of all people, would be shown such things, considering the fact that he had little concerns with the world of hunting, but he guessed that he was still the chief and he would have to know about these things one way or another.

Still, as he caught up with the other, he wanted to ask if this perhaps had anything to do with the strange, invisible creature.

"Has Simon told you about something weird? Like something he's scared about."

As expected, he was met with a suppressed, deriding laugh. "No, he doesn't tell me anything. Seems like he doesn't even want to speak to me, but he sure seems to enjoy talking to you a whole lot." There was an aggressive huff, oddly not pointed at Ralph himself for once.

Ralph didn't really know what he was getting at. "What does that mean?"

"He's the only hunter that doesn't hunt. Like he's got a grudge against it. He wastes his time talking to you rather than doing the work he's supposed to." That was more of what Ralph expected, Simon being ridiculed for the fact that he apparently wanted absolutely nothing to do with hunting, and Ralph being somewhat insulted. He tried to pay them no mind. All he wanted out of this conversation was to see if the redhead knew anything that could shed some more light on Simon's panicked ramblings.

"Well, whatever. He asked to talk to me yesterday, and he kept saying something, about how he was afraid of something in the forest that we can't see. Not the beast."

The redhead bared his teeth in a scornful chuckle. "Hah. He's just batty."

"No, he isn't," the fair boy retorted, suddenly feeling a surge of defensiveness, "he's my friend. I know he can be weird sometimes, but he's just afraid of-of a beast. One that we cannot see." He tried to word the last lie more carefully, since he had full knowledge that it was not true at all, but that was the least he could deduce from last night's ominous ramblings. Besides, what he had described seemed like some sort of monster anyway, so it was probably synonymous with the beast.

"Yeah, you can go on, insisting that your little friend is special. But that's besides the point. He's just batty, talking about something like that. It's impossible. Invisibility isn't real, Ralph."

As soon as the redhead had finished his scrutinous words, they had come to a considerably large, sylvan rock that Ralph had seen before, but never bothered to scale since he figured that what was on the other side was of little interest to him. But as he stared at the viridescent boulder, he quickly came to the realization that the redhead had already left him and had climbed it with ease. Forcing himself into action, he hurriedly followed in his footsteps, and landed on the other side of the obstacle to a part of the jungle that he actually had not seen before.

He kept the conversation and question concerning Simon in the back of his mind, as he recognized that they had reached the place Jack was trying to lead him to. Sunlight was not as scarce here as the rest of the forest, and there was a rather large and visible earthy ditch not too far away from them that appeared to be an ideal sight for some sort of den, as sunlight filtered past the ferns that shielded it and denoted it as a sunbathing spot for any animals that happened to be passing by. Animals, he thought, such as a pig. Of course. What should he have expected.

"There's a meadow past here. But this is where they hide," Jack explained, creeping forward past the leaves and edging towards the ditch. "I've been looking for this place for a long time. If we cornered just a couple here… we could have a feast. With meat." The ginger bared his teeth like some sort of beast himself, obviously starving for the scenario he described.

Ralph shook his head dismissively, unconcerned by this newfound place but undoubtedly a little excited at the prospect of eating something other than fruit, although he refused to admit it. "Why would you show me this place though? I don't hunt."

"Maybe so, but you're the chief, aren't you, golden boy? Shouldn't you know about where your fellow little friends are? Even when they're out in places like this."

The statement was followed by another trademark smirk, and Ralph once again knew that the questions posed to him had more depth than what they appeared as. He didn't let the insult get to him, however. How was he supposed to know where people were when they wandered off into the forest by themselves, without any witnesses, and hid in there for hours? Or maybe the insult was intended to hurt him more because he wanted to know where that hidden place was.

"Besides," the ginger continued, "as leaders, you and I are in charge of mapping out this whole island. Although it seems more like you'd just like to map out every grain of sand on the beach."

"Stop," Ralph cut in, growing sick of his derision. "Simon and I work because no one else will. Because this is all you do, is go out into places like this and hunt for pigs! What's so special about them, anyway?"

"You wouldn't get it. I am working. I'm working to get us better food. Won't you appreciate that?"

"No! We have the fruit for a reason, Jack! We have to get other work done before we can do things like that! We have to get the last shelter done, and we have to work on getting water out to everyone, and keep the fire going! Don't you want to go home? Don't you want to get rescued?"

Jack narrowed his eyes in contempt. The last questions served as infallible inquiries to Ralph, things unable to be argued with. Yet his confidence in that broke a little when he still received a negative response.

"I don't know. If we go home…"

"If we go home, then we will be safe," Ralph angrily finished for him. "We can't spend the rest of our lives here. Like Piggy said. We might stay here till we die. But I'm trying not to think like that. If we have the fire, we might go home and be safe again."

The pale blue eyes narrowed further, as if trying their hardest to think of a point. "We might," he said after a moment of silence. "But if not… then… we will have to hunt the pigs. Don't you remember? Humans can't survive on fruit alone."

"I know that, but it's also a waste of energy. It's been so long and with all your attempts you haven't even caught a single pig!"

The smirk had returned. "I could say the same about you and your little third shelter."

As much as he tried to not let the statement irk him, Ralph was still highly irritated nonetheless. He turned to face the boulder with aggravation and walked noisily towards it, crunching the leaves underneath him with force, rousing some of the resting pigs in the ditch and causing some confused squeals and disoriented shuffling. "There's going to be a meeting about this. There's work to be done and no one is doing it."

Ralph reached the top of the stone, and sent one last unhappy glare back down at the redhead who only stared at him with some odd, unknown look on his face. It wasn't particularly happy, or sad, or angry, or it wasn't even the smirk that was usually upon his face; it was only another strange look he couldn't quite deduce, which seemed to have become a little commonplace these days.

"I'd expect better from you."

And yet again, Ralph's comment brought about the incorrect reaction, one that he was not looking for, and it came this time in the form of a vexatious smirk and another contempt statement.

"You'll see."

With that, he swung his legs over the top of the rock, clambered down it, and strode angrily back to the beach, his apparent place of residence.

Well ouch, this is kind of late, but nonetheless here it is. I had a bit of writer's block, oops, so that hindered me a little, but nonetheless here it is. Hopefully we'll start getting into the good parts soon, but for now we have some spooky foreshadowing. Don't know how long these updates are going to take from here on out, but don't worry, I said I would finish this and it shall be done, so even if it takes a while, don't worry about it.