WARNING: There will be a scene with gore and possibly disturbing content in this chapter.

Chapter 3

"Sébastien!" Annabelle shouted, desperately trying to calm the terrified boy. "Calm down, just calm down and tell us exactly what happened. Calm down, Sébastien. It's alright. We're all here, everything's fine. Relax. Stop screaming."

"What the hell is going on?!" Jack attempted a different approach, as he grabbed the boy by his shirt and picked him up like a feather. "Sébastien, stop crying and tell us WHAT HAPPENED!"

"Stop yelling at him!"

"DON'T tell me what to do," he retaliated. But he turned to Sébastien, who was still whimpering with fear, lowered his voice and asked, "Sébastien. I'm sorry. Can you please tell us what happened? Before we go insane."

Panting and gasping for breath, the crowd now circling the three people waited impatiently while he struggled to speak. Finally, after one last gulp of air, Sébastien began:

"I was wandering around the forest a little on my own, just seeing if I could find a pig on my own. I wanted to be the one to kill the first pig, you know? Or at least find one myself. Cause we weren't having much luck. So I was just walking around, a little further to the other side of the island than everyone else, when-when I heard something behind me. I looked, and it was something big, and dark. I think it had hair, or fur, or SOMETHING! I don't know, I didn't get a close look! I just ran here as fast as I could, because I felt it chasing me. I thought it was going to kill me!" He lifted his arms, showing the blood-streaked slashes. "I ran so fast, I didn't even bother to get the creepers out of the way. But I swear, there is some kind of animal on the island! I know it, I know it was dangerous because-" Swallowing loudly, his eyes widened at a thought of what he had seen in the woods. "Because there was all this blood, blood under the tree, on the trunk. I don't know what it was, but I swear to you, it was some kind of beast. I think it's a deadly animal." Silence filled the air as this news sunk into the crowd. It was followed by whispers, some of doubt and ridicule, but mostly of fear. Fear. It was the most dangerous thing that could be on this island right now, Annabelle knew that. She was suddenly worried as well, but she couldn't let this scare everybody into doing something irrational. She had to keep the people calm.

"Okay, give us some space, everybody! Just-uh, go back to what you were doing! We need to have a little discussion here. Please, if everyone could just back away for a minute!" Muttering rapidly amongst themselves, the crowd slowly separated. Putting her hands on Sébastien's shoulders comfortingly, she murmured, "It's going to be okay. Everything will be fine. Now go get a drink of water, and stay by the campsite. I'm going to find someone to treat your cuts soon. Just wait while I talk to Jack." He didn't hesitate to obey the instructions. Watching him dash off, she let out a heavy breath of worry.

"What are we going to do about this?" she asked once Jack was the only one standing next to her. He scratched his head in reply, playing with the pointed end of his spear. Annabelle put her hands on her waist. "You don't know, do you?"

"No, I don't," he mumbled. "But we've got to keep them calm. This whole thing could freak everyone out, and make them lose control.

"Exactly," she said in agreement. Suddenly, they both looked at each other wondrously. It was the first time the two had ever been of the same mind, and Annabelle realized that she was actually discussing something calmly with him for assistance. Maybe he could become a trusted confidante, a sort of co-leader. She now knew she was expected to take charge of things around the island, and with Jack's authority over the hunters, he could be of great help. Blinking, he coughed awkwardly.

"So, um…yeah. We have to keep everyone calm. So nobody gets hurt."

"Yeah," she replied. "How can we do that?"

"Maybe…maybe we should just tell them there is no monster. I mean, I don't believe there is."

"But then Sébastien would think we don't trust him."

"I'll deal with him," Jack assured determinedly. "You tell the rest of them that there's no monster, and no animal. They like you. They trust what you say." An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them as he spoke his last words bitterly.

"I'm sure some of them like you better. For example, Hazell."

"She's kind of freaky…she's obsessed with hunting."

"Like you're not."

"Well…"

"Guess she's perfect for you," Annabelle chuckled.

"Back to the subject," Jack growled. "I'll talk to Bastien, and you settle it with the crowd, 'kay? Convince them that this monster doesn't exist."

