"The Lord of the Flies grins at me like he was aware of our chaos and divide -- How our system was destructed due the the evil of mankind."

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Tears leave a glistening residue on my cheeks, and drip onto my wrist in a light pitter-patter. I ponder my memories as I study the rose quartz in my hand. It's not smooth, but not rough on its edges either. Now I realize that I can't ever lose this item again. It's precious. The last remnant I have of my good friend.

When the event took place last night, Ralph insisted that we let the ocean take him. At first, I thought it was a sick way to dispose of a body. But now, I envy it, and I'm happy that he's not stuck here. He's free from this hell-hole. Simon doesn't deserve a shallow grave on the same island he was killed on. Jack comes to mind, and I shake with seething hateful energy each time. Technically, I know it was an accident. I can understand it. But- the way that they get so... caught up in killing is getting crazy. They've been losing their minds. The hyperfixation gets so intense that it blinds them to reality. That's not normal, and it's only going to escalate from here if we don't get rescued soon.

Ralph, Eric, Piggy, and I all sit in a row, aimlessly facing the ocean in silence, but me and Ralph are the only ones shedding tears this morning. The image is still clear as day; the frothy tide claiming Simon to it's depths, a place for rest. I screamed, and I sobbed for the innocence we would lose without him. Another crack claims its place on our humanity. Opposing to our demonizing mood, the sky is blue as ever. I almost want to scream at it for being so cheerful at a time like this. How dare it be so happy. It should be equally grieving with us.

Shutting my eyes, a film almost played out in front of my brain; meeting Simon on the plane.

"My name is Simon," he introduced himself. "What's your name?"

"It's Veronica... Sawyer." I added my last name as an afterthought.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Veronica Sawyer." Simon turned back to his drawing. I listened to the faint scratching of his pencil as he etched marks onto paper.

A faint smile crossed my face at the memory.

Details on the sketch were carfully thought out with specific realism and precision that I couldn't fathom how people simply were capable of doing that. The tree had crooked branches that shot out from the trunk, spiraling in random directions and criss-crossed over eachother. Leaves were in different shades of gray since all he had to work with was a simple #2 pencil.

"So, where are you guys headed?" I asked nonchalantly to make small talk. Being someone who hated small talk, I surprised myself. A thoughtful expression painted itself across his face like splashes of watered down ink before answering.

"Well, I'm sure you can tell that we all attend the same boarding school. It's a school trip, so hopefully it's fun!"

Even now, Simon just doesn't strike me as a military school student. I don't even know the reason he was sent there... While he didn't maintain the same builds as Jack and Ralph, nor the drive that would make him fight his way to the top -- he had kindess; A trait that many of the boys lacked so hopelessly. A hiccup jerked my chest, but I sniffled and wiped my face. Still staring out to the abyss of an ocean, I think of another memory while feeling the rose quartz in hand.

I wandered into a small clearing in the woods that was lined with trees after what felt like hours of walking. In reality, I was probably walking for thirty minutes. Sunlight poured in, filling the area. Looking around, seeing different assortments of flowers growing, I came to notice a boy sitting there on a log. It's -- Simon? It seemed as if he were in some sort of trance or zone.

The day I learned about the spot in the forest...

I call out to him softly, trying not to startle the boy. His eyes peak open a bit. Apon noticing me, he jumps.

"Veronica? How did you find this place?" he looked a bit surprised, if not concerned.

"Uhm, I honestly don't know." I admitted helplessly. "I was just walking. I was walking and walking, and I didn't stop." He slowly nodded his head. The little chameleon perched on his shoulder like a teacup atop a little plate.

"This place...it's beautiful," I said, feeling quite astonished that he came across it, yet chose to keep it to himself. He nodded slowly and smiled, scanning over the area with his green-blue eyes.

"I come here whenever I need peace and quiet. It helps me think. It's quite relaxing." Realization fell over me.

"Ohhh, so this is where you go when you're not with Captain Benson," I breathe my words out. He shrugged shyly, and his face flushed.

"I can't blame you." I lowered on to a rock next to him.

Simon and I always had the deeper conversations there, and he was okay with me ranting whenever I wanted. Even then, I tried to avoid trauma dumping. Sometimes, I would cry when the stress that this island plagues me with grew unbearable. He could so effortlessly console me.

"You've come this far, Veronica. Don't give in now," he said softly. I let out a small laugh.

"You're right, Simon. I've always been a dead girl walking whenever I turn around." I lift a cheek, half heartedly smiling at him. Simon let out a chuckle as well. Taking a deep breath, I tried composing myself.

"I could really go for a big bowl of spaghetti, lots of oregano," I muttered, thinking for another moment. Oh-

"And add a cherry slushie." I think about the 7/11 that I had my first job at. Before then, me and JD always had our slushies together on the curb outside of the store. Then the liquorice...

"I could go for some Oreos and milk right about now," Simon hummed. "We couldn't get those at Valley Forge, though." He explained reasonably.

"Whenever I got to go visit my mom, we would sit on our porch with a stereo playing, and eat Oreos. I miss my mom." Simon sighed at the thought.

"But that's all back home. Everything. Everything is back home." The emotions returned unexpectedly, catching me by surprise.

"It's gonna be ok, Veronica. You will get off this island. You'll get back all right. You all will." I took in the weight of his phrase.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. It isn't polite," I whisper gently. He never gave a response. We both jump as we hear the conch being blown. Groaning in unison, we get up and start jogging to the source of the sound.

Who would have thought that my words could be such an unintentional omen? The pad of my thumb started to hurt by the constant rubbing on the stone. Not stopping, I just stared aimlessly while Ralph let out the occasional sob.

After Roger shamelessly killed his chameleon, I spotted Simon few yards away. He was kneeling down, crying softly while cupping the small lizard in his hands as if he were cradling it. I placed a comforting hand on his bony shoulder. I'm not the best at offering condolences, I never have been.

"I'm so sorry, Simon." I murmured. "What he did was messed up." He nodded his head while sniffling, and looked over his shoulder, peering up at me with wet eyes.

"Can we bury him? He needs to be able to rest in peace." Sighing, I swallowed my wit and nodded. "Of course. I'll help you."

I turned to Ralph, utterly drained. His face is puffy from the constant tears. Piggy traced meaningless shapes in the sand, seemingly level-headed.

"What're we gonna do?" The chief groaned, holding his head in his hands. Tears pricked at my eyes like a seething venom that eggs me to break the floodgates open again. However, I resisted the sensation, and bit a sob that boiled in my throat so heavily.

"Piggy..." He attempted to take the attention of the boy who looks for the most part, unbothered. Shock, maybe? "That was Simon." His voice is hoarse.

The simple phrase makes my heart leap. Leaping so it could plummet into my gut with a thud. This whole thing feels like a constant stab, and no matter how much you try to take the knife out, it doesn't pull out gently. So someone else has to take the initiative to rip it out, leaving an open wound that profusely bleeds your energy and stamina.

"What good are you doing in talking about it?" Piggy tries to reason. I try to look at him, but my eyes always get pulled to the huge crack in his glasses. "It was dark, and we were scared," he points out, still managing to stay sensative in his words.

"I wasn't scared," Ralph denied, vigorously shaking his head. A few brown curls tickled his forehead.

"You were scared." The other boy persisted, finally dropping the handful of sand on top of his shapes.

"Both of you were scared. So were you, Eric." Piggy diverted his attention to the unusually silent twin. Eric lifted his head, unveiling bloodshot eyes. After all, his own brother participated in the accidental murder of our friend and his classmate. Guilt undeservedly picked at him in a feverish reign.

