The old woman let her pale lips stretch into an ugly scowl. She shook her head and looked off camera. “I couldn’t afford to run the house on my own so I had to sell it. It was the only part of George I had left. At first I was going to use the money to place myself in a nice little nursing home, but I decided that without my George there was little point being ‘comfortable’ as my life was already over. I opted to go into a state care home, where the conditions are of course much poorer. I’ve been here for more than ten years now. I’m an old woman; a lonely, bitter woman. But I kept the money from the house for a rainy day. I’m finally putting it to good use.
I hope the money was worth it, Sarah, because this is the price you are paying for your selfish ways. You were a bad daughter to your wonderful father and I hope that when you die, you go to a far different place than him.”
The screen went black. The silhouettes reappeared. Ten shadows were left. Ten words yet to find owners. The THIEF and the THUG were dead. Who would be next?
5
It had taken a good part of an hour for Sarah to die. The blood that pumped from her wrist seemed to go on forever. They tried to staunch it, by wrapping her arm tightly with a belt from Damien’s luggage, but it had only delayed the inevitable. The tourniquet was just a band aid on a deep and critical wound.
During this time, while Sarah lay dying on the floor, not a single person had tried to enter the house. No one had offered medical attention or even acknowledged the incident at all. Now, more than ever, the housemates realised that someone wanted them dead and that no help was coming. All they had now was each other, and yet they were also enemies in a game that had become about life and death.
The only reason the cameras were there was to capture their suffering.
Nobody knew what to do with Sarah’s body so they left her on the kitchen tiles for the time being. Lewis seemed the most upset by her loss, but only marginally. Obviously, there was only so much they could care about one another after only a few days. It was clear that Lewis had lost an ally, though, and right now allies were extremely valuable.
“HOUSEMATES. DUE TO SARAH’S EARLY ELIMINATION FROM THE HOUSE, THE NEXT MOST VOTED-FOR HOUSEMATES WILL PARTICPATE IN THE HEAD TO HEAD TASK. ALONG WITH HOUSEMATE DAMIEN, BOTH LEWIS AND DANNI WILL NOW COMPETE. PLEASE STAND BY TO ENTER THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER.”
“That ain’t fair,” said Lewis.
“Just deal with it,” said Richard. There was a smirk on his face. “Everybody gotta go sometime.”
Lewis glared at him. “Dude, what is your goddamn problem with me?”
“I just don’t like people like you.”
“People like me? What…you mean because I’m black?”
Richard leant back against the rear of the sofa and smiled calmly.
Lewis shook his head and sighed. “Man, that ain’t cool. Maybe you didn’t get the memo, but the world moved on.”
“Don’t talk down to me, nig-”
Lewis squared right up to the bigger man. “Now I know you weren’t about to say what I think you were about to say.”
Richard laughed. He wouldn’t look Lewis in the eye, almost as if he couldn’t bear to.
Lewis stiffened. “Look at me, you racist piece of shit.”
Richard shoved Lewis away from him and then swung his fist. He punched Lewis on the jaw and sent him reeling to the ground. Less than a second later, the larger man was stamping on Lewis’s head. Over and over again.
The sound was sickening.
Damien leapt across the room, tackling Richard to the ground and climbing on top of him.
Richard looked up at Damien and grinned. “My problem ain’t with you, brother, so get the hell off me.”
Damien shook his head in disgust and got up off the man, but he made sure to stand between him and Lewis. Lewis was lying on his side, dazed and moaning. A trickle of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth and from his nose.
Damien glared at Richard, but the man seemed proud of his actions. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
“Just looking out for my country. Apes and ragheads have no place in a Christian land.”
“You’re no Christian,” said Danni. “You’re a goddamn caveman.”
“You’ll thank me one day, sweetheart. If we let them take over then we’ll be speaking monkey and living in holes in the ground by the end of the decade.”
“HOUSEMATES, THE DOOR TO THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER IS NOW OPEN. DAMIEN, DANNI, AND LEWIS, ENTER IMMEDIATELY.”
