by Matt Shaw
Richard had been the last housemate to walk in but - unlike those who went before him - he did not make it into the main house, only the corridor. The first door locked behind him and the second door remained shut; the now familiar red illumination around it.
“We thought it was a joke, a twisted little set-up to make us feel uncomfortable from the get go. The producers said things would be twisted…They warned us before we signed on the dotted line to become official housemates.”
“I know.”
“So what if it was real? And what if what happened out there - to Morgan - what if that was real too?”
“He just choked on his cereal and - as you said - what happened on Day One was just to rattle us a bit. Probably increase viewing figures. It wouldn’t surprise me if we have to go through the same thing when we are evicted. Think about it - we didn’t see him get crushed did we - the cameras cut to black and sound effects were played through the speakers of bones being crushed. Easily staged.”
“Why are we locked in here?” Kate was standing at the door, rattling it despite knowing it wouldn’t encourage the producers to open it any sooner. “What are they doing out there?”
Paul looked over to Kate and called out to her that, “They need to help him, don’t they? These things take time. I’m sure they’ll let us out and tell us what is happening as soon as they know themselves.”
Kate was a fiery redhead. At twenty-three years old she thought the world revolved around her and - as a result - had a temper on her which was quick to flare up over the silliest of things. The last thing Paul needed now, both on a personal level and thinking about the other housemates too, was Kate kicking off for whatever reason.
“This is bullshit! Why waste time locking us in here when they could have just come in and helped right from the get go? They might have been able to save him,” what Kate was saying was true but the way she said it - the tone she used - wasn’t helping. If anything it would simply rile up the other housemates until they were all kicking off again.
“Shut up for fuck sake!” Philip shouted out from the corner of the room. He was on his way back to his bed, having come from the en-suite bathroom.
“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Karen was on the bed next to him being comforted by Jordy who was also struggling to hold back the tears. Neither girl particularly liked Morgan, mutual feelings shared by the other housemates, but none of them had wanted to see him dead. They wanted to watch him die even less. That’s the kind of thing you do not get over.
“Seriously - you two can shut the fuck up too. He’s dead. Big fucking deal. Get over it. None of you liked him. If you had - he wouldn’t have been up for nomination this week. You got what you wanted, albeit in a roundabout way, he’s out of the fucking house.” Philip continued. He wasn’t raising his voice, he wasn’t getting irritated. If anything - he seemed to be the calmest of the group.
Jordy hissed, “Who are you?” It took a lot to annoy Jordy but Philip was managing it with ease. Philip had been quiet all week and now, twice within a short period of time, he had said something which shocked his fellow housemates. Two uncalled for outbursts.
“Who am I? I’m the one being practical. None of you liked him. He was irritating. We all wanted him gone today. Well - guess what - he’s gone! And good riddance too. One less going for the one hundred grand.”
“Just stop talking!” Jordy said. She turned her attention back to consoling Karen.
Jack was still talking to Paul, “When I went for the audition process - the presenter guy they had there, running around being a dick to the applicants, he joked about giving me the prize money if I offed the guy sitting beside me.”
“What did you say?”
“I didn’t. He said he was joking and left us. But it’s been a week and so far two of us are dead.”
“One of us is dead. The other was staged. It’s just poor timing, that’s all. You saw, Morgan was getting himself wound up. He choked on the food he was cramming down his throat…”
“He was coughing up blood. I’ve never seen someone choking do that before now.”
“Seen a lot of people choke?”
“I just have a bad feeling about this.”
“It’ll be fine. We just need to sit tight and wait to hear from The Controller, or the producers. That’s it. Nothing else we can do.”
“Guys, can I have some help, please?” Jordy called over from the bed where she was still comforting Karen. Paul and Jack glanced over at the sound of urgency in her tone of voice. “I can’t calm her down, she’s hyperventilating.”
Paul hurried over to the bed where Karen was having a panic attack.
Stuart jumped up and joined him, “Have we got a carrier bag or something?” he asked. His First Aid training coming into play.
B E F O R E
K A R E N R E E V E S
Karen was standing in front of a small group of people, all of them wearing stickers on their tops introducing themselves to everyone else in the room. The group itself was a mixed bag of people of varied ethnic backgrounds and ages. In front of the group was a desk where three official people were sitting and - to the side of them - a fourth person operating a large camera sitting on a tripod.
Each person had been instructed to talk about themselves for no more than three minutes. There was no clock in the room, they just had to keep going until they thought the time was up. The rest of the group were told to listen so they could ask questions at the end of the three minutes; a simple process where they simply raised their hands in the air until invited to speak by one of the three people sitting at the front of the room.
So far the process had proven to be fairly brutal. It was hard enough talking about yourself for three minutes, if you weren’t expecting to do so, but the hardest part were the questions. Everyone in the room wanted to make themselves look good and stand out from the others. To do so they all tried to run the ‘speakers’ down by pulling apart what they had said.
