The Pursuit of Glory

Date the First

The Hunt has commenced.

The Gamecaster has decreed that the Hunt begin.

I despise this contest. I never thought I would be doing something so inhumane, and yet, here I am.

We are to write in these journals at nearly all time, listing everything about our time in this despicable contest.

In the case that I do not win, I must explain myself for the person who finds this.

This is the Hunt, a contest for fame, money, and title.

Each year there are five Beginnners, five people, who are accepted into the Hunt.

To win the title of Grand Hunter, you have to be the last person remaining. The Grand Hunter of the year is given a stupidly large amount of money, and is indicted into the Hall of Hunters.

I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to kill other people. If there was any other form of getting money, I would gladly do it instead of being in this godforsaken competition. If only I was a little more careful with my funds, then I wouldn't be here.

We were put into an abandoned school at the beginning. We were each given a radio, set only on the channel the Gamecaster was using to tell us when to begin. We were each given handheld weapon of our choosing, and then we had an hour to hide and gather materials. Food and water was given to us in our backpacks, but that was all.

I chose a machete. I thought it an efficient weapon, but it is heavier than I though it would be. Since we needed proof of kills, I thought it would make cutting off hands easier.

But instead of killing, I barricaded a classroom in the basement. At some point, I think I heard gunshots.

Date the Second

It's a brand new day.

I've always wondered about that term.

What does "Brand New" even mean? Why is the word brand there?

You know what? Forget it.

I went hunting today. The faster this is over, the better. It took me quite a while to push all the tables and chairs out of the way.

I ran up the stairwell, seeing a dead rat on the way. That concerned me, not because of the rat, but the fact that there was a bullet in it. That meant someone was nearby.

I found a piano in what appeared to be an auditorium. It was quite dusty and out of tune, but it was still somewhat functional. I always did like a piano. Such a complex instrument, and yet so easy to play. I also found a half-eaten strawberry poptart. What a waste of a good poptart.

On another note, I was almost shot today. I was running through the field, exploring, when another Beginner appeared from the bleachers. I was going to ambush him, but he saw me and acted first. He drew out a large crossbow from his pocket, and opened fire. Instinctively, I ran. He missed all four of her shots. I ducked behind an empty car, and he gave up.

I should consider myself lucky.

Next time, I'll be ready.

The journal ends.