The Housemates: A Novel of Extreme Terror

by Iain Rob Wright

  “Or two,” Sarah added, giggling and covering her mouth with a pudgy hand.

  Damien nodded his head. “Definitely. Is the money the main reason that you’re both here?”

  The two of them nodded. Lewis said, “Don’t think I can take the rat race much longer, mate. I dream of spending my days on a beach in St Lucia.”

  “Hey, that sounds nice,” said Sarah, turning to him and grinning. “Maybe I’ll come with you.”

  “Make it three,” said Damien giving another insincere smile.

  “ALL HOUSEMATES, PLEASE GATHER IN THE GARDEN.”

  It was voice of The Landlord. Damien frowned. He didn’t feel like getting up.

  Got to play by the rules, though.

  Those who were inside the house filed outside quickly. Jade and the others in the hot tub quickly towelled themselves off and pulled their clothes back on.

  Once everybody was gathered together in the centre of the grassy courtyard the landlord spoke again.

  “IN ONE MINUTE. YOU WILL BE PRESENTED WITH TWO CONTAINERS. EACH CONTAINER IS FULL OF HOUEMATE’S LUGGAGE.”

  “Sweet,” said Jules. “I want to grab a jumper. My nips are turning to rubber.”

  Everybody waited, looking around and wondering where exactly these containers were going to appear. Then the ground began to move, right in front of the huge painting of the eye logo.

  At the leftmost edge of the courtyard, a wide platform began to rise up on hydraulic stilts. The platform was topped with grass and had been indistinguishable from the rest of the ground until it had started to rise up on metal cylinders.

  “That’s pretty trippy,” said Lewis. “I would never have even known it was there.”

  Beneath the grassy platform was a pair of windowed enclosures. They looked a bit like space-age transporter pods from a sci-fi show. Each of the two glass pods was filled with suitcases.

  “That’s our luggage,” Jade shouted excitedly. “Thank fudge for that. I need my makeup. I look like a panda.”

  The platform stopped moving and locked audibly into place. Everyone in the garden looked around in confusion.

  “Do we try and open them?” Alex asked. He was back in his suit jacket again and had readjusted his tie.

  “BEHIND THESE TWO CONTAINERS IS A PAIR OF HANDHELD PUMPS. THESE PUMPS ARE ATTACHED TO A PAIR OF HOSES. TWO HOUSEMATES MUST BRING EACH HOSE INTO THE CENTRE OF THE GARDEN.”

  Everyone looked around at one another. Jade stepped forward and a half-second later, so did Alex. The two of them trod gingerly towards the glass containers and then navigated around to the back of them. They reappeared moments later with steel pipes the length of broom handles. The pipes were both attached to long red hoses.

  The apparatus seemed heavy and both Alex and Jade seemed to struggle while dragging them along the grass towards the rest of the group. When they finally managed it, The Landlord gave further instructions.

  “JADE AND ALEX. YOU HAVE OFFERED YOURSELF UP AS LEADERS. CHOOSE YOUR TEAMS AND MAKE THEM EQUAL.”

  Jade shrugged at Alex. “I’ll pick then you pick, one at a time, yeah?”

  Alex shrugged.

  “I pick Tracey,” said Jade.

  Tracey sauntered over to her teammate and smiled. Then she stood with a hand on her slender hip as if she were giving a pose to the paparazzi.

  Maybe she’s playing up for the cameras.

  “I pick Damien,” said Alex.

  Surprised to be picked so soon, Damien headed over to Alex and nodded his thanks.

  Jade made her next pick. “Catherine.” Catherine was another person that Damien was yet to really make an acquaintance with. She was the oldest housemate, along with the retired school teacher, Patrick. She wore thick round glasses which, along with her shrivelled face, made her look a little like a mole.

  Alex picked Jules.

  Jade picked the big guy, Chris.

  Alex: “Danni.”

  Jade: “Lewis.”

  “Patrick.”

  “Sarah.”

  Alex made the final pick. “Richard.”