"But…" She paused for a moment, a worried frown appearing. "But what if there is a dangerous animal? Sébastien said there was blood. What kind of pig slaughters other animals, Jack? We don't know what kind of things live in the forest; we've only been here a couple of days. How do we know there isn't anything out there? What if we tell them that nothing is, and something happens? They'll never trust us again."

He stared. "You really think there's a beast out there?"

"Well-maybe." Ending sheepishly, she felt silly at what she had said. Of course there couldn't be a monster. It was a childish idea. However, there was always a risk with the unknown, and they knew NOTHING about this island. What if Sébastien hadn't simply imagined it?

"There is no monster. That's what you'll say to them. There is no animal, and we're perfectly safe." Jack finished decisively.

"I don't mean monster, literally, but predators do exist in tropical areas. We never know!"

"END of story, Annabelle," he snapped. "Now go and do what I said." Before she could say anymore, turned on his heel and walked away to find Sébastien. What an asshole. Huffing at his bossy retort, Annabelle stomped off in the other direction, towards the fire where the people were gathered. Of course. She should've known it would end like this. Jack and his big headed, egotistic bitchiness would get the best of him. He could never try to help her. He would always be trying to be one step ahead of her, to beat her in everything and be beloved leader over everyone. Sighing in frustration, she swallowed and prepared to make a calming, reassuring, and very false announcement. She hated herself for following Jack's notion, but to keep 24 unsettled teenagers sleeping at night, what other choice did she have?

The traumatized boy widened his baby blue eyes, gaping in dismay at what Jack had just told him.

"So, you don't believe me?" he sputtered crestfallenly. "Jack, I was doing it for you! I was trying to find a pig, so I could be your best hunter! And you won't believe me!"

"I do believe you, man," Jack tried desperately. "We just have to tell the others that what you saw isn't true. It's just the way things have to be."

"Why? Why would you want to keep it from everybody else? I mean, if there's something really dangerous out there, they should know, right?"

"You don't understand." His voice, now frustrated, rose higher. "They're scared right now, because of what you told them. You should've come to me without making a huge scene. Now they're all afraid. And-and they won't come hunting anymore! That's what's important, Bastien, remember?!" There. He had said it. It was true-it wasn't the only reason, but it was the main reason he cared about what the others thought. The scaredy-cats could cry in the corner all they wanted. But he couldn't afford his hunters not coming with him anymore, because of some stupid monster. Of course, Jack was worried too that something could really be in the jungle. He hadn't explored enough to be sure of exactly what kind of animals lived on the island.

Seeing that his attempts to convince Sébastien were futile, a sudden idea came to his head. The only way he was going to be able to keep his mouth shut, was to boost his self-importance up once again. His pride was crushed, and there was one thing Jack could think of that would recover it.

"We are the hunters," he began as animatedly as possible. "We have to protect everyone and keep them safe, because we're the most important ones on this island." Putting one hand on his shoulder, he went on excitedly, "Think about it, Sébastien. We have a duty to make sure that the rest of the people don't get harmed. The hunters are the only ones who can do it, since we know how to use spears and knives. And the only way to do that is for now, to keep this between us. Because we're going to find the monster. And we're going to kill it." Grinning widely, he nudged the startled boy so he toppled off the log he was squatted on. "How does that sound? We're going to KILL the monster! We're brave, we know how to use weapons, so why not? But first, we have to prove ourselves. And we've gotta get meat. We have to hunt a pig, first."

"So-so once we've caught a pig, we can go out and kill the big animal!" Sébastien squealed, shooting up with happiness.

"That's right. So from now on, no more mentioning the monster. Not to anyone, understand? I'll let you know when we can start looking for it." Bobbling up and down with enthusiasm, the boy skipped off while Jack smiled smugly. A job well done. Now Sébastien would be working extra hard, and future hunting trips were ensured. It was a double win. Rather proud of himself, he turned around whistling, to find a girl with matted blonde hair, arms crossed and staring narrow-eyed at him.

