These guys at my high school play "King of Pain". Have you heard of it? Is it popular? Cause things are getting very serious, very fast.

So I go to a high school close to Raleigh, NC. It's not a huge school compared to some others, but it certainly isn't small. I'm in my junior year and it's all been a pretty standard experience, I think. I don't do drugs, I don't drink, I don't have a girlfriend. Playing my cards just right, I tell myself when I'm sad. Anyways, some dude in my AP Calculus class mentioned that he's gotten into a 'pretty big game', and when I asked him about it (being an avid video game player myself), he told he it was called King of Pain. And it isn't a video game.

His name is James, he's a senior. Football player, ladies man. . . very different from me. But he's smart, super smart, and never causes any drama. So I figure he's pretty trustworthy. He tells me that he just started playing King of Pain in the last week with a couple of other guys from our school. Someone at a party introduced them to it and they've been hooked on it. I ask him what it's about.

"A King is chosen, by Divine Right." he laughs, realizing the way that sounded. "Game terms, of course." he adds.

"What's the King do?"

"All the King does is see how long he can keep his throne."

"How does he do that?"

James eyes lit up, and he once again laughed. He almost seemed embarrassed by the fact he was so into something that sounded this silly. "He takes it, man." After saying this, James reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. I waited politely as he scrolled through screens and found what he was looking for. A picture. He handed me the phone.

"What the hell?" I was looking at a photo of a deep wound, a stab it looked like, on someone's forearm.

"He's doing pretty good so far." James took the phone back and smiled.

"I don't understand. That's the King? Is that real?"

"Yes."

"Who is he?"

James grinned wider and rolled up his sleeve. The wound was still there, in the midst of the healing process. It did not appear to have been attended to.

"James, man, that's not okay. We're gonna need to tell someone."

After hearing this, James grabbed my arm, his grip instantly shooting pain up past my elbow. "No, don't." His eyes met mine, unwavering.

"Dude, you're hurting me."

"I'll lose. I can't lose." James let go, but kept his eyes on mine. "Don't make me lose."

I was of course unsettled, and decided that I would tell someone anyway, because not to do so would be idiotic. There was clearly some bizarre sort of hazing going on, and James could be in danger of harming himself further. I contacted the school's guidance counselor and told him everything I knew. He said he'd look into it.

James wasn't at school for the rest of the week. I stared at his empty seat in Calculus and hoped he was okay. I checked social media, but he wasn't very prevalent on there, so I learned nothing. I asked around but no one had heard from him. I got the impression some of the guys I talked to were lying, though. It didn't matter anyway, because last Tuesday, we were all informed that James had killed himself.

I didn't want to let anyone know how upset I was. They might think I was milking this guy's tragic passing for my own gain. I didn't know him that well at all. But I had spoken to him just before he did it. I had seen something was wrong. And he told me not to tell anyone. He asked me not to make him lose.

I skipped school Wednesday, feeling sick to my stomach about the whole thing. Our counselor never contacted me with any answers. I'm not sure anyone knew why he did it. Except for the other players, who I didn't know the identities of.

I'm posting here as a therapy of sorts. And because I need advice.

I found a note in my locker on Friday. It was an invitation to play King of Pain. It read:

"Come and witness the crowning of a new King. Come and build the throne. Come and see what becomes of you. All pain is temporary."

It was signed by someone named Devon Wright. I quickly made the connection to the phrasing "Divine Right" that James had used. The rest of the note was basic instructions: use a pen to leave a single line on my locker door on Monday, and they'd contact me again.

I shouldn't. It would be the stupidest thing I've ever done. But I want justice for James. With just a little more info, maybe I can get the police to shut the whole thing down.

Do you guys know anything about King of Pain? What should I do?