Lewis was still on the floor and moaning. Jules was crouched down beside him, trying to rouse him.
Damien looked up and addressed The Landlord. “We need a minute. Lewis is hurt.”
“ENTER NOW OR YOUR BRACELETS WILL ACTIVATE. ALL THREE OF YOU WILL DIE.”
Damien huffed and looked at Danni. She seemed equally as frustrated. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “Come on, let’s try and carry him inside. We’ll help him through it.”
They went and grabbed Lewis under the armpits. They managed to get him up into a sitting position when they saw that his left eye was bloodshot and closed over – either from Richard’s fist or from his stamping boot.
That guy is going to pay for this.
With an awkward heave they managed to get Lewis on his feet. Thankfully he was conscious and managed to stand more or less on his own, but he was extremely groggy and disorientated. They had to steer him towards the door at the far end of the living area to keep him from wandering off.
“I’ll get the door,” said Danni, leaving Damien to hold onto Lewis on his own.
“Racist motherfucker,” Lewis mumbled, leaning his weight against Damien. “Gonna…gonna kick his ass once I get this over with. Once I get this over with. Once I… Gonna kick his ass once I get this over with.”
Damien looked at Lewis and noticed that the guy’s pupils were different sizes. Damien was no doctor, but he guessed it was concussion or maybe something even more serious. Whatever damage had been inflicted by Richard’s beating would no doubt affect Lewis’s performance in whatever task lay ahead of them. It was totally unfair.
But neither Danni nor I are responsible. We just have to do whatever it takes to save our own backsides.
I’ll do my best to help him, but whatever happens to Lewis is beyond our control.
Danni held the door open and Damien helped Lewis pass through it. Once again Damien was faced with the stark-white cube room. Chris’s body was no longer there. Someone had obviously come and moved him.
A clean-up crew.
How many people are working here? Just the guys in the eyeball jumpers? Or are there more? What about the guy in the black overalls? Is he The Landlord?
In the centre of the room this time was a large iron casket, standing upright and about six foot high. The front of the casket was heavily rusted and had an opening in the middle about the size of a sheet of A4 paper. There seemed to be something inside, attached to the back wall.
“HOUSEMATES, THIS IS A TOTAL ELIMINATION TASK. IT IS ALL OR NOTHING. IF ALL OF YOU SUCCEED, ALL OF YOU LIVE. IF ALL OF YOU FAIL, ALL OF YOU DIE.”
Damien exchanged a glance with Danni. The chance that they all might live was somewhat of a relief, but the ominous cabinet in the middle of the room gave them little cause for hopeful thinking.
Lewis didn’t even seem to realise what was going on. He was slumped up against the wall by the door they had entered through. He was muttering nonsense to himself.
“HOUSEMATES, YOUR TASK IS TO PRESS THE BUTTON AT THE BACK OF THE CABINET. IT IS THAT SIMPLE. GOOD LUCK.”
Damien stared into the hole of the cabinet and noticed the big red button inside. It was no different to the emergency buttons you found at the bottom of escalators to halt them during an accident.
“We just have to press the button?” said Danni. “Seems a little simple.”
Damien breathed out through his nostrils. “Yeah.”
Then a whirring sound filled the room and they all
saw the true nature of the task. Inside the casket, a pair of metal fan blades began spinning in opposite directions. They passed rhythmically over the gap in the middle of the casket, making access to the button perilous if ill-timed.
Danni groaned. “God, we’re going to lose our arm if we stick it in there.”
“Not necessarily,” said Damien. He was paying close attention to the whomp whomp of the passing blades. “They’re not spinning that fast. There’s a perhaps a second – maybe a little less – where the gap is clear. If we time it just right, we should be able to press the button and get our arm back out before the blades catch us.”
“I’m sure it’s not as easy as you make it sound.”
Damien took a long swallow. “I’ll go first.”
He approached the casket and the spinning blades. His eyes fell on the thick rust stains that surrounded the enclosure, but he quickly realised that they were something else.
Bloodstains!
Does that mean that people have been here before? Have there been other victims going through this in the past?
What is this place?
