This is the result of a brainwave from a couple of days ago. I haven't got much after the initial idea, and would be very appreciative of some feedback / criticism and perhaps some help in fleshing-out details.

The Short Version

King Solomon of Jerusalem creates a contract, in cooperation with an entity that calls itself Baphomet, that brings fortune and prosperity to twelve signees - with the price that they must kill twelve specific, (relatively) innocent women within the year.

Various organizations over the years came into sudden and tremendous power by use of the bargain, and it was passed onward and onward until the present day - where it is bound to the leaders of the G8 countries. The world's industry and economy has become entirely reliant on the bargain, and fulfilling the less than ethical portions of the deal has become more or less mandatory.

Baphomet has become bored with the affair, and now uses those that care about the bargain's victims (as well as some hired guns) to stir-up a whole mess in the affair.

The Long Version

WARNING: The following is not only long, but probably boring and may very well be entirely badly written. I apologize in advance, and won't hold it against you if you press the back button without wading too deep into it.

***

"...Of course I'm sure! It happened right in front of me! His car was just driving through the plaza... there was gunfire... then, Kennedy's head... it just, well... it exploded."

"These are diplomatic papers, ma'am. No, you may not examine the contents of the briefcase. You may examine my identification, if you wish. Then go and get your supervisor."

"Sir Fredstein! Sir Fredstein! Please, sir - I've been dispatched to summon you back to the city. They've found something in the temple... they won't tell me what. But it's urgent that you return with all haste to Jerusalem to lend assistance in it's excavation."

***

Once upon a time, if you will, there was a man named Solomon. A mad and... unstable man. A mad and unstable man whom was also third son of King David of Jerusalem.
King David was in a bit of trouble, and a bit of depression. A 'prophet' who called himself Nathaniel had come, bearing information that David had thought secret (by the will of God, so the prophet claimed), and foretold of his newborn son's death as punishment for the king's misdeeds (involving an adulterous marriage to his present wife, and the murder of her former husband). His son indeed died inside a week. He was so grateful for a third son when he was recieved, and so cherished his existence, that Solomon's more unusual exploits went ignored.
He wrote strange things. Words that didn't make any sense, characters that were from no known language. He wrote them everywhere... graffiti on walls and streets, carvings in the sand... even scratching them into his arms and legs. If Solomon was present when scholars or cardinals visited, some of their scrolls would vanish. He talked to himself... and, sometimes, to people who didn't seem to exist.
Solomon, at the behest of his mother (Lady Bathsheba) and the prophet Nathaniel (yes, the same prophet that gave David the bad news about his prior son), ascended the throne of Jerusalem before his father had even passed away. An older son of David's, Adonijah, attempted to reason with his father as to why he, who had demonstratably much more competence and wordly experience, should succeed him instead of his younger brother - but he was put to death for his 'rebellion'.
For half of his reign, the Hebrew kingdom inexplicably flourished in spite of it's king's blatant and grotesque incompetence. Many held that it was simply due to the work of some excellent aides and advisors. He held a private audience with Hiram I, king of Tyre, and the two forged an alliance out of a secret deal. This was to be the first of many alliances that Solomon would cultivate in such a manner.
A great temple, materials and plans for which had already been set in motion by King Solomon's father, was erected on the summit of Mount Moriah - it's construction taking place over the course of seven years. It went unused for thirteen more, the king refusing to have it consecrated. Rumors whispered here or there suggested that Solomon was making routine visits to the temple, all alone. There was even the occassional suggestion that he spent his time there worshipping - but not worshipping God.
After twenty years had passed under his rule, the Hebrew kingdom began to decline. Many blamed it on Solomon's almost sudden dive into polygamy and various eccentricities... though there was a feeling by many that something else, which they couldn't quite put their finger on (...and which some referred to as 'idol worship'), was behind the decline. King Solomon's rule ended with his death, after fourty years on the throne.

