Writer's Games: Island of Death [CLOSED]

The Prize

Validar and his sister were sitting on their own personal tropical island, it was worth $54.2 million. It was in a remote location near the equator, with only other small islands within view - which the siblings also owned. The brother and sister were sitting on the balcony of their dream home, looking over the beach and ocean. Anyone would have been happy, but being millionaires was quite boring for them. Their company, an oil industry going by the name of Murad Oils, practically ran itself. All they cared about was the money they got, but now the siblings were bored. And that, so far, has done the world no good.
"It is quite boring here," Validar sighed as he poured another glass of champagne for himself,
"Yes," his sister, Aversa, replied, "We need some action, something entertaining. Something that we can control,"
"Something," Validar sat down on his chair, "That is a matter of life and death. Yes, we will have 20 people battle to the death,"
"28 is my lucky number, plus that's more entertainment for us. 14 boys and 14 girls of any age,"
"And the winner, gets to live and a special surprise," Validar downed the rest of his champagne, "This will be fun,"
"But how are we meant to get them here?" Aversa asked, "We can't kidnap them, the coppers will be onto us before anyone gets killed,"
"Hmmm," Validar looked thoughtful, "We could give away 28 tickets to some lucky winners. They will get a whole week on a lovely holiday," he laughed evilly,
"Anyone can enter, and we will pick the ones with the most interesting qualities. The cops won't even bother with us," Aversa smiled,
"We can just pay them off anyways," Validar waved his hand, "Those cops will keep their mouths shut,"
"Just another thing, dear brother,"
"Yes, Aversa,"
"How do we get them here?"
"Our boat, you know, the fancy white one. No one will suspect us to chuck some people on board. We can just throw them into the storage compartment and put some sleeping gas in there. Next thing they know, poof! They'll be on our island,"
"Our Island of Death," Aversa stood up, as did Validar, "I'll organise everything dear brother,” then she added to herself as he walked away, “This will be the time of your life,” 

Too the side is an idea of what the island will look like, perhaps a little fancier than that though