Trophies

Somewhere between the water buffalo and the ibex, you lost track of just how many stuffed and mounted animal species you’d seen. Somewhere between the snow leopard and the Yag-Kosha, you lost track of what was an animal and what was a chimera. The lamplight flickering through the ceiling fans on the wooden beams adds to the disorienting effect of the tangles of antlers and tusks and tentacles.

If this sounds like the beginning scene of yet another version of “The Most Dangerous Game,” it is. But unlike so many versions of the story where the protagonists outwit or out-deus-ex-machina their way out of the situation, this does not end well for you.

You will be hunted. You will be killed. And your head will join the trophies.