Damien could feel the cool air rushing from the blades. Whomp whomp whomp!
He took a deep breath and tried to sync his inhalations and exhalations with the spinning of the blades. He was still sure that there was a brief window between each crossing where a person could get their hand in and out.
He breathed in.
He breathed out.
In…
Out.
In…
Out.
Whomp whomp whomp.
Damien inched his hand closer. Close enough that he could feel the vibrations of the air on his fingertips. The button at the back of the closet seemed tantalisingly close. The task seemed so simple. But the timing was imperative.
Whomp whomp whomp.
Breathe in….
Breathe out.
His fingers inched closer.
Come on. I can do this. Just pay attention to the blades.
Whomp whomp whomp.
Damien jabbed his hand forward like the head of an uncoiling viper. His fingertips hit hard against the rubbery plastic of the button.
He yanked his arm back.
Whomp!
The fans continued spinning. Damien’s arm was still attached. He was panting like he’d just run a marathon.
“CONGRATULATIONS, DAMIEN. YOU HAVE PASSED THIS TASK.”
Damien took in a relieved gasp of air. “Thank God for that.”
“Guess, I’m next,” said Danni. By the nervous twang of her voice, it was clear that she was not confident.
“Just take a few seconds and get the timing right,” Damien told her. “You can do this. Just take some deep breathes and watch the blades.”
Danni shook her head and smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
Damien took a look at Lewis while Danni stepped up to the casket. “Hey, man,” he said. “You got to snap out of whatever daze you’re in. This is serious.”
Lewis looked at Damien, but his eyes were not focusing at all. “I got this, man. Don’t….don’t worry about me…about me.”
Damien sighed and turned around just in time to see Danni shove her hand into the gap and press the button.
Whomp!
She turned around and faced him, a great big smile on her face. She flapped her arms excitedly. “I did it. Fuck, I did it.”
Damien nodded and smiled. “Good going. See, I told you that you could do it.”
“What are we going to do about him?” Danni motioned towards Lewis who was still slumped up against the wall and bleeding.
“I don’t know,” Damien admitted. “He’s totally out of it.”
“HOUSEMATE DANNI, YOU HAVE SUCCEEDED AT THE TASK. HOUSEMATE LEWIS, PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM. YOU MUST MAKE YOUR ATTEMPT.”
Without argument Lewis staggered away from the wall and approached the casket. From the blank expression on his face, he was either extremely confident or did not understand what he was doing.
“Be careful,” Damien told him. “You have to time it just right.”
Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!
“I got this!” Lewis said cockily, but there was a slight slurring to his words.
He’s on another planet. I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.
Damien and Danni exchanged a worried glance and then watched Lewis make his attempt. He moved his hand forward slowly, a little bit at a time. It seemed like he understood the danger and was being cautious. Damien was relieved.
Maybe he might just do this.
Then Lewis wobbled drunkenly on his feet and fell against the casket. His arm went into the hole. He didn’t bring it back out again.
Blood arced into the air. It filled the room in a fine mist and spattered Damien’s face.
Lewis tumbled backwards and began giggling. His right arm was missing from just below the elbow and a jagged shard of bone jutted out of the stump. The blades inside the casket were stained red and making a grinding sound as the bracelet from Lewis’s severed wrist rattled around inside it.
Danni turned around and gagged.
Lewis continued giggling as some kind of shock response flooded his system with euphoric hormones. He suddenly lost the ability to stand and crumpled to the floor as though his skeleton had turned into custard.
Damien dropped down beside Lewis and urgently placed his hands on the bleeding stump of his arm. The blood came thick and fast.
“What do I do?” Damien cried. “I can’t stop the bleeding”
“Do nothing,” Danni said, shaking her head and sighing. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“HOUSEMATES DAMIEN AND DANNI, PLEASE EXIT THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER. THE TASK IS OVER. CONGRATULATIONS.”
Damien gazed down at Lewis. The guy was still giggling but the sound was becoming weak and pitiful. He was fading fast.
“We can’t just leave him.”
Danni took Damien by his arm. “There’s nothing you can do. Come on.”