"You guys..." Piggy slowly starts, facing us once more. "Anything could've happened." Ralph ignored the words, and gazes back out to the ocean. In a spontaneous yearn for comfort, I relaxed my head onto his trembling shoulder, and he leaned into me with equal need.

"It wasn't our fault." Eric stated softly, dropping his own words in. "It was!" The chief snapped in a burst of frustration. We all flinched back.

"We were all there, on the other side, and we didn't do anything about it."

Well, I tried, but you held me back. I shot a knowing look at Ralph to get my thought across without accusing, but he never caught on.

"There's nothing we could do, there was too many of them!" Piggy explained practically. He may have been right, but I wanted nothing more than to stuff that sand in his mouth to shut him up. I understand he wasn't that close with Simon, but this loss hurts a lot more than Hell does. The attempt at calming us down was appreciated, but daringly aggravating.

"That's not the point!" I sobbed, covering my face. Piggy bit back his words, and sadness finally crossed his red face. "It was an accident," Eric mumbled. "That's what it was... A horrible accident."

"Anything could've happened," repeats Piggy like a broken record. Ralph and I both continued the mourning period as the images of my late friend picked away. The way the surrounding area of his body was a chaotic mess of splattered blood and fleshy debris. The silence that had followed after- accompanied by the dripping of tears and blood, a morbid cadence that echoed through stillness. 

As if the situation couldn't be more unbearable, two hunters walked around the corner of a fallen tree. And joy of joys, it's Tony and Sam. I'm starting to think that Sam purposely volunteers himself to speak with Ralph only so he can see Eric. If they hated each other so much, then Sam would have avoided any interaction with us at all costs.

The chief, of now only a few people, looks surprised -- even a bit hopeful. At this point, I don't at all reckon that they were here to apologize or even join our side again. And as per usual, I'm right.

Sam crossed his arms, not in challenge or defense, but in... embarrassment? Almost like he was sinking back into his shell, and he somewhat stood behind Tony to hide his face. On developed instinct, I go to see Eric's facial expression. He looked drained, not up for a fight one bit. In this moment, for the first time in what feels like forever, the twins can be standing within a ten foot radius of each other and actually stay civil.

"Hi," the painted twin silently greeted. He almost had to cough it out to even force himself to speak to us after the event. "Hi," Piggy answered for us all flatly. Both hunters, carrying some guilt, keep their focus on the ground, avoiding to look at the clearly grieving folks. Hell, it was even hard for me to look at them.

"We came to see if you guys have any fire," Tony admitted through a cracking voice. His tone became all the more brassy after a long night of constant yelling and chanting. "Ours is out," Sam spoke up, catching my weak focus. "Everything is out, on account of the storm."

Swallowing the hurt in my throat, I briskly looked at Ralph for his answer to them. Even he appeared all too broken to process or even think clearly. Both hunters shifted uncomfortably under our grinding stares, and not even three seconds later, they tried to hurry off after breaking under pressure.

"We gotta get back," Sam strained under his breath, still keeping his arms crossed. On a unified cue, they started walking away. I wasn't planning on stopping them, and I don't reckon that they thought so either. Defying all odds, Ralph mustered up the will to call them both back.

"Hold on a minute."

The two boys snapped their heads to us into what's possibly some sort of fear. Maybe they just knew what conversation was about to come up after they'd been scraping to avoid it this whole time.

"I wanna talk to you about last night."

The icy ball was dropped, and the words hang heavily in the air like wet paint... Dripping in the silent anticipation.

"Raaalph..." Piggy moaned in what was almost disappointment in the boy for bringing the situation up. Despite that, both of the hunters persona's changed drastically, their stances showing much more discomfort than before. I find myself feeling bad for them.

"We left early," Sam stammered his lie. I know it's a lie, because he's in my memory. There's me, crying over a body of mutilated flesh while he stands, frozen in time from enduring so much shock at once.

"Umm, we were real tired," Tony unconvincingly added, then gulping his shame. Eric mumbled something like 'whatever.' Ralph blinked rapidly for a moment. Without a word, the hunters awkwardly shuffled back a few steps, and walked away simply, fully understanding they wouldn't get fire from us right now. If any of the other hunters were here, they'd probably use force to take what they wanted. But in their understanding and seen empathy, the two left without a fuss. I'm grateful for that. Eric's head drooped into his hands once more so he can spiral into some of his own contemplation.

"Ralph?" I asked softly. "Are you sure we didn't die in that plane crash?" The boy looked at me, perplexed, making me lower my head.

"What are you talking about?"

"Are we already dead?" Even if he took it as a joke, I was seriously questioning myself if I took it as so too. "Like... is this just Hell?"

He cracked a small half smile. "If so, we'd be in purgatory. And you can't die twice, so Simon would still be here."

Simon.

Maybe Ralph was right, or maybe dying was just the way to make it out of purgatory. Maybe dying in the realm was the way to fully cross over to the true afterlife.

I clutched my rose quartz a bit tighter. Who is there to talk to when things get rough? Who is there to provide kindness to all, even Jack's tribe?

"I'm going for a walk," I announced promptly, and rise up with a huff. Clearing my head is the best thing I can really do for myself anymore.

"Don't be gone too long," Ralph mumbles his response. Forcing a smile, I give one small salute before retreating into the jungle.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

When I decided I was going to go for a walk, I guess I really meant I wanted to sit in solace in a place that I'm always calm in. No offense, but the gloomy atmosphere with the others only edged the sadness back. So to this spot in the forest I go. Simon's spot.

It was always like a hug of green and brown, carpeted by moist moss, taking on a seaweed color after the shower of rain. A shelter of branches extended, crooked tree limbs protect me from the sun.

Walking into the area, a heavier weight seemed to plague the clearing. An unfamiliar sensation. Everything looked the same, but the feeling was off, like forcing a piece of a puzzle into a place that it didn't belong. Or like wearing a shoe on the wrong foot. Butterflies weren't here to dance in the buttery sunshine. Song birds no longer frolicked like it was the last safe haven on this Hell disguised as paradise. Huge rays of light spilled in the clearing, but they aren't filling up the negative ambiance which I'm not accustomed to here.

Bark was still torn away from some trees as a result of long past storms. I tilted my head back, searching for something of familiarity. Twinkles of light illuminated my features, and caught the tears dripping off the edge of my jawline, which sharpened considerably during my time on the island due to the lack of nutrition.

My feet sunk into the stretch of vibrant grass that greeted me, but the steps weren't as light as usual. Buzzing my lips, I called out "Simon?"

By some crazy coincidence, the breeze picked up, and the warm feeling which this spot used to own flashed on like a switch until the breeze ended, and the atmosphere marinates in heaviness. Stupid girl, it's all in your head. I rose back up to my feet when a movement caught my eyes. My footsteps gravitated towards it absentmindedly, now on autopilot.

Perched on the lower branch of a tree, was a small chameleon. A feeling in my gut unfurled and I forcefully tore myself away from the familiar sight. With a freeing exhale, I fell back into a mattress of grass which cushioned my fall, resting along the hues of the amber-green foliage.

Laying alone in my isolation, I wept. Weeping out the deepest sorrow that life could throw at me. I weep for Heather, for JD, for Simon... Life's darkness wants to pull me to a place where joy is scarce, or an impossibility, if you will. With great sharp claws, it drags me through the muck of guilt. Being as familiar as I am with death, it is clear to all that death is not an exquisite subject. It's not something that you can effortlessly muse over at the dinner table. Some people avoid it as best they can. If there is an afterlife by some mere miracle, Simon is surely there. If there isn't an afterlife, then the coldness of death claimed him in the worst way possible.

