The Most Dangerous Game: Director’s Cut

Hello everyone. I did this one project for English and thought I should post it here. It’s basically how the the short story, “The Most Dangerous Game,” should have ended. Hope you enjoy.

Director’s Cut: The Most Dangerous Game

By: Hassan W. Osman

As Rainford awoke from slumber, bright beams of light shined through the curtains of Zaroff’s bedroom. These beams of light were a sign of grace from the storm that was diverted. Rainsford, however, did not see these moments of grace as a time to relax, but rather as a moment to leave the wretched island.  Rainsford got up from the bed, moving his head quickly in order to survey the room for any new threats. Although there were none in the room, he did not forget about the dogs outside. Rainsford looked through the window and saw that the pack of dogs were now half sleeping, given up on the hope of their master’s return. Rainsford then searched through a cabinet in the room, a cabinet that was made from a dark mahogany, with a streak of gold around its sides. He found a .22 pistol, and although it wasn’t a large gun, it could be used to take out any other threats on the island.

Rainsford then made his way to the basement of the large mansion, where he believed that the rest of the innocent sailors stayed. As he opened the door to the basement, he could only see a dark veil covering the room, much like the veil of darkness that covered him while he was on the yacht. There was a pungent smell coming from the room that was the smell of death, fear, and a failed chance of escape. The smell was so powerful that upon the first wiff of it, Rainsford stepped back from the doorway and began coughing violently. He then covered his nose, and went into the darkness. He was looking for the prisoners, yet doing so was the equivalent of searching for a black ant, in a black cave, during a black night – impossible. His hands were patting the wall in order to search for a light switch. After spending an hour looking for a switch, he found one and immediately turned it on.

“Oh Lord, Oh Lord, Oh Lord. Control yourself Rainsford! Do not lose it now, not after everything! Control yourself Rainsford! Do not lose it now, not after everything! Nerve! Nerve! Nerve!” Rainsford was in shock.  Although Zaroff was dead, it was as if he foresaw his fate, and had one more trap for his prey.

At that point, what was left of Rainsford’s innocence and sanity was destroyed in a second that felt like a century. What he saw was innocent Spanish sailors who had great rusty chains around their neck in order to hold them in place, yet there was no longer a need of that. The men were dead, and even more so they were missing most of their limbs. Upon closer inspection, Rainsford saw that there were patches of skin in between the teeth of the men, evidence that they were forced to eat themselves. While Zaroff ate from the garden of Eden, and drank from the finest of champagnes, these innocent men ate like savages and dogs. Although the room was lifeless, Rainsford felt as if demons surrounded him, celebrating their recent kill.

Despite Rainsford being a man of civilization, chivalry, and honor, he knew he would never be able to forget such an event, not only because of the deaths he witnessed, but because he recalls a time when he was General Zaroff. A time where he killed animals, not out of necessity, but out of sport. A time where he killed mothers, fathers, and children; the parents of future generations of thousands of animals.

“I’ve only witnessed the evil of my hunting when I was hunted. I’ve only experienced fear after being chased into a corner. I’ve only regretted my actions after I’ve been the recipient of them. Now, I will only experience death after seeing what I’ve done to thousands of other souls, souls that only wanted to survive, love, and do their other things,” Rainsford muttered, with a hint of  wanting to give restitution to the innocent creatures he had stripped their lives of.

In that moment, a pistol shot could be heard on that island, but this time there was no sign of a living human. Rather, one could see a spirit on that island, one risen by a false pride, that congratulated itself on its success: killing someone without the need of committing the action. Finally, Zaroff’s spirit felt forever entertained by his most brilliant hunt.


The Odyssey from Scylla’s Point of View

By: Hassan W. Osman

It has been ages since I’ve last eaten. The torment of hunger has taken over me like how a beggar pursues a measly coin – going to whatever lengths to get it. The amount of dolphins and dogfish has dwindled, causing my desires to seek other forms of nourishment. From the smallest of birds to the most innocent of men, everything in my path has been appropriated to my worst enemy – myself. I have heard stories of men fearing my presence, afraid of never returning home. Oh if only they knew! If only they knew, of the torment I am facing! I do not eat men aimlessly but rather to appease my hunger! I only take enough men so that every gullet is satisfied, but never more! I am no more evil, no more treacherous than the normal man. But rather, as a beggar would steal in order to provide for his stomach, I too must take the lives of the innocent in order to provide for my stomach.

It was a foggy day and the sea was calm. I was fast asleep when I heard men screaming as they neared Charybdis. Suddenly my stomach started to growl as a dog growls at the sight of prey. I held it back, and tried to contain it, saying “Woe to those who take the lives of the innocent! Have you no morals that you take the lives of those who have families, who simply wish to return home?” But my stomach replied in greater viciousness than before, a large growl that ringed throughout my body. As the voices of the men in the distance grew, my desire for food grew even stronger! I held it back with all of my might, gulping waves of sea water in order to fill my belly. But my belly grew, seeking not water but a real sustenance – the flesh of men. I pulled against the urge, but it was like holding back a wave ten times your size, an aimless endeavor. Than out of fear of the atrocity I may commit, I screamed abominably, as a newborn screams for its mother. The scream was heard miles away, including the very men that my desires were pursuing. Then alas! My eyes saw the innocent men I was about to strike, such soft and defenseless creatures. They were an easy meal, a subservient group of men asking to be eaten. But as one can take the life of a small defenseless child yet feel a wave of guilt, I too would feel guilt.

The men looked tired, their faces blanched as they saw my growing figure. And at that moment, my tentacles striked into the ship, taking whatever it could grab hold of. Then, in a swift manner I would take my prey and rip it from the boat, throwing him into my black gullets. It was like a man surfcasting: When his prey grabs hold of the line he immediately rips it out of the water. Some of the men were in a dire grapple, trying with all their might to leave my deathly hold. But I fought harder, with my desires in full control. One by one I threw the men into each of my gullets, until all were satisfied. Then the boat left, fleeing from death and fear. I was a monster, a demon that took six innocent lives. Lives that had families waiting for them, lives that simply wished to see home. I am not even worthy to live in the house of Hades.

Guilt overran me. And as I saw the small delicate boat in the distance, carrying the very men I pursued to eat, I could do nothing but whelp. Whelp so loud that the world may know of my sin, of how I was overcome by my gruesome desires. And so on this day my hunger settled, but the fire of guilt in my heart set ablaze.

The People of the Night

The night sprinkled with illuminating stars,

serving as ornaments to those who reflect,

but the ones who lie in slumber are taken a far,

some of sin and others of respect.

Oh how desolate it is, this peaceful night,

filled with unknown darkness that causes us despair,

and in this time we give ourselves to our lover’s right,

yet the haters of dark are unable to bear.

This night can be both a blessing and a curse,

with mountains of gold for those who stay awake,

and entering their final abode, they will be of the first,

for those are the people who do not forsake.

So in this night, that is filled with both sin and pleasure,

 there are people among us who use the night in a grander measure.

Hassan Osman

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