Short Story: "The Most Dangerous Game" Ending (Richard Connell)

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My Additional Ending

Rainsford awoke violently, clutching the silk sheets in a steel grip. The once vivid glimpses of his dream wisped away like smoke. His eyes darted around the large confinement of his bed as he began to compose himself. A lazy sun shone through the thin bed curtain, and as he sat up, he brushed them aside. As he was beginning to enjoy the splendor of the new day, he was momentarily startled as his gaze fell upon the lifeless corpse of General Zaroff, a grim reminder of the previous night. “At least I gave him a fair chance”, thought Rainsford, proud of himself for not going along with his original plan. Hurriedly throwing on some fresh clothes, Rainsford got prepared for the day.

The large oaken table stretched before him, reminding Rainsford about how lonely he felt. “What had happened to Whitney and the yacht?” he wondered. That kind of thinking didn’t help his situation now, so he pushed the thoughts out of his head. After a bland breakfast of oatmeal and a surprisingly ripe banana Rainsford decided to let free the captives in the basement. After he found the keys, he opened the thick oak door and walked down the stone steps. As he rounded a bend a dozen faces quickly turned to peer at him. Rainsford saw the looks of fear in their eyes change to confusion as they stood there; trying to comprehend what was going on. “Do any of you speak English?” he asked slowly. “I do”, responded a broad shouldered Spaniard as he stepped forward.

“To start, the General and his large friend are both dead, so you are no longer in danger.” Rainsford said with a smile. The Spaniard relayed this to his comrades, and they all started to laugh and embrace each other. “However”, Rainsford continued, “his dogs are still out in the courtyard, so I am asking you and your men to kill them. You can take any food and weapons, and take a few souvenirs with you. There is also a boat at your disposal”. “Thank you” the Spaniard replied, and he stepped forward and shook Rainsford’s hand. He then briefly spoke to his comrades, and they then filed out of the room.

Rainsford wiped the sweat from his brow as he threw the shovel down and sat on a boulder. He looked over at the shallow grave he had just filled in; General Zaroff’s. There was no elaborately engraved headstone that should be appropriate for a nobleman of his status, but it suited him all the same. Rainsford knew he wouldn’t have come to peace had he thrown the man’s body to his once beloved hounds, even after all the man had put him through. He had crudely buried Zaroff, and hopefully all the deadly secrets he kept with him. Satisfied, Rainsford walked to the top of the nearest ridge. He gazed out upon the vast ocean spaces, and appreciated their glamour. He then pulled out a pipe and lit it, breathing in the soothing tobacco. 

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