Eventually, we would find ourselves aligning with a man by the name of Simon Tyrell. He led us on many ‘hunts’, as it were...the only one of our little trio with a true thirst for blood. He’d quickly added the tongue of Fantastico, and the eye of Shawn Ryan to his growing ‘memorabilia collection’, as he’d called it.

Thanks to him, however, we had a powerful team. Damien Geist joined with us to make our trio four, and we found ourselves dominating all whom we came across.

Soon, however...the lighthouse would loom in the distance, and the clock ticked down to the final day. Only twelve of us left, eleven destined to die...only one left to go home.

A week ago, I’d never have expected to find myself in such a situation, but fate has a funny way of fucking you over...and that’s just what it was about to do again.

Movement on all angles, the four of us awaiting whatever was to come our way.

To the east of our clearing came Inferna, Chris Champion, Jimmy Jett and Scot Anderson, having formed their own little alliance. To the west came the much more intimidating group of Steve Sharp, SiN DoGG, Jacob Kiel and The Saint.

Twelve of us all huddled together in one clearing, as the voice of Tony Bradshaw himself sounded over our collars.

“Well, it would seem that in a strange twist of events, the danger zones have led all of you together...the very clearing you stand on now being the battlefield in which this final war shall rage. You all have one hour left before detonation, I suggest you kill each other quick. Oh yeah, and...good luck.”

The transmission cut short, just as a arrow shot through the air and slammed into Damien Geist’s shoulder. Geist stared down at it in disdain before pulling it out with his hand, watching the Saint as he pulled forth another arrow.

The battle cries sounded...and the war began.

Who would stand among the final fallen? Who would live to tell the legendary tale of Battle Royale? Who would go on and live a scarred and shredded life, forever to be haunted by the screams of their victims?

As much as I want to get off this God forsaken island...apart of me is afraid of what may come after, and whether or not these past 7 days will come back to haunt me in the end.

I suppose there’s only one way to find out, however, and that is to survive. In Battle Royale, it’s kill or be killed...