Centuries later, after Jerusalem had seen it's share of wars and exchanges of power, an order of knights breeched the now ancient and disused temple that Solomon had built, intent on establishing it as their base of operations. And within it's lower chambers, they uncovered a terrible answer to the riddle of the bizarre prosperity of an ill-remembered king.
A patchwork scroll, poorly sewn together from maps, letters, deeds, summons and all manner of different royal parchments. It's length seemed impossible... it stretched down stairwells, across halls, on ceilings, through crawlspaces... some guessed that it might be long enough to wrap around the entire summit. All across it's surface was incoherent gibberish, written in latin - and, more importantly, written with a rusty textured ink that could hardly be mistaken for anything other than blood. At the end of the scroll, found in the last room of a catacomb's worth of bowels beneath the temple, was the only readable portion of it's script:

"On this contract a bargain lies,
For twelve covenantees
To bind to their lives.

The ink of these words fades every year
One soul for each line,
And the deal remains clear.

Under this contract know no hurt
I'll give you the world
Show you abundance pert.

Be wary the passing of time
If my text should blur,
Your blood will sharpen it's rhyme."

A messenger was dispatched to the king of Jerusalem. Another was sent from him to the Vatican itself. In under a week, with the discovery blanketed in secrecy, Pope Gelasius II rode into Jarusalem - his visit concealed from the public. After a personal examination of the artifact, the review of a few select scriptures and a discussion with a few personal advisors and prophets, the Pope delcared the artifact to be of great holy significance and a remnant from the rule of the great King Solomon. A gift from God even, perhaps.
The knights who made the discovery were ordered to take down and pack the scroll with all haste, seperating it into smaller portions as necessary... but when they made their attempt, any part of it that they so much as touched disintegrated into a fine powder. Only the last portion seemed to be manageable, and was rolled-up and transported back to rome alongside any of the artifact's witnesses.
The vatican roofed, fed and watered it's new visitors for just under three months, while the discovery was examined, interpreted and argued over. In the end, it was decided that since it was obviously a divine miracle and obviously one of Solomon's many sources of great fortune and prosperity, the Catholic Church's current administration and the artifact's original finders should enter the covenant by signing the contract. Pope Gelasius II outright refused, offering to simply take a vow of silence on the matter and leave it at that. It was signed by seven of the knights and five members of the Church, including Callixtus II - whom would end-up succeeding Gelasius as pope in a year's time.
The moment all twelve names were on the scroll, twelve more appeared - one beside each line of it's poem. The advisors in favor of having the contract signed shrugged them off as 'Souls who needed to be sent to God. Possibly for judgement', and suggested that they were the names of criminals and heretics that needed to be found and executed.
All of the convenantees were awarded the prosperity they were promised. The knights formed an order known as 'The Knights of the Temple', which became better known as 'The Knights Templar'. They used their good fortune to purchase influence... which they could then use to track down those that were named by the bargain. They never seemed to be far out of reach.
For over two centuries, the Church and Knights Templar kept their secret bond afloat - passing spots for signatures down from generation to generation. Things came to a head in 1303, when the grand masters of the knights called an emergency assembly with Pope Boniface VIII. They refused to continue the charade. It was quite plain from the very first time that any of the bargain's named parties were found that they were not being sent to hunt down criminals; all of the individuals that had ever been named were young girls; not always entirely innocent, or even Catholic - but never people who had earned themselves an execution. No more would be killed by their hands.
The bargain didn't waver on it's opposing end of the deal. When none of the girls were killed, it's words began to fade. Then, in 1307, fatal tragedy befell anyone who's name was on the parchment (including Pope Boniface VIII himself) - and the Knights Templar, as an organization, began to implode.
The Church sealed-away the bargain, and aggressively covered-up any information related to it. Of course, this didn't stop an enterprising cardinal from stealing it while everyone was busy wiping it from their memory, and taking an extended trip to see some colleagues in political places.

And now we take the long leap forward that leads us into today. A present that is largely signed-over in it's entirety to the bargain.
Prosperity is at an all-time high (...Well, at least as an overall global 'average'). The leaders of the world's eight super powers, 'The Group of Eight' (more commonly known as the 'G8') take-up most of the signatures, while figureheads of the juggernauts in key industrial fields such as automobile manufacturing, oil and energy production, telecommunications and national defense are provided the rest. International cooperation makes finding the twelve girls assigned to the bargain each year a laughable matter. The moral ramifications? 'The Lucky Ladies' have been deemed more than acceptable collateral damage in light of perpetual prosperity for the core of the civilized world's economic power. It's only a dozen people once a year, afterall.
Of course, there are some who don't quite share the same sentiments (that is, once they've been brought up to speed with the world's mechanics). And there are those that have been sent to help them.