"Is that really what Annabelle would want you to do?" Lucy questioned in her irritating, hostile voice.

"Shove off," he growled back, inches away from her face. "If you tell her, or anyone else, you'll regret it."

"Ooh, what are you going to do, yell in my face?" She replied rather coolly. But he could see the girl doing everything in her power not to falter. Smirking, he walked away wordlessly. He didn't even want to bother with Lucy. She and her pesky British ass would be taken care of soon enough. As he strode confidently past the bonfire, a look from Annabelle let him know that her work was finished. No, she wasn't happy about it. He hadn't intended for her to be. This was his time, and he was going to let her know that. Picking a banana casually off a lingering bunch, he took a bite of the sweet fruit with content, and disappeared into the forest. Being the leader of the hunters was tiring work, but the fun had yet to even begin, and Jack was intent on finding those damn pigs soon.

Giggling, Rosaline sat encircled by an evidently closed, gossiping trio of girls. She was in the very center of them all, the crown leader. Of course, even in a plane with 24 people, she would manage to have a band of followers. All the freshmen and sophomores in their school knew her.

Even from this distance, Caitlin could hear what they were saying, as she musingly picked at a mango 20 feet away. She remembered seeing the popular blonde in the hallways, never ceasing to be adored by her classmates, older boys, and even teachers. But something inside Caitlin felt a wave of sympathy for her sister, the tough and defiant Ruby. She knew that the twins were known for their contrasting personas, but she could see that the girl was an outsider, maybe the black sheep of their family. Ruby did have friends, who were all like her, but she just wasn't as loved. Surely, it had to affect her emotionally, regardless of her rugged exterior.

As Caitlin reflected over this, and the circle chatted noisily, Rosaline's eyes suddenly grew wide. "Guys, he's coming, he's coming!" Quickly twirling their hair and crossing their legs casually, the four girls sat composedly as the hunters' commander came strutting past them.

Of course the obnoxious boy would get her attention.

"Hey, Jack," Rosaline called out, waving sweetly.

"Sup." Jack slowed down, but didn't cease walking.

"How was the hunting trip?" She batted her lashes as she spoke, her words dripping like honey. "Did you boys have all your fun?"

"No, actually, not today." He frowned. "We didn't go today. We're trying again tomorrow."

"Oh, well, good luck." Pausing to give a mischievous smile, she added, "If you want, you can come here and have some other fun, too." Unfortunately, Jack either did not take the hint, or didn't hear her: he merely waved behind his back and continued on his way. The minute he was out of earshot, they began whispering rapidly to one another. The other hunters were following the leader, and Caitlin saw an icy flash in Rosaline's eyes as Hazell passed them. It was returned by a razor-edged glare. All of a sudden, Hazell pranced to the front of the line, her caramel ringlets bouncing behind her. Halting in front of Jack, she drew her fingers and said,

"There's something…something in your hair, Jack." As Rosaline's gang watched with slowly dropping mouths, Hazell mussed his blonde hair gently, it shining beneath the rays of sunlight. Making sure to finger through every section of his tresses, she turned her head to smirk triumphantly to the girls.

"Uh, thanks." His face was rightly perplexed, and he and the other boys went back to their hike up the beach. Hazell stood for a moment, basking in pleasure at the girls' seething looks. Then suddenly, all of their expressions turned to a united one of hatred at once. Annabelle, who may be Jack's biggest opponent on the island, was also the girl he paid most attention to. And she was coming their way.

To Caitlin's small amusement, the boy both Hazell and Rosaline had been vying for took notice of the girl, and sneered, probably instinctively. "Hey, Annabelle! Are you still scared of the non-existent monster?" He shouted down. The girl only rolled her eyes at his usual antagonistic remark; Caitlin assumed she was so used to it by now. But the jealous pair who had been foes only seconds before, now shared an equally resentful look in their eyes: two cerulean and two a stunning hazel, as they stared daggers at their third, oblivious competition.

She had only been 7. An innocent, juvenile age. But she could remember every bit of the horror. Torture. Screams. A long, blood-curdling cry that penetrated the night. Each sound was so clear in her ears.