  “NOW THAT YOU HAVE PICKED YOUR TEAMS, THE GAME CAN BEGIN. IN YOUR GROUPS, YOU EACH POSSESS A PUMP – NOT UNLIKE A BICYCLE PUMP. YOU MUST GRAB THE HANDLE AS A TEAM AND PUMP AIR INTO YOUR HOSES. THESE HOSES ARE CONNECTED TO A HYDRAULIC WATER TANK. THE FIRST TEAM TO FILL THEIR GLASS CONTAINER WITH LIQUID WILL WIN THE TASK.”

  Damien cleared his throat. “I don’t get it,” he said. “If we fill the tanks up with liquid the luggage inside will be ruined.”

  “THE TASK WILL BEGIN IN 10…9…8…”

  “Hey,” said Damien. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “7…6…5…”

  “Just get ready,” Alex ordered. “We need to win this.”

  “4…3…2…”

  Damien was about to protest further but decided there was no point. Being in the house meant submitting his will to the producers. If they wanted to mess around with him, what choice did he have? It was what he had signed up for and he would just have to go along for the ride.

  “1… START PUMPING.”

  Both teams began pumping frantically. Damien was a second or two late in helping his team due to his initial confusion. It was hard work to hold the pump firmly. The hose thrashed about wildly. Damien grabbed the lower portion of the pump and held it tightly so that the others could work the handle more steadily.

  The glass containers at the back of the courtyard began to rain liquid from their ceilings. They almost looked like the gunge booths you saw on Saturday morning kid’s shows.”

  “Come on,” shouted Alex, sweat already forming on his brow. His Adam’s apple bobbed beneath his collar. “Their tank is filling faster. Pump!”

  Damien struggled to hold the pump steady while his teammates worked away on the handle. Every successful pump resulted in a hiss of air entering the hose and a gush of liquid entering the tank. The containers were filling quickly. The liquid inside was clear except for the slightly brown hue that seemed to swirl in random currents.

  Both teams pumped furiously, all of them growing tired. Their faces bloomed red and their movements became slower and jerkier as if moving through clay.

  As the tanks became almost full, the contest was more or less even. Alex’s team were just a pump or two behind Jade’s.

  “Come on, come on,” said Alex. “We’re almost there.”

  A siren went off.

  “We did it,” cried Jade. “We won!”

  Alex looked over at the other team’s tank. It was full to the brim with the mysterious liquid. He threw the pump down on the floor and hissed. “Sod it!”

  “Sorry,” said Damien. “We’ll win the next one.”

  Alex shook his head and scowled. “If you hadn’t been messing around at the beginning we would have won.”

  Damien felt a twinge of aggression in his gut, a tiger being poked. He took a deep breath and petted it into submission. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Danni. “It’s just a game.”

  “A game we just kicked your arses at,” said Jade from over in her group. She was dancing around barefoot like an excited child.

  Alex muttered something under his breath. Damien tried to reach out to the guy and apologise again, but was shrugged away for his efforts.

  “Get the hell off me.”

  Damien tried to look apologetic, but he was finding it difficult to ignore the guy’s bad attitude. “Just chill, Alex. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Don’t tell me to chill. You just lost us this task.”

  “And you might lose the next one, so cut me some slack and I’ll do the same for you in the future.”

  “HOUSEMATES, THE TASK IS COMPLETE. JADE’S TEAM HAS FILLED THEIR CONTAINER.”

  Suddenly the liquid inside Jade’s team’s container ignited. The fluid inside must have been petrol or some other combustible liquid. The flames swirled around inside the obviously tempered glass. Smoke escaped from the top of the plat
form via an unseen vent.

  “What the hell?” said Jade. “That’s our luggage in there. They’re burning our luggage.”

  Damien stared into the flames as they continued to rage and consume. Leather and plastic melted and popped.

  The other container, the one that had belonged to Alex’s team, began to drain away. The liquid disappeared through the bottom of the glass compartment until it was once again empty of everything except for the luggage inside.

  Then it popped open like an Easter egg.

  “JADE’S TEAM. YOU MAY COLLECT THE LUGGAGE FROM THE LOSER’S CONTAINER. THIS LUGGAGE IS YOURS TO KEEP, REGARDLESS OF ITS FORMER OWNER.”

  Alex and the rest of his team looked at one another with confusion and a certain degree of persecution. Damien was perplexed. What exactly did The Landlord mean that Jade’s team could ‘keep the luggage regardless of its former owner’?

