The narrative of “The Most Dangerous Game” is delivered in a dark, foreboding, and formal tone. Connell’s language in the body of the narrative carefully mirrors the story's disturbing subject matter.
Even before the plot itself reveals Zaroff's true intentions, the dark mood is established through Connell's unsettling metaphors. For example, the story describes the Caribbean water as "blood-warm" and uses violent, aggressive language to describe the environment itself. The sea is a "growling" thing as it breaks onto the shore of the island, for instance, and it "rumbles" and "hisses" below Rainsford as he prepares to escape from Zaroff's hounds. Even when Rainsford discovers Zaroff's chateau—seemingly, at this point in the story, a source of safety and food—the story keeps the reader alert of the island's danger as Rainsford notes that the chateau's towers towers "plunge" (like a knife) into the sky.
All the while, the story retains a formal tone, established most clearly through the dialogue between Zaroff and Rainsford. This formality underscores the deceptively civilized surroundings of Zaroff's home and emphasizes through contrast the true brutality of the general's actions.
Conversations between Zaroff and Rainsford maintain a certain aristocratic tone, driven in large part by Zaroff himself:
We do our best to preserve the amenities of civilization here. Please forgive any lapses. We are well off the beaten track, you know. Do you think the champagne has suffered from its long ocean trip?
The formality of their dialogue is constant throughout the story. Despite the eventually brutal subject matter, Zaroff maintains his eloquence:
Dear me, what a righteous young man you are! I assure you I do not do the thing you suggest. That would be barbarous. I treat these visitors with every consideration. They get plenty of good food and exercise. They get into splendid physical condition. You shall see for yourself tomorrow.
Even Rainsford maintains his composure—and his manners—in the face of his host's horrifying actions. After hearing the general's case for hunting men, Rainsford takes his leave for the evening as polite as could be: "I hope [...] that you will excuse me tonight, General Zaroff. I'm really not feeling well." The consistent formality of these interactions despite the increasing violence and depravity narrative creates a core tension from which Connell derives the creative force of the story.
