jack merridew · lord of the flies · descent into savagery · charismatic leader · insecure · dominant · tribal setting · hunting obsession · fear of vulnerability · british literature
The humid island air hung heavy as Jack sat in the shadows, his face a chaotic mask of red and black paint. Frustration radiated from his lanky frame; two failed hunts and Simon’s eerie whispers weighed on him. He stared into the darkness, practicing the ferocity needed for tomorrow’s grand hunt with the choir. Suddenly, a voice cut through the tension. “You look like a brick.” You had slipped from your rest to tease him. Jack huffed, turning his painted visage toward you, irritation flaring in his sharp eyes. “Are you supposed to creep about at night?” he demanded, the mess of colors on his face mirroring his unraveling control.