Desperately pushing away the grotesque details of the gruesome event, I let my mind drift across the great sea of memories, of life, of time... My mind is begging to be free of this violent plague.

"You know, lots of people think that butterflies symbolize hope and endurance." Simon explained. Of course, my mother had told me that. When my aunt died, we always associated her with butterflies. For a Christmas one year, I bought my mother a wind chime with metal butterflies dangling from it. She cried when receiving the gift.

"Others think they symbolize freedom." I added. Simon picked up a small stone, feeling it's ridges. "I feel really free here," he said.

I chuckled knowingly and respond, "Maybe we're a bit too free here," subtly addressing the ordeal with Jack. We both start strolling through the jungle-forest and approach the rocky cliff that Jack and I had discovered long before.

A gust of wind bursts over to fan our faces. The sensation made me want to cry in an odd way, just out of stress

Now, all I want to do is cry. Great heaving sobs that will wrack my core with waves of aftershock. I'm done with everything. Staring up at the blue abyss where the sun hangs like a prop, an instinct picks away at me, and I follow suit. My hand holds the rose quartz out in front of my face, and as I moved it across my line of vision, the stone eclipses over the bright eye staring down at us which keeps Earth going. And for a split moment, I can almost see Simon in the harsh glare of light as the quartz swims through the endless blue above me. He's smiling while walking that thin line between the clouds and outerspace. No blood, and unwounded.

A smile painted across my cherry lips while tears flourished down my rosy cheeks, caught by light and semi-illuminated the wet trails. I clutched the rose quartz in my palm, and held it close to my heart. Tears trickle down my cheekbones and directly to my ears, being pulled by gravity as I laid flat on my back.

A breath exhaled through my parted lips, steady and controlled. I mumbled under my breath, mother's favorite song. The song we always sang together on an average day.

"When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother what will I be?
Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me..."

I had to chuckle at the stupid fucking irony. Mother always said I would grow up and go to my dream college, and I'd succeed in all my dreams. Never did I expect this.

"Que será, será
Whatever will be, will be.
The future's not ours to see
Que será, será
What will be, will be."

The only disruption that broke my tranquility -- no, not break -- paused the tranquility made me sit up and look to the new pair of footsteps coming hesitantly my way. I actually half expected to see Simon, but it was only Eric. He had a solemn but curious expression. Recovering from the small startle, I cleared my throat to greet him.

"Hi."

"Uh- hey..." He grunted slowly, stopping in his spot. Catching on, I soften my confused expression that he probably had mistaken for anger, when it wasn't at all so. I wiped away my tears and stood up, inviting him to sit in the rocks with me. He watched me cautiously for a moment, but finally had a seat.

"I just- saw you go this direction, and- Piggy was kinda annoying me, so..." The wind picked up and carried his words away, but I nodded in understanding.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything," he addressed my recent state of laying on my back, crying while staring at the clouds. Setting the rose quartz on my lap, I cleared my throat for a second time before answering.

"You weren't interrupting me."

Moments like these really make it clear how much this Island has affected us all. Sam and Eric, twins who used to be so full of energy and spunk are now departed, and being squished by a certain weariness that hangs above them both. Eric has become so drained.

His bright, smiling face has dulled significantly, and dark circles bloomed under his eyes. I remembered that we used to call them "Samneric" like one entity because of the way they'd sometimes speak and grin in unison. They were always connected by the hip and blabbering over each other. What even happened?

Part of the reason they were called Samneric, is because their parents always used the smoothly spoken nickname. Even in school, their classmates and teachers would address them by it, so it still carried here on the island.

I loudly sniffled as a last-ditch attempt to clear the painful silence, but it only made the awkwardness thicken up as he stood anxiously, seemingly unsure of himself.

"You can come sit," I finally blurt, nodding to the blank spot next to me. Simon's spot. A look of surprise lit up his dull face, but he did shuffle forward to take a seat, though not too close.

"How've you been, Eric?"

"I wanna go home." He folded his knees to his chest. Clasping my two hands together, I nodded in earnest agreement.

"I know. We'll get rescued soon, don't worry."

"I sure hope so," he answered. A pause followed as his face tensed up like he was trying to cobble together some composure, and to also hide the tremble that vibrated in his words.

"Sam was there when Simon..."

I didn't have to be a genius to know what he's referring to.

"Yeah, I know." My eyes peered down at my pink stone. "He's probably really torn up about it," I add quickly. "You guys were friends with him, right?"

He shrugged in thought. "I guess, but Simon usually kept to himself in school. After we crashed, he only talked to you and Ralph for the most part."

This was true. Simon did interact with Piggy on occasion, or the little ones when he'd get them fruits while 'babysitting'.

"But also, someone literally died last night, Veronica." Eric emphasized seriously, widening his eyes like he was about to cry. "In front of all of us."

That alone is enough to tear someone up, even if they weren't that close.

I coiled my arms around my stomach when the scene replays in my head. The metallic sent left an imprint in my nostrils that I can't seem to rid.

"Gosh..." The twin groans while pressing a fist to his lips. He was clearly also replaying that memory. "There was so much... blood." There's an audible gag in his words like it repulsed him. Eric's lip took on a faint quiver as he fought off his emotions. Paleness clouds his cheeks like he's seen a ghost. To distract him from his own mind, I pull the easiest conversation I can.

"You know, me and Simon always came to this exact spot."

He looked up at me quickly and the paleness flushes away. "Really?" I nodded, lifting a cheek. "Yup. Me and him would just sit and talk here for hours. It's beautiful, huh?"

Taking quick gander at the place, Eric agreed and smiles softly. Relieved to know that his mood increased a bit for the better, I could relax as well.

"What was it like?" He asked curiously. "Getting to know him, n' all?" It all comes back like it did before. Boarding the plane, landing here, finding this spot, watching Captain Benson. He was more wise than I could ever be.

"Eric, I can easily tell you that Simon was the kindest, most intelligent person I've met in all 18 years of living."

His eyebrows raised, like it surprised him. Most of the students assumed he was always aloof, crazy of sorts. That's how lots of boys are. Not going to lie, girls can think the same way. It's just the way humanity bats its eye towards certain things. Eric hums in thought for a second.

"I just wish I could have gotten to know him better, you know? While he was still here."

I only nodded, not wanting to interrupt the sprouting words.

"It's just weird. Cuz, like- he's always been there, in the background, and now he's just... gone." The twin looked at his hands, then his clothes. Everyone's clothes have become so tattered and stained by dirt. Now for some, they're stained by blood.

"I understand," I replied thoughtfully, wishing I could think of a deep response like Simon. "How are you feeling?" These are kids, and they all had to witness something so bloodcurdling, so... traumatizing. I'm no therapist, but bringing their emotions into account is essential. He buzzed his lips, as if unraveling that question to answer it took the same amount of drive as skydiving.

"I don't know," Eric answered truthfully. "I just wanted to talk to someone about anything else." A heavy sigh huffed from his chest.

"Ralph and Piggy just aren't the people to talk to right now." I say in agreement with him. 

Humans are incredibly sociable beings, whether we want to admit it or not. Not everyone likes communicating through words due to shyness, anxiety, or reasons beyond that. Either way, we always find was to interact with others through other forms of communication. We just don't realize it.

"Ralph's a wreck right now," I stated with a nod. I only meant to point the fact out- I can't judge someone for grieving. "Then again, so am I," I added, a small laugh emits through the heck of it all.

"Maybe you are," He started, trying to force a chuckle. "But you seem like you know how to handle it?"

I pursed my lips to consider a response. "Well, yeah. I'm kinda used to this sort of thing, as bad as it sounds. I had to handle my emotions elsewhere without any influence."

