My ex-lover Kendrick was the Competition’s winner two years in a row and now he’s dead. He warned me something was going on about the game, about the winners. He documented four murders−before his.
When we were kids, we were promised to each other. I’m an adult now, and I’ve long ago turned down my tiara, but I’ll keep my word and find Kendrick’s killer. The wee killer of the Competition’s past winners.
Rule 1: Have fun!
Rule 2: Catch the highest number of spheres and win! Yellow spheres (visual targets) are worth 1 point. Blue spheres (heated targets) are worth 5 points. Black spheres (vibrating targets) are worth 15 points.
The rules are simple enough.
Rule 15: Players should conduct themselves in a civilised fashion. Physical contacts and/or weapons are strongly discouraged.
My plan is simple. Win. Try not to die doing so. Once the game is over, the killer will come after me, and I’ll catch him in the act so to speak. I’ll steal, lie, fuck, drink my way to the top if I have to. What have I got to lose, anyway? And if that plan fails, I’ll come up with a new plan. Or play again.