Jacks Monologue

Sam nodded at Eric and together they walked toward the pool, Sam grasping the charcoal stick in one hand like a vice. They started painting their faces. It seemed wrong, somehow, to create a war mask out of colours that symbolised goodness, safety and love. As they plastered on the mask, Jack hurried them. “Come on you two. We don’t have all day!” As they finished their masks and looked at their reflection the water of the pool, a new emotion rushing through them. It was as if they had been taken over by the mask. It was as if their bodies were just a puppet, there for the masks entertainment. They could do anything; the mask would show them how.
Jack motioned for them to follow and the twins ran into line, Sam next to someone he couldn’t identify.
It was obvious to them all that Jack had been through this forest before, that his desire to kill a pig had evolved into an obsession that could potentially put them all in danger. But the mask, the mask told them to continue through the forest, to ignore the reaching branches and protruding limbs that threatened to trip them with every step. It wasn’t until halfway through the journey that Sam remembered the fire. They had left it without a second thought, the had been so mesmerised by Jack’s mask that they had abandoned their duty. What if a rescue ship came and the fire wasn’t there to alert them? Sam quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. A ship hadn’t come and they had been on the wretched island for at least a month now. Or maybe it was a week. Sam tried and tried and tried but he just couldn’t remember how long ago it was the washed up on the shore of the golden beaches. Then Ralph had told them to keep the fire going. They had betrayed the trust of Ralph, but, Sam reasoned, the chances of Ralph coming up to check the fire was minuscule, and the chances of a ship coming past were even more remote. He pushed all thoughts of Ralph, the fire and ships out of his head. And focused on navigating through the threatening trees. Suddenly, Jack halted and motioned for the rest of them to follow him. They crept into the bushes on his command and
They became as silent as the trees around them while they followed his order. In the distance, they heard faint snorting. The pig was coming. Jack counted down on his fingers, mouthing the numbers. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Jack leapt out of the bush, the others following as the formed a circle around the pig. “Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood.” The stabbed at the pig with their sharp spears, the pig squealing viciously as it tried to escape the trap that the masked monsters had led it into. Their chant increased in volume until they couldn’t hear anything but the frantic squealing of the pig and the hideous song that propelled them. They were violently stabbing at the pig, moving together with such energy that Sam was knocked over with Eric. He landed on the pig and felt it squirm underneath him. Jack took the opportunity to grasp the pig and bring the blade to the pig’s throat.
“Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood.” Sam knew Jack was thinking of the honour that would come from this accomplishment, of the respect that everyone back on the beach would give him once he gave them fresh meat to eat.
“Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood.”
The blade moved as if on its own accord, and the pig squirmed and then fell limp. The boys cheered and moved around in a sudden burst of energy. Roger grabbed the pig and holstered her up on his spear. They turned and walked back with the pig, eagerly awaiting the praise that they