The last chapter! This probably should have been split into a couple, but that is okay! I did the majority of it today. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much to those that reviewed. Wish me luck! I have to present tomorrow!

There was a moment of silence for the boys. An awkward tension surrounded them all. None of the officers realized it, because they were blind to what the boys had truly been exposed to. Ralph reached forward and slowly began munching on the bread that was offered to him.

The littluns wouldn't even look at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack standing up. He took his lunch with him and walked over to where Ralph was eating. He watched the other boy warily as he approached and said nothing when he sat across from him. What did even one say to someone like that?

Apparently, Jack didn't know what to say either.

Finally, Ralph grew tired of nothing happening, of just sitting in this silence. "What do you want?" He asked coldly.

"Nothing," Jack responded, taking another bite of his food. "I've just come to talk."

"Well, there's no need. We have nothing to talk about." Ralph couldn't help but add. "Because I thought you didn't like talking things out." He'd rather bully and kill! The two did not say a word to each other for a very long time. Ralph stood up to leave, and Jack stood to throw his plate out.

"Ralph," he called, throwing it in the garbage. "There's no need to be angry. Listen to me, okay? I think I've figured it out."

"I don't have to listen to whatever you say! I don't care!" He told him, turning away.

"I realized that what happened is natural. It's about Piggy."

Ralph froze in his step, before he slowly turned around. How could he even dare to bring up his name?! "What?" He asked, fury appearing in his eyes.

"Don't you see Ralph? They teach us these things in school. You've heard of Charles Darwin? Well, his theory is right. The strong like us go on to live, while the weak will die off because they aren't worthy. Like Piggy. He was fat, and stupid, and he couldn't do anything right. He deserved to die."

"Take it back!" he roared, jumping forward with a surge of intense rage to tackle Jack to the floor. Immediately all of the boys' attention fell onto the fight. The men, while seeming a little concerned, did not interfere. They did not know of the true savagery of the fight.

"Get him Jack!"

"Ralph, stop him!"

"Stop it!"

The boys rolled around on the ground, yelling and calling the other names. It was a vicious fight, full of kicks and punches.

"Take it back!" Ralph screamed, rolling on top of Jack. His nose was bleeding. He grabbed Jack by his collar and shook him. "Take it back, take it back! You bloody coward! You monster!"

"Get off of me!" Jack spat with venom, as he managed a kick to Ralph's stomach. The boy groaned, letting go of his collar. At this opportunity, Jack gave a strangled shout that reminded Ralph too much of a war shout. He kicked Ralph off of him, and onto the floor. They struggled for power, as Ralph tried once again to get the upper hand. It failed once Jack managed to pin him down. He hit him once.

"You're stupid Ralph!" Another hit. Ralph raised his hands to defend himself. "We should have gotten you on the island!" Another hit. Jack's face was bruised, while blood gushed down from Ralph's nose onto his white shirt. Some of the littluns were crying, while in the distance Ralph heard an officer shouting.

"That's enough boys! Stop!"

Jack did not seem to hear him, or he was simply ignoring him. "I'm chief!" Jack yelled, nearly sounding insane. "Do you hear that?! I am chief!" And in a brutal act of savagery, the red-haired boy reached forward and wrapped his hands around Ralph's throat. He started gasping for any air. Jack squeezed down on Ralph's throat as hard as he could manage. Ralph squirmed, desperately thrashing for survival. He clawed at the other boy's arms, digging his fingers into his skin, but Jack wasn't budging. He coughed, his vision beginning fuzzy, black spots appearing in his vision, when the pressure was suddenly lifted off of him. He inhaled wildly, greedily gulping for any air he could.

The officer ripped Jack off of Ralph's body, dragging him up by his arm. "What the hell is the matter with you, boy?!" He yelled. "You're English! Not a savage!" He was yelling, but there was fear in his eyes. A grown man was frightened by what he had just witnessed in Jack; intent to murder, and madness. Ralph could hear his yelling, but he was not really registering anything else at all. He let his head fall completely on the floor, as his eyes shut. He panted heavily as his body recovered. Tears stung his eyes, and he could feel the bruises on his neck.

"Ralph!" cried one of the twins. "Are you okay?! Here, I brought you a napkin!" He opened his eyes, and slowly reached forward to take it. He didn't move for a few minutes. Finally, he forced himself to sit up, and pressed the napkin to his nose. He was being stared at by the boys and the men.