  Jade and her team wasted no time. They hurried up to the open container and began dragging out the cases inside. Six pieces of luggage in total – all random. They were sealed in plastic bags which had protected them from the liquid. Damien spotted his own suitcase immediately.

  “Hey, that one is mine,” said Damien, pointing to the black shell case.

  It was in the hands of Chris, who looked at him with an unfriendly sneer. “You lost, mate.”

  “Don’t be unreasonable. My things are in there.”

  Chris smirked. The expression made the thick scar on his chin stretch wider. “My things.”

  Damien took a step forward but Danni stopped him. “He’s just playing by their rules,” she said. “Let him. With a million pounds you can buy a whole lot more stuff.”

  Damien didn’t like it, someone else taking his belongings. He wasn’t the type of person to take shit from bullies like Chris. He was the type of guy to stand up to them. But he also had a temper, a temper he couldn’t always control.

  I don’t get involved with confrontation anymore. I just need to stay calm and let it go. Be the bigger man.

  “Oh yes!” cried Jade, struggling with a large purple suitcase. “I got my own things.”

  “Me too,” said Lewis and Catherine.

  It appeared, however, that Tracey and Sarah had the luggage of somebody else. The fact was given away by the disappointed frowns on their faces.

  “Who do these belong to?” Sarah asked.

  Jules and Patrick put their hands up.

  “Then you might as well take them. I wouldn’t feel right wearing somebody else’s clothes. Besides, one of these will be full of men’s clothes.”

  “I suppose that I agree,” said Tracey, shrugging her shoulders. The two ladies handed over the luggage to their rightful owners. That left everybody looking at Chris who was still in possession of Damien’s suitcase.

  “What you lookin’ at?” he grunted at them.

  “Well,” said Jules. “After the kind gesture that Sarah and Tracey just made, are you not going to give Damien his case back?”

  “Am I bollocks! I won this fair and square. His skinny shite probably won’t fit me, but it’ll still be better than spending ten days sitting in my own skidmarks. No, sorry, but he’ll have to get over it like a big girl.”

  Damien clenched his fists and felt his stomach knot up. Danni placed a hand on his back and rubbed. “Don’t let him get to you. I’m sure this is just some big prank by the producers.”

  Chris headed off to the bedroom, wheeling Damien’s trunk behind him like a treasure chest. Damien stared daggers into the man’s thick back every inch of the way until he was completely out of sight.

  Damien shook his head and huffed. It best be some kind of prank, because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

  4

  Damien needed every ounce of self-restraint he possessed to keep calm whilst he watched Chris saunter around in his trainers. He knew the guy was only doing it to get a reaction. It wasn’t worth taking the bait.

  Damien knew Chris’s type well. They thought that by provoking a reaction and trying to intimidate people, everyone would just assume they were genuine hard men and back off. The truth in most cases, however, was that those with the most ‘swagger’ had the least to back it up with. Their overly-aggressive manner was a facade designed to win fights without them ever starting. If anybody ever actually called a bully like Chris out on his bullshit, he would probably crumble like a piss-soaked sandcastle.

  Damien was sat on a stool in the kitchen. He took a deep breath as he tried to turn his thoughts to matters other than wanting to chin Chris. Aggression was not the answer, Damien’s older, wiser friend, Harry, would often say to him. Violence was for fools, he would comment with a knowing look in his eye. Harry had made his feelings on criminal behaviour very clear on that long ago evening when he’d offered Damien a lifeline, a way out of his then worthless existence. Harry had stated firmly that Damien’s prior thuggery and criminal behaviour would not be tolerated if he was to offer his help. Damien had agreed to change his ways, had wanted to in fact. He was glad for Harry’s help.

  And so Damien had trained as a master carpenter, working with Harry every single day and setting up a business. At first, Damien had been excited at the potential to make an honest living, to even strike it rich, but that had quickly died away when Harry insisted on giving most of their profits away to charity. Damien had cried bloody murder when half his pay cheque went to help an old people’s home replace their central heating. Over time, though, he started to see the good that his hard work was doing. The act of charity became deeply satisfying – more satisfying than spending the money he gave away would have been. Despite everything Damien had ever believed about himself, and about life, he was happy to give his money away to those who needed it more. Charity had not just changed Damien’s life – it had changed him as a person. It gave him a clear perspective and unburdened his soul. Previously he had felt like a pack mule, carrying his many sins around his neck and walking an endless, dusty road. Now he was a galloping horse, surrounded on all sides by wonderful green fields. He had been set free.