***

If I were to call our current state of affairs a game, and I am, there would be three teams of players everyone would fit into: The Needy, The Deserving and The Wanting.

The Needy
Bluntly put, in it's current state, the world needs the bargain. This isn't a matter of greed; without the amount of production and fortune it's covenantees enjoy, the global economy will collapse. Demand, due to the world's raw population, is simply too high.
So, we have The Needy - those in need of the bargain's influence to maintain the balance of the world (...as well as keep themselves, you know, alive). With the leaders of eight major powers on board, there's room for an idealist to get themselves consumed here or there; but the overall outlook is (and must be) steadfast devotion to holding-up their end of the bargain. Secret service agencies carry-out the actual dirty work, of course, and the killings are usually scheduled to be taken care of within a scheduled month (though the actual dates are known to fluctuate from year to year, based on convenience).
They share a perspective that the maintenance of the world at large, the health of the economy and the growth of the civilized world are well worth the small price of a proportionately small morally reprehensible act.

The Deserving
Some individuals seem to just have bad luck. They tend to be introverted, perhaps suffer from a psychological or physical ailment or quirk... and they lead very lonely, rather depressed lives. These are the sort of people that wind-up playing for The Deserving.
They're almost always just caught in the middle of the grander scheme. They haven't a clue what's going-on (not to say that they aren't politically aware or don't keep-up with current events; they just aren't aware of the bargain and it's related secrets), and wouldn't be anymore a player in this game than the next person - except for one fact: they want what the needy need.
You can boil affection and love down to whatever you like, but for The Deserving, there's little else to live for. More importantly, they tend to live very commendable lives, and might very well make something far greater of themselves... but only if...
They've never had the courage to approach their special someone, of course - but simply knowing who it is shoves them onto the playing field rather forcefully. They almost always cross the paths of The Needy, if only unintentionally, and hold a special place in the hearts of our next team...

The Wanting
Now, here's an interesting little tid-bit: when Solomon was busy talking with imaginary friends and writing illegible nonsense, he wasn't actually doing either of those things. He was corresponding with Baphomet (...arguably, something a few steps further into lunacy).
Baphomet is an entity that feeds on the karmic energies people experience as they die, producing the karmic energies associated with good fortune as a byproduct. Make no mistake: this is an evil creature, who delights in the most carnal behavior of mortals and is at it's most sour when things are wonderful and balanced.
The bargain was drafted as a collaborative effort between Solomon and Baphomet, as a supposed 'win-win' deal. Solomon got wealthy and prosperous, while Baphomet was guaranteed a helping of angst and death (no matter what the results of the bargain). Things were good for a millenia or so, even when the occassional idealist came along (or when someone got weary, as Solomon eventually did). But then Baphomet got bored. He wanted to make a game out of this while he was at it. So he did.
The Wanting are recruits from the denizens of Baphomet's plane of existence, commonly referred to as the netherworld, whom are manifest into the mortal plane to seek-out The Deserving and help them rescue their should-be girlfriends from The Needy. The clashes, confounded emotions, terror and heroics fill Baphomet's plate with more than enough fun. At least for now.

I haven't had the longer version edited, so I'm a tad fearful that it's a bunch of awful garbage in it's current state. It's just the overall premise that I'm into.

Effectively, I envision a 'hide & seek' sort of game, with players trying to track down our fair ladies and then either give chase (in the event that the player group has chosen to be members of government agencies sent to execute the girls), evade pursuit and find places to hide while also trying to find the rest of the imperiled ladies (in the event that player group has chosen to be folks emotionally attached to said ladies), and / or protect the girls from harm and bring everyone together & up to speed on the situation (in the event that the player group has chosen to be Baphomet's hired goons). I also envision great big games featuring multiple player groups, each representing one of the different sides to the story, perhaps seperated into different rooms to keep their movements and greater ambitions secret from the others.

Thoughts?