She had only been 7. But she had not been innocent to the corrupt, sinful, wickedness of mankind.

The tall, sinister shadow appeared on the door. It roared, a thundering roar of dissatisfaction, as it kicked the body crumpled next to it. She shut her eyes tight, wrapping her hands around her knees. She winced as another kick was heard, more powerful this time. Her body was glued, paralyzed, to the floor. Clenching tiny fists, she tried so hard to block out the sounds of the monster. A shriek escaped her lips nonetheless, tears bursting out in terror as she watched the body take a blow to its face, the monster throwing a merciless punch. Even from the distance, she could smell the smell of blood, rusty and dizzying.

"GET UP! Get up, I said!" The voice boomed. "Little bitches like you have to learn some manners! Do you hear me?! MOVE your ASS, you dirty, motherfucking whore! MOVE IT!" Countless more words too filthy and violent for the young girl to know came screaming from the master bedroom. She clamped her hands over her ears, never looking as the frail, beaten figure crawled out slowly through the door. It reached up with its arms, even bonier than hers, covered in great purple bruises.

"Joelle," her mother whispered in a hoarse, barely audible voice. Her thin lips, incredibly, pulled up into a weak smile. "My sweet, darling Joelle."

"M-mummy," she breathed, petrified tears pouring out of her eyes. She had seen her mother like this numerous times-sickly and fragile, her hair wild and matted with sweat and grime. She tried to stand, but only fell back on her shaking knees. Her daughter held up her chin in her fingers, trembling. As the woman collapsed, no longer able to stay conscious, the girl heard the thumping on the wooden floor, heavy treads of the monster coming out. She hurriedly lay still next to her mother, closing her eyes and playing dead. Too drunk to notice the uncontrollable trembling of the child, it slumped by with uneven footsteps. Grunting, it stopped. She held her breath. The smell of aged Milwaukee's Best was the last thing she remembered before her father hit punched a blow to her stomach, causing her to black out completely.

Nothing changed. Seasons went by, harsh winters then unspeakable summers. Three years later, and nothing had changed. Her mother lay blue and beaten once more; no more strength left in her body to even sit up consciously. Hearing the coarse, heavy breathing from her as her limbs hung limp over the rag-covered, squeaking wooden bed, Joelle stood. An unrecognizable look crossed her dark eyes: was it fury, or agitation, you couldn't tell. But one thing was for sure-it was no longer terror. She didn't have anything to fear, but to hate. Her innocence, any trace of naiveness that may have been in her as a child was erased. THUMP! The loud noise didn't even faze her as the animal who called himself father fell to his own king-sized bed next door. Probably collapsed after the heroin again. Joelle knew the whole routine. She also knew where the money was kept, as well as the drugs and alcohol. But smashing his stash had only infuriated him more, and he refused to punish anyone but her mother. She needed more. Something more, something worse.

Midnight. The living room clock clanged 12.

He has to feel it, she thought. He had to feel how she felt, feel the torture and the agony inflicted on her mother. The beast would not be able to get away.

Time ticked on. He would soon awaken, and he would be even more savage.

Blank glaze over her eyes, she walked, taking wavering steps. Her legs shook under her weight as they staggered towards the kitchen.

He deserved it. He was killing her mother, killing herself. It wasn't an option to back out now.

She was barely conscious of herself as she picked up the object from the dusted counter.

Don't be afraid now. This had to be done. This had to be done, to save their lives.

Her arm hung over her head like a rag doll, the girl limped back to the lair where the animal slept. Snores and grunts escaped from the looming room, the one she had always been forbidden to enter.

Father. It was a cruel joke. He was no father of hers. He was a cold-blooded killer. A killer who had destroyed their lives.

She crept silently inside, and shortly found herself standing over his intoxicated body, passed out on the bed. Staring down at him once more, she felt for the first time power in her hands, and vulnerability oozing from the monster below her. Hanging over him, she finally had the upper hand. She was finally in the dominant one, the predator instead of the helpless prey. She held his life in her fingertips.

