It was a dark night on the island. Edward, a lone figure, slid down the mountain towards the camp. In the moonlight, he spotted two identical figures guarding the entrance.

The twins, Sawyer and Earl, were imposing figures. They offered Edward food but declined to join him in his planned escape. Their words sent a chill down Edward's spine.

Mark, the tribe's tormentor, had set a cruel plan in motion. Edward was to be hunted down, his head displayed as a trophy to an imaginary beast.

His ally Corby, even more sadistic than Mark, was to carry out the gruesome task. Edward's heart pounded as he retreated into a thicket, his only sanctuary for the night.

As dawn broke, Edward awoke to the horrifying sounds of one of the twins being tortured by Mark. It was clear they were hunting for him, the fear was palpable.

The boys in their tribal paint and makeshift armor were a terrifying sight. They charged at the thicket with a boulder, but the dense vegetation refused to yield. Edward watched them from his hiding spot, his heart pounding against his chest as he clutched a sharpened stick in his hand.

Unfazed, the boys regrouped and attempted to force their way into the thicket. Edward fought back with all his might, his stick proving to be a handy weapon. He jabbed and swung, keeping the boys at bay and preventing them from discovering his hiding spot.

Suddenly, Edward smelled smoke. His heart sank as he realized that Mark had set the jungle on fire to smoke him out. He could hear the crackling of the flames and the excited shouts of the boys. He had to abandon his hiding place and make a run for it.

Edward darted out of the thicket, pushing past Mark and his hunters. He sprinted through the burning jungle, pursued by the warrior-boys who were intent on capturing him. Every rustle in the undergrowth, every snap of a twig made his heart leap with fear.

Exhausted and out of breath, Edward stumbled onto the beach. He collapsed on the sand, his pursuers closing in on him. Just when he thought it was the end, he saw a figure standing over him. A naval officer, his uniform crisp and white in contrast to the chaos behind Edward.

The boys halted in their tracks at the sight of the officer. The officer questioned them, his tone stern and reproachful. He couldn't believe that these boys, these English boys, could have descended into such savagery.

The officer’s words hit Edward hard. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized the extent of their loss of innocence. He began to sob, his tears falling freely down his cheeks. The boys too broke down, their sobs echoing across the deserted beach.

The sight of the weeping boys brought the reality of their situation crashing down on them. They had allowed fear and savagery to rule them, to turn them into beasts. They had become the very thing they feared. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow.

The tears continued to fall, a poignant reminder of their lost innocence. As the fire in the jungle died down and the echoes of their sobs faded away, a heavy silence fell over the island. A chapter of their lives had ended, and a new one was about to begin.