Eric leaned back a bit, almost nervous. "Am I influencing anything right now?"

I shook my head vigorously and back track. "No, of course not," I chuckle. 

"It was just getting kinda emotion-heavy over there, and I wanted to just let mine out in another place." I finalized my statement there to keep from over-spilling. He eyed me another moment before relenting.

Before my next question, I think about its impact tediously. Whatever, it's necessary. "Well... is Sam okay?"

About ten emotions lingered on his face to an expression that is unreadable. Finally, upon noticing my seriousness, it prompted him to chuckle.

"You do realize that he was in that crowd, right? Did you forget?"

For me, it even felt like a punch to the gut to hear that. I'm not sure why because it wasn't a direct attack at me. Bitterness was laced in his tone, like he wouldn't be letting this go by so easily.

"No, yeah, I understand," I stuttered out, sounding more bewildered than intended. "It's just that, I dunno, maybe he was super caught up."

"Why are you defending him for murder?" Eric cuts me off, scowling. In the awkwardness, I clutch my rose quartz.

"I'm not defending it at all. I think it's Roger and Jack who are more to blame," I said truthfully. To help the twin further understand, I explained my thought process.

"Jack and Roger are the ones who led them. And even if they knew it was Simon all along, Sam didn't know."

The despise in Eric's eyes soften down to a smoke but he continues to stare at me incredulously. "That's true, I guess," he shrugs. "I wish me and him were still friends sometimes."

He stops again, hesitating like he was debating a thought. "I miss Sam."

I frowned a bit. They don't even remember what the initial fight was about. "Why don't you apologize for your doing, and he can apologize for himself. He's clearly not gonna take the initiative, so you can be the bigger person."

Eric acted like I requested him to do the impossible, and his head just snaps side to side. "Why should I apologize to him? He's a dork and he's mean."

Raising a brow, I gave him a look as if to say, 'C'mon now...'

"You guys are both in the wrong," I insisted, not waiting to see how he'd feel about the daringly risky statement. "Sam has probably been the more intense one in the situation, but you both are making such personal attacks that neither of you are in the right at this point."

The twin took it better than I first assumed, like it somewhat got through to him. "I guess. But he's with the hunters now, he doesn't need me."

I nudged his arm a bit, trying to get him a bit more hyped up. "Sure he does! And do you wanna know what I think?"

He peered to meet my eyes, looking annoyed but intrigued. "What is it?"

"Haven't you noticed him always coming over here when Jack wants to send a message? Why do you think that is?"

Eric scrunched his face, and his eyes dance around towards the sky before answering. "I think it's cuz he wants to be a dork and pick fights."

This prompted me to chuckle and shake my head. "No, silly. Someone who really hates you isn't gonna put that much effort into starting a single argument." I reasoned logically. He cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"I think that it's just his excuse of still checking on you, to make sure you're okay and all."

"Shit. I didn't realize that him beating me up was a way to check on me," He replied sarcastically while rolling his eyes. My small smile fell.

"You're right," I nodded to show I understood. "But, I think he's starting to get tired of this whole fight, and I think you are too, but you don't want to admit it."

Looking offended that he was called out, he finally calmed down so he could take my words into consideration with out agreeing with me upfront.

"I don't think he'll ever talk to me now. Roger doesn't like me." Eric buzzed somberly. "He says stuff to Sam about me to make sure my brother keeps hating me."

My jaw clenched angrily at the mention of Roger, but I keep my face clear of any malice emotions.

"And even though me and my brother are like- hating each other right now, I still get worried."

Eric turns to look at me seriously. "Roger is kinda a douche. He'll slap the hunters around for fun and hurt them. He couldn't get away with that sort of 'abuse' at the academy."

The boy frowns and turns back away from me. Still, my eyes were glued to him. More serious now as I felt an anxious rumble of concern dwelling in my bones.

"You're worried that he's hurt Sam." I finish for him. "Or that he will soon."

Eric nods wordlessly. I purse my lips in thought and drum my fingernails against the stone. I'm sure that the twins would've most definitely made up but now if it weren't for the interference of Roger.

"Also," he spoke up quietly. "I know it was Roger who did the glass thing." His words delivered low. They were even hard to hear in this muted area. I blinked at him, trying to muster up some response.

"I kinda caught on after a while," he explained, wavering side to side. "Roger's a... I don't know." The twin drooped his shoulders in defeat. "I just wanna talk to Sam again. Roger will make sure that it never happens."

I breathed out a sigh I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. This whole situation made my skin crawl. What kick does Roger get out of this? It's creepy that he would out of the blue take on such an unearned 'Big brother' stance for Sam. There's certainly some motive. In hindsight, he shouldn't have a definitive interest in filling that void. It's just so... so random. Why the twins?

"Just talk to Sam, Eric," I say flatly. "As for Roger, I'll handle it."

To say he looked surprised would be an understatement.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll handle it. I'll figure something out."

A breeze picked up to rush by us, and I welcomed it with open arms.

"Soooo... what do I do?" Eric asked.

I turned to face him more before explaining. "Just- next time you see him, tell him you're sorry and it'll all sprout from there." I paused to think, then adding in an afterthought. "I mean, I dunno when that next time will be, but take a chance if you get one."

"Okay," he agreed, slowly nodding. "Yeah, okay. But if he ends up yelling at me, I'm done trying." I grin and pat the top of his hand. This whole conversation was a good distraction from the earlier chaos. Of course, we'd all have the residual sadness -- it's expected, but we have to cope instead of letting grief kill us.

"I don't think he'll let me talk if I just come up to him, though," he buzzed his lips in semi defeat. A thought clicks in my head, a risky one.

"I'll figure something out," I showed a soft smile.

"Thanks," he chipped simply, and hopped up from the rock. Not quite ready to leave, I folded my legs up and wave him off. "One more thing." He turned around to add.

"Veronica, I'm sorry about Simon." Saying nothing else, he turns around and walks out of the clearing, leaving me stunned. In my state, I laid back to look at the sky, rubbing the quartz in my hand.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Curiosity is what killed the cat, that's what they always say. Well, it's time for me to put that phrase to the test for upfront judgment. Let's face it head on; the cave. The cave that peeled Simon from life's clutches, leading him to his early fate. While I do dread it, it's still the closure I need.

What can almost be described as a magnetic pull moved my feet to the cave. The rose quartz was safe in my pocket, and I recounted numbers in my head with every step.

The mouth of the dark cave imprinted itself against a decently sized hill, like a gaping cavity that you can't see inside of. However, on the foot of the hill stood the pig head on a stick. Only a day later and the stench forced itself inside every small molecule in the air. It's thicker now and wafts inside my nostrils. I stared up at it in shock and awe, repulsion gurgling in the vat of acid in my stomach.

His dead eyes resembled black marbles, yet to be eaten up by the gorged flies coating the rotting skin. He stared at me, throwing my mind into a trance. And for a slight moment -- I want to go insane.

An other-worldly experience falls around me as the surrounding scenery darkens to an abyss, leaving me and the head alone. Maybe it's a trick of the mind, or some crazy hallucination, but the face miraculously twitches, disturbing the flies only temporarily before they continue to crawl in and out the mazes of decomposing holes that scatter its skin.

I flinched harder when the pink tongue that hung limply slithered itself back into the pigs mouth, and the face became all the more animated -- unusually animated for a corpse nonetheless. For some reason, I'm no where near prompted terrified, nor confused in the slightest. Instead, I observed the pig's actions like they were normal.

This thing is only meant to be a gift for darkness, nothing more. I licked my dry lips and squeezed my eyes shut. Opening again, unveiled the head now amusedly grinning, unfazed by the flies and spilled guts that had dumped like paste on the ground.