Closing her eyes, she raised her arms, and plunged the glinting knife into his chest.

Even amidst relief, she could not bear the splatter and gushing of blood as her father awoke, gasping in shock and pain. Agonized tears ran down her filth-caked face as she stabbed him again, and once more. On the fourth, his head fell lifelessly to the cotton pillows, red continuing to seep out of the punctured wounds.

Turning around with bloodstained hands, Joelle saw her mother's eyes piercing into her in utter horror.

Gasping, Joelle stirred from her memories in alarm, shooting into an upright position. She hadn't thought about it, the thing she had done 5 years ago, in such a long time. Peace had managed to overcome her, but that night all the dreadful, spine-chilling memories had all returned at once. Why?

A rustling noise from the trees startled her into spinning her head around her. Nothing could be seen in the dark, and the noise didn't return. Nearby, Annabelle and Tessarose slept soundly in their newly finished shelter. Breathing a sigh of relief, she lay back in her soft pile of leaves, pondering to herself. One name appeared in her head: Maurice. He's proven himself already to be so sweet, and caring, she reasoned with herself. There was no reason to not trust him. And also, there was the way she felt about him…the way he made her feel simply by talking to her. She couldn't let her wretched past stand between that. Swallowing with realization, an inkling of a possibility that she may care about Maurice more than as a friend came to her head. Contemplating this, she dozed off into a deep sleep almost instantly.

Two weeks went by for the 24 stranded teenagers: slowly, but it did go by. Annabelle and her hut-builders-mainly Caitlin, Lucy, and some older kids-had finished decent shelters by the 8th day. Everyone at least had a roof over their heads now. Activity was fairly low on the island for the survivors, as they were all trying to take in the fact that they may not be rescued for a long time, even with the signal fire going. But not all the islanders were merely settling into their new environment, meandering through the days thoughtlessly. Some had their own plans.

Ruby had kept to her self-inscribed oath to not join the hunters. Instead, she had been disappearing into the woods on her own daily since their first night. Sharpening a stick to create a spear, making torches out of fire for nighttime, these were all tricks she already knew. Her hidden knife, of course, had been a valuable tool in survival. She could wander freely in the forest in the darkest of the nights, without anyone ever knowing about it. Except for that one time, when Joelle had woken up and nearly caught her in the trees, returning to camp close to twilight. But the girl had simply gone back to bed without a suspicion.

It would have been all over, if Ruby had been spotted that night, for it was the same night she had caught her very first pig. Yes, she had successfully killed a small, but juicy boar, before any of the "hunters" could. Not wanting to risk anything, she took a portion to the signal fire to cook, and discarded the rest of the animal in a hidden part of the forest. It was the best, most mouth-watering bite of pork she had ever tasted, as she sunk her teeth into meat for the first time in a week. Ruby wasn't known for her herbivorous nature, and had longed for some proper protein since she got on the island. Keeping the pig a secret from the others, she continued to hunt. By the 2nd week was over, she managed to kill 3 more, and not a soul had yet to find out.

Jack, on the other hand, was getting more and more frustrated by the day. As he had feared, some of his hunters became too scared to go on the trips daily, and others, like Hazell and Austen, had grown to be very pushy members of the group. The two both inputted plenty of ideas and somewhat forced suggestions, but they couldn't catch a single pig. Until, that is, the 13th day, their lucky day when a mother sow happened to be resting peacefully by the lake. After the mother, a piglet came around, and they succeeded in spearing it as well. Triumphant at last, the hunters, with their leader in the middle, all came marching down the beach gleefully. They gloated about everything they had done, and the honor of catching the first pigs. They had clearly been much influenced by Jack. He started explaining in every little detail, with proud delight, just how they had hunted down the prey. Annabelle tolerated the arrogant speech purely because she was glad they'd found a new food source-the islanders, especially the younger ones, were wiping out the berry bushes and fruit trees at the speed of light. Everyone seemed to be wanting more than their necessary share, and provisions were running out rapidly.

Only Ruby, who gave a little smirk as she watched the boy go on and on, knew that these weren't the first kills on the island.