Other Fan Fiction ❯ Tome of a Fiend ❯ The Rebirth ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

This is the beginning of Roger's life back in a civilized setting. HE begins school and tries to take up the roles he had before the island. But is his need for violence and freedom too strong for him to fully return?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The Lord of the Flies. The father in the story is mine.

Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 02.13.2008 | Updated On: 02.13.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 751 | Visits: 166 | Status: Work In Progress

Sunday March 12, 1946

It has been a year since the rescue and two years since the island. Some would look at the deeds I committed as evil or dark, others would be plagued by guilt and remorse at the atrocities that one so young did, but not me. The thrill of seeing the combination of shock and terror consume that bag of fat as the boulder struck him; or the enticing feel of blood soaking my hands after a fresh kill brings not remorse, but wanting. The want, no need, for that freedom again, to escape the suffocating rules and laws of society and to be me. I wish to be the true Roger Harold Darcy, the one whose soul is streaked with darkness and tinged with impurity.

Monday March 13, 1946

Today was my first day back to school, mum was against it saying that I had been through a "traumatic" experience and needed her love and care not textbooks and lectures, but education comes first to father and he was not hearing it. Fitzwilliam Darcy III is a prominent man in Derbyshire, and his only reason for bearing a son was so he could have a suitable heir to his fortune and title as Earl of Derby. So I have come to expect such insensitivity from him, and to know that his decisions are final.

School felt like a prison designed to slowly drive a chap mad. The highlight of that day was during the lunch break between my morning and afternoon classes, I was catching up with all that I had missed with my friends and telling them of the island when this kid bumped me. Sure he said sorry but I would have none of that from a pudgy little nobody. So naturally I made him pay by throwing him into the duck pond that lay in the center of the quad. Watching my victim flail around in the pond to keep from drowning I noticed how much the little porker resembled that fat wind bag Piggy. At that moment I wished that I had a boulder to crack his skull open, not only that but the cruel laughter of the other kids started a train of thought in me. I realized that I am not the only one who enjoys the pain and suffering of others, and that just because my location changed the liberty I felt on the island can still survive in this world. So now I plan to seek out the one who's heart and soul is as corrupted and cold as mine.

Wednesday March 15, 1946

It took some searching since he went and changed schools but I found him, the only one who could understand me and the only one whose rules I would follow, my chief Jack Merridew.

He was sitting in the park where I told him to meet me and even in the civilian clothes he had that air of deadly authority that made him feared among the others and a proper chief. I wasted no time stating my proposal I wanted the tribe. But not for play for territory, with the other members of the choir we could be a gang whose force no one would stand up against. We could revive that savage independence that is slowly being crushed out of us by the weight of society's regulations. He looked at me and there was a glint in his pale blue eyes the one he got many times when he had spotted a suitable pig to hunt. He smiled at me with sadistic merriment and slowly nodded his head at the idea, saying that we should call the members now and begin building our gang.