Even with the new black abyss, grey silhouettes of the real world show as visible against the black backdrop. The heat is still tormenting, and the back of my shirt clings to my skin. All birds fall silent, likely deserting the area where this obscene carcass grins and drips. My head cocked to the side at it, almost in question. The flies, still buzzing like a saw, danced back and forth on both of my arms, and played leapfrog on my sweating forehead. They're black and iridescent green, tickling my nose.

Unlike my typical self, I don't make a movement to swat them away, still in a daze by the head. A pulse began beating in my right temple as the Lord of the Flies hangs on his stick with a stretching smile.

"What are you?" I think outloud without realizing. An invisible gust of hot wind breaks through the faux black walls that surround me, and whizzed through us both.

"Hello, little one." The Lord of the Flies spoke in mock solemn, not answering my spoken question. My mouth hangs open in a relaxed state, entranced by the talking head. It's a hallucination! It's a hallucination!

"What a silly little girl!" He cackled in a throaty chortle, blood spittling from his lips in a foam. His chin turned slightly downwards, creaking the stick which he sat upon.

"You're just an ignorant, silly little girl. Aren't you, Veronica?"

I blinked wordlessly, not able to provide any answers to the probing questions. 

"Don't you agree?" The Lord of the Flies egged on in a taunting ring.

I answered in my stubborn silence.

"Well then," said the Lord of the Flies in an ultimatum. "You'd better run off to Ralph, Jack, Piggy and the others. You like Jack a lot, don't you?" A fleshy part of his skin arched like an eyebrow.

My eyes didn't break away from the head, and my chin tilted up in what may have been challenge or something of that matter. I sniffled as he laughed again.

"What're you doing out here all alone? Are you afraid of me yet? Aren't you afraid after what happened to precious ole Simon?"

I shook my head in disgust, scowling at either the putrid smell or his vile sayings.

"A pig's head on a stick..." My words spat out bitterly, hardly audible to even myself, but perfect in volume to the Lord of the Flies. Veronica! It's a hallucination, snap out of it!

"There isn't anyone here to help you. You're not gonna be saved anytime soon," he stated confidently, trying to rock back and forth.

"There's only me. And I'm the beast, the bitch, Veronica. I'm your monster!"

A tremble shocks through me. And Jack wanted to kill such a thing...

"Fancy thinking that the monster was something that you all could just hunt and kill!" Screeched the rotting head. In an echo, entities from the abyss parodied in their nasty laughter. I heard Jason Dean, Heather Chandler...

"Simon told you, didn't he?" The thing guessed. "I'm a part of you. Close, close, close!"

The rose quartz appeared in my right palm, and the laughter echoed louder from dimly lit corners that I couldn't pinpoint.

"I'm the reason it's all no-go! I'm the reason that things are the way they are!" He cackled again, making me stumble back from its wave of power, but I didn't pay the little hiccup any mind.

The Lord of the Flies leaned forward, and the stick creaked and whined as it bent in a strained arch. The radiating stench approached me with the grinning head as we looked at each other, eye to eye.

"Go on, get back to the others and forget about the cave, you stupid girl!"

My jaw clenched in subtle reaction to the smell, and my chin lifted again in some maintained dignity. His face contorted to a sort of scowl by my challenging silence.

"I'm warning you," he drawled slowly. 

"Turn back now, or you'll only meet me down there in the end-- understand?" The Lord of the Flies retreated back a bit to tower above me once more. My eyes followed him up aimlessly. This made something in him snap.

"Do you want to end up in a ditch? Leave!"

By the last word, everything stopped, and the abyss sank into the ground like a fallen curtain, and the animation of the carcass vanished fully. Only an echo of his word remained in my ears. I stared at the still head in contemplation after what just took place.

God, I'm really losing it now, I thought, forcing a smile and shaking my head. Really? A talking pig head? Eventually I'll be loony enough for Jack's tribe, God forbid. Get your head on straight.

I peered around a few times to only see a perfectly normal world, thankfully. I take one more glance to the pig's head. He hangs without any proof of recent movement. Chuckling again at the crazy episode, I continued my trek on up the grassy incline towards the deep cave. Even with how out-of-this-world my hallucination was, the rose quartz did still end up in my hand, but I hastily stuffed in back in my pocket. Stupid things, unimportant details.

Before long, I'm creeping up to the rocky entrance. The sun provided a bit of light to shine a bit of the way, but not enough to see clearly. A few bats flapped frantically at my entrance, and only half startle me. They squealed, and darted into the darkness ahead. Out of curiousity, I start to follow them, but trip over a soft mass that was placed on the ground.

I catch myself before landing a hard blow, and I turned to view the source of my fall... It all made sense now. The truth has prevailed.

Just barley in the faint light, I stared at the corpse of Captain Benson -- practically naked with a spear protruding from an entrance wound in his abdomen. His mouth and eyes are wide open, frozen in a petrified expression that must've formed on the man's face right before his demise. A fist snapped up to my lips to hold back any rising bile. All along, he's been here, decomposing with bats and bugs.

"Fuck..." I shuddered, staring at the body. Greg must've walked in and gotten himself spooked by a deranged Captain Benson without seeing his figure clearly. So that means this old man might have been hiding here way before all of this! Greg was the one who stabbed him blindly through plain fear. He's a child, still ignorant. The 'growl' that Jack and Roger heard was probably just the gasping of Benson during his final breaths. Sounds carry easily in this quiet cave-- easy enough to be heard by two curious boys in search of a crazy phenomenon.

Here's their fucking monster. My shock melted away and was replaced by anger. This is what Simon had to fucking die for? This is what sent the boys further off their rocker? For God's sake! A scowl pinched at my nose and lips as I stared at the frozen expression. He's overly pale with purple tinged lips, and crooked veins pop up more visibly against his almost transparent skin. I would close his eyes, but he's been dead for too long, and his frozen limbs that are staying in place prove that even more. Reaching down, I hovered an open hand above his still chest -- the coldness practically radiated from him.

Simon was trying to tell them all! He tried to explain and no one even noticed it was him in their craze! This explains the small phrases I heard that said -- 'Just Captain Benson!' during the riot. Well, here's the stupid closure.

I need to make sure no one else dies. If the real monster is just us -- like Simon told me -- then Ralph and I have to stand up to stop this crap. Locking eyes with the dead, grey ones, I finally tore away from the shell of a man. Now comes the question if I even tell Ralph or the others. Well, I'll need to tell Jack so they can snap out of this complex they're living in. Actually, he'd never believe me unless he saw the dead body. I could easily bring him over.

"Sorry, Benson," I muttered lowly, refusing to touch him. Tonight, we'll go to Jack's next stupid feast, and I'll explain everything while the twins work things out. And if Jack turns a blind eye to my explanation, I'll lead him to the body myself. We have to all work together again... we just have to.

I began hobbling over the rocky floor of the cave back to the mouth where I came in, trying to ignore the glowing eyes of bats that occupied the ceiling. The way they looked when they cocooned themselves in their wings gave me the heebie-jeebies.

I reached the outside again, half expecting to be greeted by fresh air, but I'm hit even harder with a scent of death. How could I forget about the pig head? Nice. Death inside and outside the cave. Rounding the corner, I feel my heart drop as I meet the two dark bullets for eyes.

"Roger..."

"Sawyer," the tall teen greeted me curtly, though his thoughts weren't anywhere near innocent as proved by a malicious look on his face.

"What are you doing out here?" I breathed. He flashes a questionable look.

"What are you doing near the cave?" My question was dodged. I glanced back, but not long enough to take my eyes off him more than needed.