Damien allowed himself to be led out the room. When the door locked behind him, he couldn’t help thinking: Three down. Nine to go.
6
On the television screen, one of the silhouettes changed to a picture of Lewis’s dead body. The word TRICKSTER was written beneath it.
A new image appeared on screen. It seemed to be some sort of rap sheet, like the ones police kept on criminals. In the top left corner was a photograph of Lewis with thick dreadlocks and a goatee. He looked like a different person – only the eyes were the same. To the right of the photo was a list of crimes: Counterfeiting Notes & Coins, Forgery, Fraud by False Representation, Internet Fraud, Conspiracy to Obtain Money Transfer by Deception.
A news report began playing. It featured a stern-faced police officer standing behind a pedestal and addressing a forest of microphones.
“Mr George Ochonogor is responsible for crimes amounting to many millions of pounds, obtained via confidence tricks and several internet-based deceptions often referred to as 419 scams. However, I am happy to report that a large part of that sum has been recovered. The suspect is, however, still at large. Mr Ochonoger is a master of deception. He has a fluent grasp of many accents, most notably from the regions of Manchester, London, Birmingham, as well as his natural Nigerian dialect. He has lived in the country now for over a decade and has become naturalised with a keen ability to blend in. During that time Mr Ochonoger has been responsible for the destruction of many lives. The people he has stolen from demand that he be made to pay for his crimes. If anybody has any information, please come forward.”
The video finished playing.
7
Jade and Tracey were pretty drunk. They had necked perhaps four bottles of wine in the last few hours. It had also been noted that the wine they’d drunk on previous nights had been replaced with new bottles and a carton of cigarettes.
“Why are they feeding us and giving us booze?” Jade slurred. “If they’re jush gonna k
ill usssh.”
“Probably to keep us docile,” said Richard as he sipped from a beer can and puffed on a fag. “Make us all drunk and stupid.”
“If you think that,” said Danni. “Then why are you drinking?”
“Because there’s naff-all else to do, sweetheart. Only thing a man likes to do is drink and fuck.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Damien.
Richard grunted. “What’s climbed up your arse? You look right pissed off.”
“Why do you think that is?” said Danni. “Lewis is dead because of you. If you hadn’t of stomped on his head he might have had a chance of doing the task. I hope you saw what you did to him, you wicked man.”
Richard smiled. “Oh, I was watching, sweetheart. I watched every second. I enjoyed watching that bloody mongrel get put down like the animal he is. If I ever get to meet The Landlord, I’ll have to shake his hand.”
“You’re a piece of work. A man is dead and you laugh and insult him?”
“An animal is dead. You all saw what his crimes were. He was a parasite, just like the rest of them.”
“Makes me wonder what your crimes must be,” said Danni, narrowing her eyes at him. “I bet it’s worse than anything Lewis ever did.”
“Sweetheart, if you don’t take your beady eyes of me right now, you’re gonna lose ‘em. I ain’t guilty of nothing, so keep your goddamn trap shut.”
Damien picked up his glass of water from the table and took a very slow, very long sip. Then he placed the empty glass back down on the table with a soft clink!
“Richard,” Damien said calmly. “I want you to listen very carefully to me, okay?”
Richard just raised an eyebrow at him. The man seemed amused, yet slightly apprehensive.
Damien took a slow breath in through his mouth and let it out through his nostrils. “I am going to say this just once, Richard, so I hope very much that you listen. I am not a violent man, but once upon a time I was. In fact, I was a mean, tracksuit-wearing, drug-snorting, beat the shit out of you, thug. Lucky enough for you, Richard, I decided to change my ways and live a peaceful existence. I have a good friend to thank for that; he showed me the light. Tonight, however, I am willing to make an exception. You see, if I hear one more tiny, piddly, microscopic morsel of racist, sexist, disrespectful rubbish spew forth from your ignorant fucking mouth, I am going to punch you in your windpipe so hard that all you’ll be able to do, while I stamp your skull into the ground like an orange, is cry out for your ugly mother.”
The BIG Horror Pack 1 Page 74