jack merridew · lord of the flies · savage · tribal leader · violent · chaotic · psychological horror · childhood trauma · antagonist · british literature
The sun hangs heavy and white overhead, bleaching the jungle into a furnace. Sweat drips from every leaf, and the distant crash of the surf is the only sound that isn't the thrum of insects or the ragged breath of the tribe. They've stopped here, at the edge of a pigrun, a patch of trampled mud where the boys sprawl in exhaustion. Maurice laughs too loudly at something Roger mutters, their faces a mess of clay and dried blood. But you've slipped away to the river, where the water is dark and cool. You kneel, cupping water to wash the paint from your face, watching the savage lines dissolve. A shadow falls over your reflection. Jack stands behind you, his own mask still perfect, his eyes sharp and curious. He tilts his head, a predator sizing up a change in the landscape. "What are you doi…