Roger made his appearance, stepping inside after the officer removed Jack from the mess hall. He had a small smirk on his face, but there was only maliciousness behind it. "That looked interesting," he merely said.

He spent the remaining time back in Mr. George's quarters. Ralph could tell the man was getting tired of having the boys on board his ship, even him. He took up space, but he absolutely could not return and face Jack. He'd been having a lot of nightmares, and the commander would always wake him up from them. It always involved the same thing. Jack, painted in his war paint, chasing him down through fire. He would chase him down until he caught him, and then strangle him with his bare hands. Mr. George would tell him how loud he was; that he would be screaming from the nightmare. Ralph believed that the commander was starting to understand, just a little, of what had happened on that island, though he was actively choosing to do nothing about it. People were all the same. Jack hadn't been punished for what he had done, because no one wanted to acknowledge it. As the ship came closer to London, the more his dread increased.

"We're here, lad," Mr. George announced on a grey morning. Ralph merely nodded. "Take care of yourself," he told him, giving the boy an awkward pat on the back.

He felt nothing as he walked off the ship. The other boys had already disembarked, and Ralph would never have to see Jack again. He felt small as he stepped back into civilization. People were everywhere; sailors, navy men, civilians. He walked through the crowds of people, seeing the familiar faces of the boys throughout the crowd. Some of them sat alone, others were taken by volunteers, and a rare few were embracing their parents. Ralph began to look around for anything. He did not see his mother or father, or anyone. It was so noisy, that it began to physically hurt him. It was too loud, too full of life. Or was life merely ignorance?

"Ralph?" A woman questioned. He turned around and saw his aunt. She was his father's sister. "Ralph! Oh my god!" She quickly hurried over to him and enveloped him in a hug. He flinched in a tense position, before he awkwardly returned her embrace. "We all heard the news of a warship that picked up schoolchildren from an island. We heard your name! Thank the Lord you're okay!" He really wasn't.

"Yes, I'm fine," he mumbled against her. "Where is mother?" He asked. He didn't really expect his father to be here, because he was on duty. His mother however, he especially needed right now.

Her smile disappeared instantly and she looked upon Ralph with pity. She bit her lip and crouched down to meet his height. She laid a hand upon his shoulder. "Ralph… It was two weeks ago... The Germans. Well… they dropped bombs in Kingston… And…She's dead. I'm so sorry, darling. Your mother is dead."

He was speechless. He could feel everything breaking inside of him, but everything remained fixed on his face. There was no change. "…Oh," was all he had to say. "Oh."

The nightmares continued, and his father never came home.

He could see Piggy in them all the time, getting crushed by the boulder over and over again. In a haze of red he saw Simon's terrified face. He pleaded and cried and begged the boys not to do this. In the dream, Ralph drew his blood first, his own stick being plunged into the gentle boy's body. And in the worst ones, he'd look into a mirror and see himself painted with war paint, looking like a savage.

The Lord of the Flies would speak through him.

"You think you are better than them, Ralph?" His own mouth would speak these words. "Jack and Roger have seen who they really are .While you try to deny it, they embrace it. Who is more of a Beast? You're worse than them, boy! You cannot hide from me now that you know what I am. I will be with you always. A lifelong companion! You cannot forget me. Why? Because. I. Am. You."

Two months after he arrived back home in London, his aunt and uncle took him to a doctor. It did not help him in the least that he was forced to talk to him.

"What happened on the island?" He was asked multiple times by both the doctor and his new guardians.

No one would ever truly believe him. If they did, they would move forward. He couldn't. "Nothing," he would always snap in return.

He did tell his doctor of the nightmares he had been having, leaving out the most important details. He told of his increasing anxiety and fear. He told of how he hadn't made any friends in his new school because he was afraid of the other children.

"I would say he has a case of battle fatigue or shell shock. But that's preposterous! A child cannot develop it. Men do in fighting wars!"

"Aren't they ignorant, Ralph?"

Two years later, Ralph was still having nightmares. He had done a phenomenal job of staying quiet, to avoid attracting the concern of his aunt and uncle. He hated what he saw every time he passed a mirror. He was beginning to develop into a man, and was fair-haired and getting taller. That seemed normal. He hated his eyes the most. When he studied them, they reminded him too much of Roger's. And when he thought of Roger, he thought of how he never cried for his dead mother.

