Page 133 of Forsaking All Others

“Because people will target those with items they desire even before they target the people they truly want to eliminate. We’re not all Bear Grylls.”

“OK,” She says quietly, before winking and saying loudly, “but I need my pillow, Cat. It’s not a want, it’s a need.”

I play along, trying not to laugh.

“You can’t take your fucking pillow, Thorun, for Christ’s sake.”

The others in the room snort and shake their head. Silke gives us a contemplative look, but everyone else seems to buy Thorun’s idiocy, which is exactly what we want. Underestimating us hopefully will get us through to the end, although how Thorun is going to claim a kill, I have no idea. And just how I’m going to survive the wild long enough to murder Silke is also still unclear.

“A sleeping bag, then?” Thorun whines

“Yes, you can take that, now please, let me think!”

I turn from her, quickly slip the three small items she told me to pack into my bag, and leave the room.

100

I stand in the clearing and play my part as much as I’m willing and able.

Surrounding me are fawning audience members flown in specifically to watch this, the final challenge in my season of the Games. The director wants me to smile, chat and interact with them, but I can’t. If this is how they find amusement, watching women endure hardships and die, then each one of them is a sick, sick fuck.

Starlen is playing up to them, chatting and signing autographs, but he stops and spins on his heel to face the camera when the director signals it's time.

“And...Action!”

“And here we are, Bachelor Universe, deep in the heart of forested Alaska, about to start the highly anticipated final contest of the Games. It’s cold here, and wet. The snow hasn’t set in yet, but it will, and when it does it may be that only the warmth in the contestants’ hearts for their bachelor will see them through. As you know, this season we’ve had all the romance, all the heartbreak, all the violence and intrigues we expected, and then some, but this, this trial will see the culmination of it all.”

He spins to face another camera, the crowd shown cheering behind him.

“And here with me are the lucky winners of the VBG tipping competition. As you know, each year the bets run hot over who will win, who will lose, who will be eliminated, and in what order. The fans behind me have been the smartest and most astute; each one has pegged every elimination in order and subsequently won not just money, but the opportunity to stay in the same six-star hotel as the contestants and be here, on site, to start the contest. But they’re not alone, oh no, we know you’re all here with us too, in spirit, as you sit in your comfortable living rooms glued to your screens, not wanting to miss a moment of the action. And why would you? Six contestants are going into this dark, dank forest carrying only the bare necessities for survival, and only three, three at most, will make it out alive!”

He walks over to me as he’s talking, and a camera man hands me a microphone.

“And it’s not just the fans sitting on the edge of their seats waiting to see who’ll make it out of this challenge and into the Dreams and Desires Suites. Right here is our one and only, the man himself, the most handsome, most debonaire and most popular royal vampire bachelor we’ve had on the Games in seasons.”

He gestures to me, and I glare at him, but as usual he ignores my scowl.

“Viscount Speardon of Versailles Province, can you tell us now, as the Games head into their final days, where your head is at and perhaps, perhaps,” he raises his eyebrows up and down theatrically for the cameras, “where your heart is at?”

I clear my throat and address my words to the crowd, rather than him or the cameras.

“My head and my heart are aligned in knowing that what is about to happen in this forest is wrong.”

I clamp my lips shut and glare at the director as he shakes his head and motions to Starlen to say something.

“So wrong,” Starlen sighs with fake sadness, “such a tragedy to lose three of the world’s brightest and best. And yet, only one can remain standing in the end, ladies and gentlemen; only one can take on the coveted title of Viscountess. And speaking of which, here come our beautiful contestants now!”

“Cut!”

“Great, Great,” Gerry gushes. “Now, you wait for the girls to get here, and I’ll set them up in order.”

Starlen nods and spins to me, speaking low and off-camera.

“Viscount, you’ve been asked to say something about the fans and your contestants. Your reticence does both a disservice.”

“How so?” I scowl.

“The fans are holding up flags with your face on them. Your contestants are getting off a helicopter now with you held in their hearts. You need to at the very least acknowledge that they’re all here for you. After all, some are about to die fighting for your love.”