The Isolated Chapel

A thin ribbon of smoke rose from the chimney, as the great gaggle of unruly brothers rushed down. They cluthched their bony fingers as a severe bearded figure staggered through the creaky floorboards. Suddenly they all stopped to a holt as the sea of dissaproving faces, behind the bearded man, fixed their eyes on Bernard; just Bernard; nor Herbert or Ricardo... just Bernard.

Full of hatred and embaressment, Bernard felt a gushing sensation flowing down his paralysed torso. He abrubtly realised what he'd done. He did the undoable mentioned the unmentionable and survived the unsurvivable. The crowd gasped with shock like a vampire whispering an icy whisper, as Bernard Shan held the bloodstained dagger with a sense of pride. He had won the games...