The competition is over, so what? My ex Kendrick is still dead. I lay awake in the castle, awaiting his wee killer. "Come and get me," I shouted to the world days and days and days ago. Kill or be killed should be made into a rule in the Land of the Fair−My grandfather the King would approve. Although, te expectation alone may be the death of me. I've thought up a new motto. Hunt or be hunted.

I left out the real reason I'm here. Kendrick, my ex-lover, is dead. He was the game's winner three and two years back. On the Competition's Registration Form, at question 78: Why are you participating? Answer in 100 characters or less. I simply answered, "The game is but a game if it's played right. I play majestically. I play to win." Kendrick warned me something was going on about the game, about the winners. He documented four murders (before his). I can't track down two additional winners, so I've declared them missing in action. I've never been one to play for the team, but I'll make an exception. For him.