Here's an alternate ending to Lord of the Flies I had to write for English
warning:if you haven't read the book recently it may not make sense
I went about 1000 wds over the minimum req. enjoi!

Samneric have just left Ralph as a result of Jack torturing them into submission.

Grimly, Ralph turned from the tribe’s encampment and began the trek to his shelters. It was only a short time before he realized that the shelters would be the very first place the hunters would look for Ralph, and contact with them would result in his death. After deciding that the hunters would sleep when done with their feast, Ralph retired under a bush that carried small red berries.
Ralph awoke with the early morning sun orange in his eyes. He knew from his earlier encounter with Samneric that he would be undisturbed until midday, when the manhunt would begin.
The tribe would be thorough in their search of the island, and Ralph had no desire to fight off his former friends in a battle to the death. The answer to his dilemma was quite clear: to ascend the mountain and make camp there. As he considered his choice and slid out from under his green habitat, he realized that although the beast had been sighted, it had never moved to attack or even come off the mountain. Perhaps it had flown away, or swam away, or whatever this beast was apt to do. With these positive thoughts in mind, Ralph climbed further, taking bites of ripe fruit when he felt it necessary.
Roger emerged from the forest, still wet from his swim, and approached the red-faced figure standing vigil over his fortress. He stood uncertainly for a moment, anxiously eyeing his Chief, before he was noticed.
"Well?" inquired the masked boy.
"Jack, uh, Chief, sir, you asked that I find out if he’s at the shelters?"
"Well?" demanded the Chief.
He’s not there, and the campfire has been cold all night. I think he’s found another place to hide” reported Roger smartly.
Jack absorbed this for a moment, before turning towards the cave and whooping loudly. A drum responded presently, and before long, the savage had a line of painted boys behind him, each wearing a generous amount of dyes and paints to confuse their intended prey. They set off at a run, in a jagged line of death; Ralph will not threaten us any longer, of this Jack was sure.
Ralph, having taken the last cautious steps onto the summit, noted that the site looked exactly the same as he had last seen it. This seemed strange, because surely a monster would have a mangled body or pig skeleton lying around his home. He faced the direction he’d seen the beast from before to be greeted by the corrupted body he’d expected. He glanced around, but seeing no immediate danger, stepped over a fallen tree, walked closer to the figure, and examined it. This was difficult, because some hidden discipline told him he was looking at something he shouldn’t; Ralph involuntarily looked away at regular intervals.
Realization dawned on Ralph as he saw the remains of a paratrooper’s backpack and a torn parachute ensnared in a nearby treetop. Ashamed at his fear of this ‘beast’, Ralph nudged the body until it lay hidden behind a rock formation. He then proceeded to make a crude lean-to and patiently waited there, enduring the stray cries of the hunting party, until just before dusk. By now, Jack’s hunting party would have fruitlessly completed their purge of the island. The hunters would be disappointed and tired, and would either play in the swimming pond or eat a pig on the off chance that they’d caught one. Ralph arose and walked down to the beach to think.
Jack sat in his polished chief’s chair, watching his savages dance their ways around a campfire big enough for twenty more. His stomach was satisfied as a result of the pig they’d stumbled upon and killed, but he himself was restless, his anger towards Ralph yet unfulfilled.
There must be some way to rid my people of the threat that is Ralph, thought Jack silently to himself as he watched the sun descend beneath the horizon. He waited for an hour until the island should have been asleep, then restlessly got up from his polished tree and angrily walked away on the beach. It was not long before he heard a noise and froze. A snake no more than two feet long slithered across the sand in front of him. It bared its fangs and flickered its tongue at Jack, and he stood still; his hunter’s mind formulating a way to force the life out of the vile thing. The snake tensed to strike at Jack just as he kicked a wave of sand at it. The serpent shrank backwards a foot or two rapidly, intending perhaps to escape back into the greenery, but Jack would have none of this, and grabbing the nearest rock, ground the snake’s middle into the earth. It shuddered and oozed a little hot blood before going still, its eyes glazing and mouth relaxing shut.
Jack’s eyes widened in malice. Some snakes were poisonous, he knew. This is why a snake should not be trusted. He carefully took the snake’s remains from the now-bloodied sand and walked a short distance to the pond. Surely, thought Jack, Ralph must drink, and should he drink this poison, the island will be rid of his presence. Jack lobbed the remains of the poisonous thing above the pond and turned away, feeling no twinge of remorse for killing his once-friend.
Ralph awoke sure of what he must do. Setting the whole island ablaze was stupid and immature the first time, but this time it would be the only way. The only way to alert the civilized world to his peril without telling the savages exactly where he was. He confidently ran down the slope of the mountain, heading for the general direction of the camp. He was surprised at how fast he went; soon he was already passing the swimming pond. Well, thought Ralph, I’d better take a drink while I have the chance. A cold feeling crept into his stomach telling something was wrong, but he shook it off and proceeded to drink his fill. He wiped his mouth with his hands and stood, now facing the camp, and continued on.
Jack realized his mistake too late. He had arrived at the pool, satisfied with the marks of Ralph’s rushed passage, and celebrated with a coconut shell of cool, refreshing water. Several of the littluns joined in, Jack’s satisfied cruelty passing through each of them as they partook of the nice, clean drinking water. Then his actions late the previous night hit him like a stone. His jaw dropped a little, but behind his mask of savagery, none had noticed. Perhaps the snake had been clean, reasoned Jack. Perhaps there was no poison and his attempt to kill Ralph had failed. But something told him this was wrong, that the snake was indeed fatal. He remembered the snake’s black scaly skin; its two red scales above the eyes that gave the appearance of four red, evil eyes. No, the snake was full of venom, and the boys were going to die. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them, even behind his indifferent false face of power and anger. They continued to fill themselves with an unknown toxin. Jack then stood and commanded the team to pursue Ralph.
Halfway to the camp, Ralph came to a halt. His insides were clenching up differently from the cramps he always got running, and his throat was swollen, like he’d been throttled recently. He looked back and saw, oddly, Jack and his crew suffering much of the same. His eyes went out of focus and with a gasp, all went black.
"Ralph!" a shrill voice exclaimed, "You’ll be late for the bus, it’s almost seven!"
He sat up, looking awkwardly at the sweaty sheets that surrounded him and realizing the truth. He shook his head and pinched himself, acknowledged the pain, and got out of bed. He walked out of the room, yelling a response to the voice that beckoned for him, and left his adventures behind.

I'll be posting stories every one or two months, I'd think.
Last time i promised them weekly and failed miserably. I may actually write more often that every 2 months but just thinking realistically ^^ . L8r