Zaroff walked out to the hounds in the yard, he lost the rock paper scissors contest and as such had to feed them. Sat down next to them he cut pieces of meat from his last hunt before Rainsford, feeding them to the dogs.
Looking at his island he felt proud, he had made it and he had gotten away with it for quite a long while. And when Rainsford leaves it most probably will go down in flames. Perhaps even literally.
He knew what he'd done and people's opinions of it, he didn't quite understand why he thought Rainsford would be different. Maybe because he's a hunter as well, maybe just because of admiration.
In truth, Rainsford was a rather handsome gentleman. He was nothing like what Zaroff had expected him to be. When he thought of what Rainsford would be like in person, while reading his books, he expected someone who seemed more... more vicious and cruel. Rainsford was the exact opposite. He was soft, it seemed.
Zaroff sighed, going back into his home, leaving the dogs to eat what was left of their food. He could feel how tired he truly was now, and suddenly, he almost wished he hadn't offered Rainsford the bed.
He walked upstairs, opening the door to the bedroom. Rainsford lay on the bed, fast asleep, with the blanket tucked around him. The moonlight from the window shone off his face, and he looked rather peaceful as he slept.
He approached his bed quietly and for a couple of moments observed Rainsford a while more. Oh what will happen in the morning, Zaroff thought to himself as he climbed in beside the sleeping man. He had other beds and rooms of course but this was his and he was going to sleep in it whether Rainsford appreciated it in the morning or not. probably not.
Again letting his mind wander he thinks about his life without hunting, and oh how dreadfully terrible it would be. Without the hunt what's my purpose, nothing I suppose. Though before his hopes got too low he remembered he still has a whole other day to try and convince Rainsford his way of hunting is superior.
Perhaps he'll convince Rainsford to hunt, or at least watch as he hunts. Zaroff wonders how Rainsford would react to such a thing, the act of putting the swine out of their short-lived misery after a shot only just missed the point aimed for.
Perhaps he would take joy knowing the person cant suffer anymore, or perhaps horror at the waning glimpses of life in someone's eyes.
At that Zaroff finally let himself fall asleep for the night, awaiting the morning with glee.
I'm unsure if I'll continue this or not. I'm writing it with a friend on Quotev(named the same) and it was originally an English assignment so.