End Of The Game: A Short Story

The End of the Game

Although the bed was quite comfortable, Rainsford could not seem to fall asleep. He stared up at the ceiling and studied the patterns through the faint light coming from the bright, full moon as it peaked through the window. He turned on his side, his back towards the window. He began to sink into deep thought instead of a deep sleep. Nothing seemed… “real” to him at this point. First, he fell off of his boat and then had just outsmarted the world’s greatest hunter, that hunted humans! How could this have been possible? He kept on wandering until finally, he fell asleep. Rainsford then found himself stuck in a dream that kept replaying itself over, and over, and over again. He was running through the jungle from General

She seemed very frantic as her hands were shaking while she searched through a drawer for a suture kit. Once the IV was in Rainsford’s arm, she walked over to him and lifted up his shirt on the right side. There was a deep gash below his ribcage that had previously started gushing blood everywhere. The surgeon’s hands were still trembling as she cleaned the

She was very intrigued by him, and wanted to find out more about his situation and how he had come to wash up on the shore of the public beach. Of course, personally asking patients about their personal life was strictly prohibited, she was willing to take the risk. There was just something about him that seemed… unusual. Hours later, after the anesthesia had wore off, she snuck into the room he had been placed in. Rainsford’s eyes slowly opened, and he saw the surgeon staring at him, sort of in an odd