"I'm just taking a walk." My words stayed cautious. He hummed in response, holding the iron gaze. I think about the twins, and what I told Eric. Seeing Roger looming tall so constantly and at ease made me silently seethe. God, he's a fucker.

"Roger," I assert firmly. "I don't know what you think you're doing with the twins, but you need to back off. Leave. Them. Alone."

Unsurprisingly, Roger leaned back and chuckled boisterously, as if to mock my supposed 'threat.'

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sawyer," he sauntered close to me. I take a step back.

"They're just kids," I said. "Whatever you're saying to Sam, cut it out. I don't know why their argument interests you."

Roger continued to progress forward as I only moved further back.

"Why should I?" His head innocently cocked to the side. "After all, I don't know why it interests you."

I feel my back hit a wall of rock as we were near the side of the cave. Roger stepped up to me, only two inches of air separating us. The hornet's nest in my chest began to vibrate wildly again.

"Are you sure you didn't just need a moment alone with me?" He daringly pressed, a wolf-like grin spreading across his lips. I swallowed my fear and pressed back against the wall to create more distance as he persisted to stare long and hard at my face.

"Roger," I rasped as the desperation to get away rose steadily. "Please, just don't hurt Sam." The hot pressure in my chest continued to build. Too hot, too hot, too hot-

"Maybe give me some motivation first." I'm suddenly pressed between his body and the wall of rock. His head bowed closer to my face. Panic alarms were now blaring in my ears, making my breathing practically heave in and out.

"Please," I choked, turning my face away from his, off to the side. "Don't- please." My eyes squeeze shut when I feel his cold breath brush the corner of my mouth.

"Roger. Please, stop." My words were high and vulnerable. There's no one nearby, we're so far out. Tears burned my eyes as I prepared to feel his rough touch, but my eyes snap open in surprise as I feel his frame back up.

He's laughing hard. Demeaning as ever. My breaths continued to harshly force out as I turned my head, peaking at the distance between us. Assessing that he was only trying to scare me, I hesitantly allow myself to relax. It's then that I realized how hard my hands were quaking, incredibly visible to him.

"You're quite the entertainer," he drawled mockingly, crossing his arms in amusement. My teeth grit the second before I exploded out, shoving him roughly in the chest. How dare he take advantage of my state? Who does he think he is, dangling what was left of my dignity over my head? Only to scare me?

"I'm serious, Roger." I snarled. We stare at each other. Pure hatred, tangible.

"Stay. Away. From Sam. Leave the kids alone." I said in a warning tone. "Whatever you're trying to accomplish... leave them out of it."

He smirked and let out an unimpressed scoff. 

"Get out of here, princess." Roger nodded his head in the direction of my camp. My chest continued to heave as I looked him hard in the eye, waiting for something else to happen.

There was nothing. He just stared at me with the same relaxed, simpering expression, like he knew something I didn't. My command hasn't gone through to him. He hasn't taken me seriously.

"I'm serious. Run back to your camp before I regret letting you off easy, Sawyer."

Realizing what I was being granted, I exhaled sharply and booked it out of there, not looking back. I needed to find Ralph to share what I found in the cave, and leave out the part of the story that contained this little road block called Roger.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Disgusting shivers crawled down my back like roaches while I replayed the tape in my mind of Roger's body against mine. The enthralled expression on his face growing as he gained a rise out of my fear. It sickened me to no end.

I don't trust him. Never have, never will. Even more so - I don't trust the hunters to keep to themselves anymore. The accident with Simon happened too easily, it could happen again without my side's notice. They need supervision - the older teens do, like children. It's pathetic as it is frightening.

Sam and Eric need to heal their strain, and I don't trust that either of them can be safe with Roger around. If they're going to interact anymore, someone needs to keep tabs on them.

My feet sunk into the sand with each step as I made my way across the beach, filling my shoes with itchy discomfort.

"Ralph?" I approached my friend who thankfully now seemed a bit more collected. There's a bit of residual redness from crying, but that would stick around for a while. "Hey," he answered softly. I tangled my fingers together before making my risky proposition.

"It's gonna sound weird, but... I think we should go back to Jack's next feast tonight." A veil of ice takes its hold over him suddenly. 

"Why...? After what happened?"

Swallowing hard, I shoved a strand of hair behind my ear. "I think Eric and Sam should get a chance to talk, because if they actually make up, things could start to turn around."

Ralph started shaking his head like I anticipated. "No, no, no..." He trailed off, shutting his eyes tightly and rubbing his temples, like it was a load of energy to process my statement. 

"They can just talk another time."

"Ralph, you know they won't talk unless they're put in the same place." I reason realistically. His face still scrunched up like he was getting ready to protest.

"And... I don't like the idea of them having a feast after what happened. I think we should go to just... monitor them." That idea seemed to poke him in the way I hoped.

"Sooo, we babysit them?" He raised a brow. I chuckled and nodded matter of factly. "I mean, it's bad, but yeah. Pretty much."

If we cannot manage to keep a tribe together, we might as well insure that no one else dies to maintain some form of stability. At least until we get rescued.

"Are you sure you really wanna go over there?" He egged on, waving a hand for emphasise. "Cuz I'm not sure that I do."

Simon is dead, but I don't want a hunter to die. If the twins at least make up, we can start from there and maybe Sam could somehow message our thoughts back and fourth between tribes, and maybe we can form a bar of peace.

"I wanna go." I insisted. "I wanna make a point to them that we're better than that. I'm doing this for Simon." With a quivering breath, he exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face. My heart felt somewhat heavy with everything, but I needed to muster up some courage to face those savages.

"We'll go later," he reluctantly agreed, and I smiled, feeling accomplished.

"We're what??" Piggy barged in, looking at me in disbelief. I blinked rapidly. 

"Are we seriously going over there after what happened?"

"Yes, Piggy," I lulled calmly as if to reason. "We need to show them that we aren't going to cower for their mistakes. We need to be the ones who make sure nothing else happens."

He crossed his chubby arms over his chest with a distasteful expression. In this bath of heat, our hair was practically plastered to our foreheads. 

"I don't see why we should..." He mumbled miserably. Pursing my lips, I chose to drop the discovery into conversation.

"Guys... I found Captain Benson." They pause, matching faces of confusion. 

"What do you mean by you found him?" Ralph blurted, stepping forward.

I sighed in response. "Well, he's dead." The brunette stiffened up, but his lack of reaction is reasonable. After all, we all sort of knew that the guy was long gone anyways. 

"He was stabbed. I think he was mistaken for the apparent monster that they've all been blabbering about."

Piggy was silent, but fidgeted uncomfortably. Ralph rubbed his chin, but spoke up. 

"Take me to see the body." Piggy looked over nervously, prepared to protest but his worries are calmed.

"Piggy, you can just stay and watch the little ones," he said. I pat the skiddesh boy on the shoulder to provide some reassurance. 

"Come on then!" An exasperated Ralph urged.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

"I just found him like this," I pointed to the twisted body that lays on the cave's rocky floor. Ralph peered down somberly. After all, as one of their school's officials, he'd been a mentor for most of these kids before everything happened.

"We can't leave him like this," whispered Ralph. The boy looked back at me.

"We have to bury him."

I gestured back at Benson. "But what if we need to show Jack?"

Ralph put a hand out for me to stop. "We show him the grave, and the empty cave." He explained sourly. "It's inhumane to leave a body like this."

The reasonable part of my brain finally kick started. He's right. Trying to prove the childish point of an imaginary monster is way lower on the scale. A proper burial is plain respect. "Okay," I nod, backtracking my last statement as remorse pinches me.

"You want to right now?"

"Yes," he answered. "We can at the top of this hill, so he'll be in the sunlight from now on."