Karen had finished introducing herself. She touched upon the fact she was at college, she touched upon what she wanted to do with her life, she told the group that she was a lesbian and that she had been adopted at an early age after her mother and father were killed in a car crash; the final snippet of information she had had no intention of saying when she had first stood up. It had just slipped out of her mouth as her panicked brain ran out of things to say.
“Any questions?” she asked.
Her heart was beating so hard she thought she was going to vomit right onto the floor.
“Don’t you think eighteen is a little young to decide you’re a lesbian?” one large man asked.
“No.” Karen squirmed, uncomfortable at the question. She didn’t know what else to say.
“Maybe you just haven’t had the right man,” the man continued. A young lad, late teens, sitting on the man’s right started to snigger as he realised where this was going. “If you want to try again - with a real man - I’d be happy to oblige you. I mean, for a fee of course.” The young lad laughed harder. A few others in the small group raised a smile too.
Karen’s face suddenly lit up as though possessed for a moment, “I’m pretty sure - you’re the reason lesbians exist in the first place,” she said. The group, with the exception of the man who had challenged her, laughed.
He continued, “And what’s with the sob story about your folks?” he pushed. “You going for the sympathy vote?” No laughter from the group. Even that was a question too far for them.
“The same way you’re going for the Special Needs vote with your dress sense?” Karen turned to the youth sitting next to the man, “As his Carer, I think it might be a good idea if you keep him under control a little better,” she said.
One of the three at the front stepped in, “Okay, thank you, if you’d like to take a seat.”
Karen didn’t wait for a rebuttal from the man, or the lad sitting with him, and took her seat back amongst the group. The next person stood up a
nd took centre stage. Karen settled in her chair and breathed a sigh of relief. Her comebacks surprised even her but she found it hard to put the man’s comments from her mind. She glanced over to the man and the expression on his face revealed his annoyance at being made to look stupid. The faint smile on the face of one of the three, at the front, suggested they enjoyed the back and forth between Karen and the man. She smiled and started to relax into it. This wasn’t her - the girl who answered back - but if it’s what the producers wanted then she’d give them exactly that.
N O W
Karen was sitting on the bed. Jordy was by her side still. Stuart had a paper bag in his hands and was encouraging Karen to breathe deeply and slowly into it in an effort to calm her down.
“And in, and out…” Stuart instructed her.
Jordy was rubbing her back - more so out of offering comfort than really doing anything else to help. By now the other housemates had crowded around her too, despite Paul telling them to give her some space. The only housemate to listen to his order was Philip. It wasn’t so much he was listening to what Paul was saying, but more to do with the fact he had yet to move from his bed as though he were completely unfazed by what was going on around him.
“This is ridiculous. Why are we locked in here? They should just cancel the whole show,” Kate suggested.
Philip laughed, “This is the show. Why would they cancel it? This is the best footage they’ve had for ages. Imagine the viewing numbers. They’ll be through the roof when this gets aired.”
“That’s just sick. They won’t show this. They can’t.”
“Did you read your contracts? You are aware you basically signed away the rights to your soul for this, right? Trust me - they’ll be showing all of this.”
“Feeling better?” Stuart pulled the bag away from Karen who nodded in response to his question. “Good.”
“I want to go home,” she whimpered.
“Well you can always ask them,” Stuart said.
“Please…There’s only one way we leave here.” Philip spat, under his breath.
“This is The Controller! Can all housemates gather on the sofas!” the voice boomed over the intercom system throughout the house. Before the voice had finished giving it’s instruction, the red light illuminating the locked door switched to a light shade of green to signal the door had been unlocked. The voice repeated itself before anyone had a chance to move, “This is The Controller! Can all housemates gather on the sofas!”
“Now what?” Fiona walked through to the sitting room and sat on one of the sofas - three long sofas laid out in a U shape with a small coffee table in the centre. The rest of the group joined her.
Georgia nodded towards the dining table, “They’ve moved him.”
The group all looked in the direction of where they had left Morgan’s body. He was gone, along with any trace of what had happened.
“Look!” Chris pointed to the wall behind one of the sofas. The wall had thirteen screens across it laid out as two rows of six with a larger plasma screen above the two rows. Each screen had a picture of one of the members of the group and all had a green hue about them except for both Richard’s screen and Morgan’s. They had a red hue and, under their faces, the words ELIMINATED. The larger of the screens - the one above the two rows - flickered into life revealing Philip sitting in The Control Room; a small room with a single chair in it which pointed towards a camera to ensure the occupant was always facing (and talking to) the screen.
“What is this?” Philip asked. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the knowledge of what was coming. The rest of the group glanced at him. Under other circumstances they would have - perhaps - been smiling at his embarrassment as they wondered what he was about to do on screen which would result in it getting shown to the rest of the house. With recent events though, none of them found themselves grinning and all were suspicious.
