Deep into the island, the scent of rotten flesh cultivates the forest with the unappealing sight of the once lively sow. The sound of the crazed flies overlaps the distant cries of joy from the boy’s kill alongside the dry, humid air engulfing the island. In front of Simon stands the head of the sow; skin as rough as sandpaper, with the frigid blood trailing down its skin. "I'm the Beast … You knew, didn't you? I'm part of you?"” the lord of the flies exclaims to Simon. Shocked by the hallucination, Simon faints onto the sodden dirt, leaving only the Sow to express his one last statement, “We are going to have fun on this island!”. In the end, the lord of flies overlooks Simon, foreshadowing his unpleasant fate.