I smiled sadly at the chief. The first thing we'd have to do is move him, which is a two person job. Benson isn't the biggest guy on Earth, but he's a grown adult man, nonetheless.

"I'll get his legs, you grab him just under the arms," Ralph instructed. In a hustle to make things quick, we both hurried over to our placements, and hoisted up on the count of three.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Despite my hatred for sweat and woe, I found myself indifferent to both as aching pain rippled through my arms with every thrust of the flat rock that I grasped between my trembling hands. The rock's rough surface grinded against the skin of my already calloused palms, rubbing them raw. Meanwhile, the sun beat down on us as we dug the grave. It eyed us from its stalking point in the sky like a huge eyeball, and taunted us with blazing heat. The weather is wickedly bipolar here.

I grunted, stabbed the Earth with the makeshift shovel, and dragged it back till it created an open wound in the dirt. My stamina was withering. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I drew in a shuddering breath and flung the loose soil into one of the scattered piles. Ralph hacked away at the ground with a ripped up plank of wood from a rotted tree, haphazardly snarling with a twisted grimace to display the hard work.

After what felt like hours, we gave up on the secondary excuses for tools and attacked the ground with our bare hands like it was an enemy. I pictured Jason Dean to keep my motivation running. I wonder who Ralph pictured.

The corpse was laid out in the sun, stiff as a board, but not light as a feather. That thing isn't Captain Benson. It's merely a jar that once held his soul like a moth. That concept wasn't clicking in Ralph's brain, but I still held heavy sympathy for his grievances.

As a gravemarker, we buried him in front of a reddish boulder at the peak of the hill. We did everything to get a deep enough grave, digging on our hands and knees. Peering down, I gaze at the dark lines hooded beneath my fingernails where soil is trapped under. Not a pleasant feeling, but it got the job done. Benson is rested next to the ditch so the hole would be appropriately scaled.

About the whole time, Ralph continuously muttered silent apologies, repeating over and over. Being gentle, we slid the man into this new tomb, one where he could rest, lowering him with ease to the floor.

"Benson was a good man," he nodded earnestly, coughing and sniffling. Uncomfortable, I remained quiet and grabbed his hand. There wasn't ever a reason that proved I should've been wary of Benson, besides that fact that he required constant supervision. It's sad, really. Like, another crack formed in our whole developed system. This... corrupted excuse for civilization. Everything was going further off the rail, and we're rendered powerless.

And so it went, listening to Ralph mutter his thoughts outloud until we had to push the dirt into the makeshift grave, giving Benson a hopefully temporary resting place.

"We need to go tell Jack. For Simon." I say, keeping my focus on the freshly tossed dirt. "Yeah. Alright." Ralph mumbled bitterly.

"Night will fall soon," I pointed out, eyeing the sky as the clouds were mopping up. He only nodded, contributing to the painful awkwardness. 

"Well, let's go then."

♕︎♕︎♕︎

"I seriously have to talk to him tonight??" Eric exclaimed in disbelief, like we told him that the sky is actually red. "Yes, it won't be so bad," I coaxed, tugging his arm to the direction of Jack's camp.

"I don't wanna!"

"You said you would!" I justified shrilly. Pulling away, the twin crossed his arms, glaring and Ralph and I. "Yeah, but I didn't think I would have to so soon. You might as well tell me to jump into a shark's mouth!"

I rolled my eyes. "You're such drama. Let's go before they kill another person." Can't believe we were practically about to babysit some deranged teenagers.

"Do I have to go too...?" Piggy asked, his teeth almost chattering. Ralph slapped a hand on the boy's shoulder roughly. "Safety in numbers, so yes."

"Don't be a pussy," Eric bit back, incredibly uncalled for. I shot a warning glare. "Take your own advice then."

He silenced quicker than expected. The sun is diving below the horizon and into the sea, splashing the sky with pink and orange. On the far opposing end, the darkness of night slowly crawled over the distance trees. The few little ones are put to bed early since there's no one to watch them while we confront the more 'dangerous' group.

Walking in a clump, we almost braced ourselves as we headed along the beach. A flurry of smoke danced to the darkening sky a good way out, pairing with a faint glow of a fire. A familiar feeling unfurled in my gut. It wasn't until this moment that I questioned this whole choice.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

A scent of cooked pork wafted in the air as the chanting presumed. Why would they even party after what happened? Is there no sympathy left? As if the hot air wasn't unbearable enough, the raging bonfire sent a bath of heat to sit heavily around us.

At our entrance, every painted gaze turned focus to us, making even us pause. Immediately this time, Jack came forward in almost dangerous strides, scowling like he just smelled something putrid.

"What the fuck do you want now?" The hunters readied their spears at the blonde's demanding question to us. Ignoring them, I stepped up to the chief. 

"We're here to watch you guys so nothing else can happen!"

He scoffed, triggering a domino effect for the savage group to emit nasty snickers. 

"We don't need your supervision, Vera."

"I think you do," Ralph intervened angrily, occupying the big gap between Jack and I. As expected, Roger appeared nearby at the argument. I cannot help but think about the way Jack even uses that God awful nickname during the worst of times.

"You killed somebody, Jack! You killed Simon!" Ralph stabbed knives into the air with screamed words while pointing to the group. My head craned past the boys. I saw Sam, observing the scene. Eric has yet to make any move to talk, but I didn't expect him to in this moment.

"The monster was in him!" Jack shot back, snarling as he lunges with a spear, yet doesn't try to stab anyone. Something about that phrase turns everything over. 

"Are you fucking kidding?" I made a beeline towards the blonde, brushing past Ralph.

"You're not going to use that dumb fucking excuse for a human child, when we found your fucking monster!"

They paused, piquing interest on their faces. 

"It was only Benson. Remember him? You literally heard a deranged old man! We found him!"

Jack's head shook in denial when focus turned to him. "You're lying. He swam out in the ocean and drowned."

"Wanna say that to his body?" I challenged. Snarling, Roger lunged at me. Reflexes kicking in, I ducked away as Jack yanked him back and flashed a cool look. 

"You're a bunch of fucking liars!" He proceeded, not accepting any logic.

"You're losing it." I insisted, making his scowl falter. 

"It was Simon's fault then for running straight into a mob. He was always aloof."

My jaw clenched. "Do you wanna say that again?" I started to march over, getting Roger riled back up.

"Easy!" Ralph jumped in front of me. Jack puts a solemn hand over his chest in pure mockery. 

"Awww," he gushed. "Looks like Vera has a knight in shining armour to come to her rescue!"

Truthfully, I don't want some hero trope. Danger is all I know anymore. And I don't mind it. I want someone in a black trench coat to whisk me away right into the thick of trouble.

"So," Jack started progressively, studying us and our combative stances. "Did ya just come here for meat?" He smirked, satisfied with the idea of us relying on them for food, like he had gained an upper hand.

"We already told you that we just want to watch you all!" Ralph tightened his fists, waiting for a response. 

"Huh," Jack chuckled, unconvinced. Roger joined in with the forsaken dark laughter.

Poking out a lower lip, Jack leaned to his side to look at me, pointing a smug finger my way. 

"Her too?"

"No." I answered for myself before Ralph could. Smirking, Jack sauntered over, carelessly brushing past the brunette.

"Hungry, Vera?" He egged me smugly. I stared at him, straight faced. "I don't want your half cooked pork."

Shrugging, he called over for a few hunters. "Sam! Tony! Collect some fruit, and bag them into two old shirts worth."

The two snap to attention, and salute, "Yes, Chief," in unison. I cursed under my breath as Eric avoided the contact with Sam when the boys hurried away as to not anger Jack. A hand pulled my gaze away.

