Obviously, I had not finished it before school. "OTL Oh well.

This is the part where we say good-bye now. And I am oh-so well prepared for you hate speeches after this.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The whole adventure was a game of hide-and-seek.

Both of the parties were searching for pigs—the duo avoided Jack's tribe; Jack and the rest of the hunters avoided the "beast." Secretly, they believed in the fable. Though clearly older now, it was a fact to them that they had seen the beast. It came tumbling and the fright that surged deep through their bodies was still a fresh memory in their heads.

A twig snapped. The wind howled. In the distance, the sea roared.

Their panting increased each as they crept around. Neither of them gave up. Their instincts tingled with an intuition—they all knew that was a pig.

"It's close." Jack whispered to his tribe.

"Near." Roger told Ralph who was excited but superficially calm.

"The fire!" Jack beamed. He tossed something so old and ancient that no one even knew what it was called anymore. It was Piggy's glasses. Bill skillfully caught it with a hand.

"Where's Roger?" Jack noticed the absence of his right-hand man. The other boys ignored the question and quickly picked up the random twigs. They made a small pile and began to throw left everything in it. With the glasses and the sun, a little yellow head finally poked out of the pile.

"That ought to drive the cunning little wacco out!" Jack huffed. He looked at them with a pleasant smile as a gentle reward for a job well done. "Where's Roger?"

There was no answer, only lowering of heads. Jack dismissed it again.

Their empty stomachs growled for juicy meat and competed with the sky's rumbling. But the boys didn't just crave for the meat alone. Most of all, and ever so furtively, they craved for blood. The gore excited them and the victory was heavenly, like a glorious blessing bestowed to them- and them alone.

They carefully trod on the ground. The heat slapped their bodies. But it wasn't as scorching as the sun—just the right warmth from any good old bonfire. Their soles were all covered in mud. It was getting dim but the hunters were still out. The littluns didn't care.

No one did.

The clouds were painted a light shade of grey upon the dark sky. A flash of lightning. A thunderous boom.

A high-pitch squeal.

There was the upbeat thumping of the hunters' feet.

To the left! Or to the right? East! It's at south! Behind us?

Jack bent down on all fours and tried to use his sense of smell. Unfortunately, he could only sniff the rain's fragrance. Not a stench of trail but he kept on crawling. A pack of painted savages were right behind him.

The ear-splitting cry cleanly cut through the dead air.

"It's close!"

The rain began to fall hard upon the boys. Jack's pack of painted choirboys tumbled the slippery ground. The pig's squealing was growing louder, higher, closer. Their feet raced and so did their hearts. A cloud of grey smoke sprawled all over the island. The crying heavens have licked the flames to death. A symphony of coughs arose and mingled with the hammering rain. The occasional squeal was teasingly pervading.

Jack tried to part the dark smoke off his way. He sniffed the air but choked on the smoke. His heart palpitated at the cumbersome intake of the fumes. Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet was picking up a new rhythm. It was irregular, quick and choppy steps that no boy could make.

"Kill the pig!" The redhead boy swiftly swerved to the side. He dashed, only trusting to his intuition. The other boys broke into their usual mantra. The forest swished past their bodies in a blurry split-second. Then the chanting grew distant and faint.

He stopped.

He realised that he was alone in the black mist now. Jack called out names and only the lightning and thunder responded.

A sharp cry of an animal sliced the silence. He sprinted to the frenzied shriek. His instincts, his only guide in the smoke was obscuring his vision but he didn't stop. He slashed all the reaching branches and the green creepers. The cold sharp air slapped his robust skin. His spear tore down his path. Blue eyes glinted with hunger for both meat and blood.

There! A shadow! It must be the boar!

Jack advanced with a spirit so courageous.

Then he stopped.

A shot was all what it took and his body collapsed.

What's done is done.