You don’t know me…or do you? Maybe we’ve met before, and you never realized that you were in the presence of a predator. Oh, but I smelled blood in the water. It just wasn’t the time or place for carnage.

They say that most people encounter an average of six serial killers or murderers in their lifetime. I can confirm that you’ve encountered one for certain.

Maybe I was the waiter who brought the latte to your table last week. Or maybe I was the waitress who delivered your cheeseburger and fries. The bug guy who sprayed your house for roaches? That could have been me. Perhaps, I was standing in line behind you at the supermarket, listening to the erratic beating of your heart, watching your pulse jump in your throat, imagining what it might be like to open that crimson fount and bathe in the red. Or maybe I’m your neighbor. You know, the one you never speak to.

We encounter an average of 40 new faces per day. Maybe I’m one of those that you saw yesterday. Or maybe I’m one of the 40 from today. There are so many possibilities of who I could be.

Now that I think about it, it’s a certainty that we do know each other. We have met. I remember you. You just may not remember me.

Without further ado, let me introduce myself. My name is…oh, I gotcha there. You thought I was really going to tell you. That would make this too easy.

Let’s just say that I’m an apex predator and you, along with 11 others are my prey. I hunt the dregs of society for sport, and I do it with a smile on my face and a spring in my step.

Humans are the ultimate big game animal, and I am the one who claims all the trophies. But, I’ve grown bored of the normal hunt, which is why I came up with this idea. Maybe it would be an adrenaline rush if I were to be the prey for once, located firmly in the center of someone else’s crosshairs. That someone is you.

I am sending you 24 photos. Some of these will be the victims I will take over the next 11 weeks. One of the others might be a photo of me, if you’re clever enough to determine which one I am. I will hunt one new victim a week and add a trophy to my wall. The 12th trophy will be you if you fail to determine my identity.

So, what do you say? Let’s make a sport of this, shall we? Every Friday I will drop a letter in the mail to you detailing that week’s kill. It will be up to you to determine which of the people in the photographs was murdered for sport and which photo (if any) you can eliminate as a potential suspect based on clues derived from my correspondence. I will include some additional things along with my letter each week to give you a sporting chance. After all, this won’t be any fun if you don’t at least have reasonable odds to bag your prey.

For the next three months, you and I will do this dance as hunter and hunted. Sometimes, I will lead. Other times, I will follow. At the end, blood will be spilled. Either mine or yours. Oh, yes, so much blood! Let’s see if the fox can outsmart the hound. Or perhaps the hound will prevail.

Let the games begin.

Delightfully yours,

Mr. Hunt