Rainsford: A Fictional Narrative

Waking after such terrifying events, Rainsford thought over all that had happened over the past few days on the island with General Zaroff. “How will I ever find Whitney?” thought Rainsford as he stumbled around the chateau in a daze, “Perhaps I can swim to Haiti, I should be close enough and Johnson lives around there.” Johnson was Rainsford’s old childhood friend who had lived 2 blocks away, he moved to Haiti when he became 30, so that he would always be by the sea. Rainsford decided this was a good plan, but instead of swimming he went down by the shore and forged a raft out of coconut tree wood. Leaving the island left Rainsford with many different feelings, mainly sadness, but for some reason he felt like he would be back one day. The

“I’m doing alright Fabiola, a bit tired, but do you know where Johnson I’ve had one heck of a day.” answered Rainsford. “Mr.Johnson, It’s Rainsford!” echoed throughout the marble walls. Johnson came walking down the spiral stairs in his morning suit and his wavy black hair exclaimed “Why hello Rainsford! It has been quite a long time since I saw you last.” “Yes” Rainsford answered “I have a fairly long and confusing story to tell you but first, do you think you could help me find Whitney?” “Of course I don’t see why not, I just hope your story doesn’t involve that dastardly hunting of yours.” A phone call was made to the yacht of Whitney and Rainsford’s location was told to him, Whitney was very relieved and said they would turn around be there as fast as possible. “So” Johnson said “what is your story?” Rainsford was a little bit taken aback by Johnson’s rudeness in his tone, but he explained to him the whole story. Being the ill-minded person he is, Johnson wanted Rainsford to take him back to the island so that he could have the pack of dogs for himself. Rainsford explained that they were vicious and ugly but Johnson didn’t care and was kind of angry that Rainsford would go against him like