"I just don't feel safe," he had said once. He didn't have any other boys over, he didn't talk to anyone, and no girl caught his attention. He kept to himself, and looked out for himself; just like how it always had to be.

"You have me."

For his fifteenth birthday, his uncle gave him a pocket knife to carry around, just to ease any fears he had.

"Ralph, you know the danger isn't on the outside."

He knew he was going mad; or had been since he was twelve He was always depressed, falling deeper into the void. There was no release, no escape. Ralph desperately wanted help, but no one could give it to him.

He was lost.

One day he walked home from school, taking a few detours to make the trip last a little longer. He craved the walks because they provided him with a distraction of sounds and noise. It did not allow him to be trapped in his own, scarred mind.

It was a cloudy afternoon when he ran into a red-haired youth. The two boys stopped in front of each other in disbelief, neither saying a word to each other. They simply stared.

"What a coincidence Ralph. What will you do to him? Make him suffer. Make him bleed."

"Ralph."

"Jack."

They stood in the middle of an empty side-street. Ralph wanted to turn and run far away. He thought he had gotten away from him, but fate was very cruel.

Jack was the first to speak. "Roger's in an asylum," he said as if he was stating the weather. Ralph's hand went to his pocket, touching the object to feel secure.

"What? Why?" he asked, a panic rising in him. Jack was going to kill him!

"Last year he tried to stab an annoying fat boy in our choir class." A lump formed in Ralph's throat. "He didn't kill him because he missed the artery." He felt absolutely sick. His hand was trembling.

"Well that's splendid," he snapped. He needed to get out of here! "Leave me alone, Jack." He told him, and began to walk past him, his mind clouding over. He really shouldn't turn his back.

"Wait Ralph," Jack began.

"No. Get away from me! Go away!" He shouted, walking a little faster.

"Wait. I just want to..." He caught up to Ralph and put a hand on his shoulder, meaning to turn him around and continue speaking with him. Jack never finished his statement.

"It will always come down to this. Ralph or Jack. It's you or him, boy. He's going to kill you! That's his plan, Ralph! Are you going to let him do it?!"

No.

Ralph screamed. It was loud, but he didn't register it over the ringing in his ears. He screamed for the madness and evil inside of him, for help, for anything! It was too late for him. He drew his pocket knife, and spun around. He lunged towards Jack with it. The hunters' cries played in his ears. Kill the beast. Kill the beast. Kill the beast! It was in defense! He knew it had to be! He met no resistance, and didn't remember exactly how it happened.

"T-Thank you," a shaky voice said before it was silenced. Ralph hit Jack with the knife over and over again until the screaming inside and outside of him stopped. He panted heavily as his mind cleared and the knife clattered to the ground.

Then, his eyes opened.

There was blood everywhere. It was on Jack's body, the knife, the surrounding pavement, and on Ralph. The red-haired boy didn't move at all and was silent. Ralph stared, his eyes large and haunted. Blood was even in his fair hair.

"I wonder… Who was the true monster?"

"Leave me alone!" Ralph finally broke, sobs racking his body as he grasped the bloodied knife to himself, nearly rocking like a baby in distress. What would he do?!

"I told you that you would not escape me. Now do you see? You never had a chance. Just like Jack, just like Roger. Just like Simon. Why do you think civilization even exists? You didn't possibly expect to be able to conform back to it did you? Poor Ralph. Poor, noble Ralph. You are not so noble now, hmm? Of course, no human is. You cannot lie to me, as you cannot lie to yourself. You murdered him. Just as you did to Simon, even though you still deny it. Rather tragic, if I might add. Then again, I feed off tragedy. Humanity lives off sadness and death and grief. What an existence."

The Lord of the Flies' laughter wouldn't stop in his head. He sobbed in desolation and misery, he sobbed for the death he had caused. He sobbed for his mother. The guilt was overwhelming.

Ralph looked up at the sky, tears mixing with blood. It was so peaceful there, unlike the scene on the empty street that probably wouldn't be empty for much longer. He didn't move for a long moment, lost in his madness and grief.

"I can't do this," he whispered.

'What are you going to do Ralph?"

"Kill the Beast."

In a quick motion, he thrust the knife into his own chest. He gave a yell of pain, though that was nothing compared to his feeling inside. Ralph groaned and fell to the pavement next to Jack. His heart stopped beating and the last thing he saw was a drop of rain, coming down from the sky.

"Don't you know I always win?"