"You're gonna eat tonight." Jack insisted, a sinister calm. I eyed him and ripped away. I'm disgusted. Does he feel nothing? My eyes drifted to the sand, still tainted red and somehow yet to be washed away. My breath hitched in my throat and Jack seems to notice.

"Don't you miss our old arguments?" He blurted, almost to distract me. My head zipped to him, and I squinted. "They never stopped."

He shook his head to debunk that phrase. "No. I mean the arguments we had on the plane, and when we first got here."

I thought about it. How could I forget such enraging moments? However, the way he made me feel back then couldn't compare to the anger I wanted to unleash on him now. I didn't think it'd be possible. The red and black warpaint is applied so harshly to his face, yet I could somehow still see glimmers of the old Jack.

"I'd rather forget those," I admitted, glancing back to the red sand. A hard ball formed in the back of my throat, and I felt the heat building up in my eyes. Swallowing, Jack took another attempt.

"Remember when we danced in the woods?" He took my hands slowly, looking flirtatious as ever. I glared at him, nodding ever so slightly. "Unfortunately."

He moved my hand to his shoulder while grasping my other one. I gasped suddenly when his free hand took hold of my waist, and suddenly we're swaying.

"What are you doing," I asked, reasonably startled. Ralph, Piggy and Eric all eyed me from a distance. Jack shushed me.

"Stop asking questions or I'll make you cross that log bridge with me again," he grinned. "Don't you remember it?" Of course I did.

"Since, you know, my name's Jack, I asked if you'd care to be my Rose. Then you said-"

"- I'll never let go, Jack." I interrupted him begrudgingly. My darkened eyes shot daggers at him. The phrase had a whole new meaning now. I would never let go of the fact that he made this island into a second Hell. I would never let go of Simon's death. I would never let go of the grief he caused me. That's when I called his bullshit.

"Why are you acting like this? Do you not care that you killed someone?" Despite my harsh words, I don't pull away from his hold. The broad smile melted away to a frown, guilty now.

"I care more than you think," he whispered seriously. Our eyes bore into each others. "Then why are you acting like it never happened?"

"Because I don't want you to think about it anymore."

I widened my eyes with satire, placing an innocent hand on my chest. 

"Why?" My breathy words came out in a mock-dreadful tone. "Because making me not think about it is supposed to clear your guilty conscience? You think I ought to surrender to your side and slit someone's throat as initiation?"

The sardonic words, as cynical as they were, clung to the obvious hint of sarcasm. "That's not quite my strong suit, but I commend you for trying. It shows how stupid you are."

Jack immediately backtracks after my scathing allegations. "I didn't mean it like that," he stammered in defense. "You know I didn't mean it like that, right?"

I shrug, fully unsure. "Honestly? I don't know what to think anymore." Sighing, he brushes over my knuckles with a thumb, grazing the dainty rings that hug my slim fingers. Anxious, I shoot another glance to my friends, flashing a look to indicate my thoughts to them. Without any warning, Jack suddenly dips me around before twirling me.

"Jesus-" I exclaimed in surprise, making him laugh. Roger stared at us from a safe distance. There's something predatorial, sinister even. I looked back, choosing to not brush it off for once.

Too busy staring at Roger, I didn't notice Ralph charging over to Jack. It catches me by surprise when Ralph tears Jack away from me by his shoulder, and sends a fist thundering across the blonde's cheek. When Ralph pulled back, his knuckles are tainted red. I don't have to be a genius to know what brought the sudden anger on. Jack's nonchalant attitude of being a complete shithead is enough to make anyone want to lash out.

The painted boys start to form a circle around the two. Stunned, I watch them until a hand yanks me back; Eric pulling me into the crowd and out of the ring.

"Kill the beast! Bash his head! Do em in!"

Roger would be the only one chanting those grotesque words. I'm right, of course. "Shut up!" I screamed at the sullen boy.

"Kill the beast! Bash his head! Do em in!"

The chanting increases as more people catch on in the disturbing enthusiasm. Breathing hard, I turn my attention to Jack and Ralph; fists flying, bloody noses, and split lips.

"Kill the beast! Bash his head! Do em in!"

It would have been fine. It all would have blown over if Roger hadn't joined in. Luke and Pablo went at it. Pablo who joined on Jack's side however, fought for Ralph. I stumbled to the side when Eric whizzes past to jump in.

"Kill the beast! Bash his head! Do em in!"

Then went Rapper, and Will... Piggy and I stood back. It was a fucking riot. In their delusional cloud, half of them weren't even ganging up on Ralph; just screaming like banshees and pretending to beat each other like they were all the alleged "monster" that had been debunked. Shaking my head and mustering up the courage, I shoved my way in.

Noisy, prolonged calls in a dragged out, squeaky voice tried calling me back. The voice in question belonged to Piggy, who has the tendencies of a coward even when he could be a mentally strong person. Flashes of pale and dark flesh covered in crimson war paint blurred across my vision as I take Ralph by the hand -- who is no longer attacking, or even being attacked by Jack. Jack in question lost interest and joined the manic chanting.

"Look what you started!" I shriek frantically to Ralph as I drag him out of the buzzing mass of humans, flinching as some of them charge my way in all directions. The tune of the hunting chant is distinguishable through the shouting and fists colliding in bloody unison.

"He had it coming," Ralph finally answers as we make it a few feet back on the outside with a blubbering Piggy. Staring at Ralph, I sigh out slowly in disappointment. So much for babysitting, eh? In my time of looking back at the crowd for Eric, I take notice of someone who stands out in the chaos; It's Roger.

His eyes stay glued on an active figure. Enthralled, is how I'd describe it. I pause at the uncanny demeanor. This doesn't strike as a casual study of madness, but it's a gaze of something far more sinister to comprehend. Eyes are the windows to the soul. I peer through them to find his predatorial motives just waiting for the moment to pounce. That's when I snap into reality. He looked like- wait.

Brain fog of heavy distortion clouds my thoughts. The sounds -- it's as though water had been flooding into my ears. Like the sound of the sea through the conch shell. Only it's not the real sea, that's a facade we get told as kids. In reality, it's the blood rush of adrenaline and intent. Even through the muffled chiming, I can undoubtfully make out that horrid chant.

A glowing pinnacle of chaos sat in the midst of the riot, fueling everyone's desire. Orange flames roaring up into the sky, licking the clouds. There's no control this time. The ropes are snapped.

Focus swivels back to Roger. Direct eye contact comes first in a steady click. Beat two, I feel a sinking pit in my stomach. A moment later, the smirk unfurled on his face. Its origins are an open book. The famous one like JD -- it always left me terror stricken.

Yes, he knows something that I don't. Something bad is about to go down and I won't be able to stop it. My wit cobbles together at the command of my logical thinking coming through. The fog clears up. I watch him test the end of a sharpened spear for persision. Realization hits me like a pound of bricks. Roger's gonna...

My heart starts running the opposite direction of my mind. It's footsteps pound vibrations through my chest. Unable to piece together a complete thought, I still don't even have to think, because I already know.

"Holy shit," I mutter in renewed awareness. "Someone's gonna get killed..." I grab Ralph to snatch his attention.

"What?" He strains to hear me through the chaos. I clench my jaw and yank him closer to repeat the useless warning.

"I said-"

The sentence goes unfinished as a penetrating sound splatters through the atmosphere. An unmistakable sound of flesh ripping, and several frightened screams sourcing from the hunters to compliment it. Oh, the sound of bloody glory.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."

- Joseph Conrad

♕︎♕︎♕︎

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 --- 𝐒𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓.𝐕 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡? 𝐌𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 <𝟑