  And Harry was to thank for it.

  And now it’s he who needs the charity. After all of the people Harry has helped over the last few years, he deserves to have somebody help him. I’m going to make sure that person is me. I need to pay him back for all that he’s done for me.

  “Don’t let Chris wind you up,” said Danni, sitting on the stool beside him in the kitchen. She was wearing a different top now, lent to her by Jules. The two women were about the same size, only Danni had longer, and nicer, legs.

  “I’m not letting him get to me,” said Damien, probably unconvincingly. He could hear his teeth grinding between words.

  “Good. Because it’s probably best not to mess with that guy.”

  Damien huffed. “It’s not Chris that’s worrying me.”

  “Then what is it? What are you worried about?”

  He looked at her and then looked away. “I’m more worried about me and what I might do to him.”

  “HOUSEMATES, ASSEMBLE IN THE LIVING AREA. VOTING IS ABOUT TO COMMENCE.”

  Damien stood up with Danni and went over to the sofa to join the other housemates. Chris nodded at Damien from over by the couch. He lifted up one of his trainers and rested it on his knee.

  Just ignore him. The only thing I should focus on is staying in the house longer than him. That’s how I’ll beat him.

  Everybody sat down on the sofa, backs erect, ready for what came next.

  “ALL HOUSEMATES MUST NOW CONDUCT A VOTE FOR WHOM THEY WISH TO UNDERTAKE THE HEAD TO HEAD ELIMINATION. AS LEADER OF THE WINNING GROUP IN TODAY’S TASK, JADE IS EXEMPT FROM THE VOTE.”

  “Sound!” said Jade with a catlike grin on her face. She pointed to Damien and nodded. “We’ll start at this end of the sofa and go along one after the other.”

  Damien sighed. He hadn’t expected to go first, and was uncomfortable having to name someone openly – not that he had any problem with choosing
the ‘who’ or the ‘why’.

  He decided to just get it over with. “I vote for Chris, because I don’t like him. I don’t like him at all.”

  Chris sneered at Damien, but Damien refused to make eye-contact. The big guy had it in for him anyway, stealing his luggage and flaunting it around the house, so it wasn’t like he had just made a new enemy.

  Although it’s worrying that the producers let a sociopath like him in with the rest of us.

  Next up was Alex. “I vote for Damien,” he said quickly, “because I feel that he lost us the task earlier.”

  Damien sighed. It was a fair enough answer. Perhaps he was responsible.

  Jules voted for Chris. Damien had the feeling it was in support of him.

  Jade voted for Jules. It seemed like it was in defence of Chris. Alliances were definitely forming.

  Sarah voted for Danni because she thought the other woman was ‘a little bit cold.’ Lewis sided with her and voted for Danni too.

  Catherine voted for Damien because ‘he didn’t join in last night and drink with everybody else.’

  Richard voted adamantly for Lewis. He didn’t explain why.

  Patrick voted for Chris and, surprisingly, voiced his dislike of the man being because of him not handing over the luggage to its rightful owner like Sarah and Tracey had. Damien nodded at the older man in appreciation.

  Least somebody is on my side.

  Tracey voted for Danni for the same reasons as Sarah. That just left Chris to vote. No mystery as to who the man would vote for.

  “I vote for Damien,” Chris said, “because the guy swigs diet coke and spends his time in the kitchen like a poofter.”

  Damien laughed it off. The guy was an absolute jerk, but perhaps it highlighted the errors in Damien’s game plan. It was only the first day and people were already voting for him. He would not win the prize money if it continued.

  “HOUSEMATES, THE VOTING IS NOW COMPLETE. DAMIEN AND CHRIS BOTH HAVE THREE VOTES EACH. THEY WILL COMPETE AGAINST EACH OTHER IN THE HEAD TO HEAD ELIMINATION TASK. THE LOSER WILL BE REMOVED FROM THE COMPETITION.”