Okay, so it's been a while since I updated, and I'm super sorry for that. But I've got a really exciting action-y chapter ready for you! This is where the action is really going to start. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far btw! And I don't feel like reading the the disclaimer, so our dear ginger friend is here to read it!
Jack: Hammsters owns nothing except for Leah (thanks for that btw :).) Me, Ralph, ROger, and everybody else all come from the wonderful (and slightly angry) mind of William Golding.
Hammsters: Thanks Jack! And I agree, he is angry. And prejudice. Not ALL gingers have no soul. Anyways, everybody, enjoy!

Roger practically drags me back to the hunters' camp. When we get there, two familiar faces catch my eye.

"Sam? Eric?" I make no attempt to mask the hurt in my voice. Their faces are heavy with guilt.

"We had no choice!"

"Roger's gang-

"-came and took us away in the night-"

"-tied us up and beat us-"

"-we couldn't get away!"

"I'm so sorry Leah!" they stammer out their explanation, finishing each other's sentences as usual. I smile weakly to show that I forgive them. Roger shoves me forward. We get to the center of camp and Maurice binds my hands and feet tightly with vines, practically cutting off my circulation. The "ropes" sting my frail wrists.

"You have everything you wanted. What could you possibly have to gain from capturing me?"

"Quite a bit actually. For one thing, other people's pain greatly amuses me.," Roger replies.

"So you're going to kill me for entertainment What am I, a gladiator?" he smirks.

"While I would like nothing more than to gut you like a fish and jump rope with your intestines," Nice description, I think, Who. Guessed. It. "We have other uses for you." This freaks me out a bit. One girl on an island with a whole bunch of hormonal teenage boys? I've seen this movie, and I don't make it to the sequel.

"And those uses would be...?" I ask nervously.

"Think about it. You've got my two biggest threats trailing you like love-sick puppies. What do you think will happen when they hear your screams of terror and pain coming from our camp?" He's trying to trap Ralph and Jack. He wants to kill them. No. I'll never cooperate. I'll stop those screams from coming, even if it means accidentally biting my tongue off in the process. Roger seems to know what I'm thinking. "And if you don't scream for us, the hunters have their own ideas of what to do with you." I'm pretty sure if this were a movie, I'd be crying right about...now. But it's not a movie and I refuse to give Roger the satisfaction. Roger grips my shoulder tightly and leads me into the forest. He pushes me till I'm facing a tree. He forces me into a crouching position then ties my wrists to the tree. I can hear Roger ask someone for another vine, a long thick one this time. That can only mean one thing for me.

The vine cracks as it makes contact with my back. I grind my teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Roger strikes me with the make-shift whip again and again and again. The lashes begin to break through my skin. I feel blood oozing down my back, but I don't scream. Roger drops the vine and crouches beside me. He slaps me as hard as he can, then turns my face to look at him, his long dirty fingernails digging into my cheeks.

"Not gonna scream, hih? Fine," he stands and walks back towards camp. Just as he's walking out of the jungle, he calls back to the hunters, "Have at her boys!" I tremble with fear as the savage hunters close in around me.

At the end of the day, I have two black eyes, countless bruises, many, many, many cuts, and I've been bitten (that's right. BITTEN) a grand total of seven times. The boys want me dead. Roger's got them convinced that I'm the bad guy. Since killing me won't do them any good, they figure beating the crap out of me is the next best thing. A few minutes after they leave, Roger walks up to me and whispers in my ear:

"Prepare yourself. Pull that stunt again and tomorrow we unleash hell." He walks back to the camp silently. I whimper softly and cry myself to sleep.

The next day is much of the same. Only, it hurts so much more. ROger gets bored of his whip and breaks a branch off a nearby tree. He beats my open wounds with it again and again. Tears streak my dirt coated face and blood paints the ragged back of my tattered t-shirt. He kneels beside me and digs his fingers deep into my cuts. I can't hold it any longer. I let loose a loud cry of agony. It is the king of all horror film screams, a shriek to be reckoned with, as that Lord of the Rings dude would say, one scream to rule them all. THere's no chance. If someone told me Ralph and Jack didn't hear me, I might believe it. If I knew for a fact that hell had frozen over moments before. Only one thought clouded my mind: what have I done?

Jack's POV

We're searching through the woods when we hear the Achilles of screams. A girl's scream.

"They have her," Ralph says cursing under his breath. That son of a bitch (Roger, not Ralph)! What has he done to her? We're pretty near the hunters' camp, but I don't care. Worry and fury fog my better judgment.

"LEAH!"

Suspenseful. I wonder what our good red-headed friend is going to do to save his girly-friend.
Jack: I'm gonna save her!
Hammsters: 'Atta boy! But, don't be so sure. Never know what could happen. Review if you want to save Leah's life! And Jack! Cause I'm pretty sure William Golding meant for him to be "mentally ill" and Leah's the only thing keeping his sanity. Do it for the children! And me! But, mostly for the children!