“Housemates, tonight is a double elimination!”
“What the hell is going on?” Jack asked.
B E F O R E
D A Y S I X
Philip made himself comfortable in the large chair, facing the camera. He looked suspicious immediately. His sixth day in the house and first time called into The Control Room with no reason he could see.
In front of him - between the chair and the camera - was a small table just in the shot of the camera. A small vial, filled with some kind of clear liquid, caught his eye.
“Hello, Philip.”
“Hi,” Philip turned his attention away from the vial and looked up to the camera as though trying to form a connection with whoever was talking to him.
“As you are aware tomorrow is the day of the first Elimination.”
“Yes.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” he replied. “I mean - obviously - I don’t want to go yet. It’s only been a week. I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer to see how crazy things are going to get but…Yeah…I know things happen for a reason so…I’m ready.”
“How would you like to potentially save yourself for one more week?”
“Go on…”
“In front of you is a small vial…”
“Yes…”
“If you can slip the contents of that vial - unnoticed - to either Morgan, Paul, Stuart or Fiona…You will be safe from the first elimination.”
Philip smiled, “Okay.”
There was brief moment of silence. Philip laughed nervously.
“Who would you like to drink the vial?” asked The Controller.
Without hesitation Philip nominated, “Morgan.” He took a moment to reflect before putting forward his reasons, “The guy is annoying. I mean - I know he is supposed to rile people up but, even so, he’s doing my head in. The sooner he goes out the better. It’s him or me. Hell, if I can’t get him to drink the contents - I’ll drink them myself…” he laughed and picked the vial up off the table.
“Thank you, Philip, and - remember - none of your other housemates are to know about this or there will be serious repercussions.”
Philip nodded and slipped the vial into his trouser pocket before leaving the room. He walked down the stairs, back towards the main part of the house, aware that the cameras were following him.
N O W
The group were stunned into silence. The television screen went blank before switching off completely. Slowly every one turned their attention to Philip who was squirming uncomfortably on his sofa. Those who were sitting near him seemed to slowly edge a little further away from him.
“Housemates, thanks to Philip, Morgan has been eliminated but as you are aware - tonight is a double elimination…”
A small panel on the coffee table slid open to reveal a small hole. Slowly a perplex box rose up out of it; a handgun sitting on a stand within the box.
“…And who goes is up to you…”
“What the fuck is going on?” Kate shouted.
“You killed him?!” Paul’s attention was firmly fixed on Philip.
“It was a task! I didn’t know what was in the vial!”
“When? When did you do it?” Paul carried on.
“I want to go home! Please! Let me go home!” Karen was staring up to one of the many cameras on the ceiling.
Jack was muttering under his breath, “I was right… They want us to eliminate each other for real!” Jack stood up and addressed the group, “It’s okay - they want us to eliminate each other so all we have to do is not play their game. Go on a strike until they let us out. It’s fine! We are in control here, not them. We just need to…”
The Controller’s voice boomed out of the purpose-built home’s intercom system, “Housemates, you need to make your nomination within the next two minutes or severe punishments will be issued!”
Karen was crying whilst the other girls just looked nervous and confused. Paul had not taken his attention off Philip who was staring at the gun, the finger of his left hand twitching as though he wanted to make a move fo
r it.
“This is ridiculous! They can’t get away with this! They’ll be shut down!” Chris was looking at the camera - his mind wondering what sort of sick son of a bitch would be running a show like this. More to the point, what kind of sick fuck would be watching - an answer to which he found depressing when he realised thousands of people would watch this, if only out of morbid curiosity.
“We just need to stay calm and stick together,” Jack continued, “they’re not in charge. They may think they are but we’re the ones who have the power. We’re the ones…”
Paul grabbed the lid of the box and threw it off. By the time it crashed to the floor, he had the handgun in his hands. The girls screamed whilst Stuart and Chris dove for cover. Before anyone else had a chance to react, Paul pulled the trigger six times - the barrel aimed directly at Philip. Each bullet tore a hole through Philip’s chest. By the time Paul had finished firing, Philip was dead. His body slumped to the side before slipping off the sofa.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Stuart yelled from behind the sofa.
The picture of Philip on the wall of photographs switched to red. The words ELIMINATED appeared underneath.
“All housemates must return to the bedroom immediately.”
“If I hadn’t killed him, he would have killed us. You saw the footage. He killed Morgan,” Paul started to defend his actions. “I did it for all of us. Can you honestly say you trusted him? Even before what we saw on the tape…”
“All housemates must return to the bedroom immediately.”
Paul continued, “What you said is right - we need to stick together. We can’t when we have someone like that in the group…No one was safe…”
“I just want to go home,” Karen was whining again and - once again - Jordy was comforting her.