5
The platform came to a stop inside some sort of staging area. The ground was bare cement and an oily odour clung to the air. It was not unlike an empty garage.
The only things inside the room were several tiers of metal shelving that housed a variety of equipment. Amongst the equipment were petrol cans, batteries, containers, cattle prods, folded-up tables, the large ‘wheel of fortune’, and more hand axes like the ones used to kill Chris and Richard.
Damien exchanged his chef’s knife for one of the axes, but decided to keep the blade spare. He slid it into his waist band at the back beneath his hoodie. He then trained his eyes on the doorway ahead. It was hanging open.
That’s good, because I was getting really sick of locked doors.
Damien took a step and wobbled as the whiskey in his system started to play havoc with his motor controls. The alternative was being sober and feeling the full blown agony from his wrist. He accepted that the grogginess was a necessary evil.
Passing through the doorway up ahead, he found himself inside a warehouse area. Various pallets were stacked up with machinery and various other things. There were also huge stockpiles of booze and snacks. Much more than twelve housemates could consume in ten days. A forklift truck sat abandoned in the centre of the warehouse and several hard hats hung from a nearby wall. It was quite an operation.
What the hell is this place? It can’t just be about a handful of people with a grudge. This place is permanent; like an actual business.
Damien glanced left and right as he moved between the pallets. The harsh glare of the strip lighting above made it hard to see clearly. Shadows cast their ominous tentacles over everything and made it feel like something nasty could jump out into the light at any moment. Damien took his time and moved slow.
The way up ahead was clear, the warehouse deserted. It was eerie without the bustle of labourers and warehouse workers. It was like an empty boat drifting at sea: it made no sense without people.
Where is everybody?
There were several more doors leading off from the warehouse, but none of them were open – only the one up ahead was. Light spilled out from a corridor beyond.
Damien approached the open door and moved through it silently, his axe held high and ready. He was beginning to feel a bit like James Bond.
A one-armed, axe wielding James Bond.
Maybe James Bond’s working-class cousin.
At the end of the corridor was an unlocked office. Someone was inside.
Damien bent his knees and crept along the wall. The man inside the office was facing away, rummaging through the drawers of a desk and stacking papers and folders into a pile.
Getting ready to clear out of here?
Damien snuck into the office and positioned himself behind the stranger. He raised the axe and prepared to strike a blow against the back of the other man’s skull.
But he reconsidered when he saw who the man was.
Damien took a step back and spoke. “So we meet again?”
The man in black overalls spun around and almost hopped up onto the desk. There was fright in his eyes but not necessarily terror. He looked down at the axe and then up at Damien’s face. “What are you doing down here?”
Damien held up the bloody stump of his arm. “Didn’t you hear? One of the monkeys escaped from the zoo.”
“You should have bled to death by now. You shouldn’t be here. You should be in the house”
Damien couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Should I just go back, then? Just wait for you to kill me like a good little boy?”
The man seemed to realise the absurdity of his words. He stiffened up and seemed to get over the surprise of seeing Damien, but he was clearly still wary of the axe ready to strike him. “What’s your plan then, Rambo?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On how much you help me. I want to know what this is all about.”
“You already know.”
Damien frowned. “Revenge? People have paid to have us all killed?”
The man nodded. “In a nutshell, yes.”
“Who’s running this thing?”
The man looked away.
Damien raised the axe threateningly.
“Okay, okay. This whole thing is run by Black Remedy. It was set up to allow people to take revenge on those who have wronged them. Bets taken on the black market just add to the profit margin and allow us to keep doing this. It’s a rich man’s day at the races.”
Damien shook his head. “That’s insane. How do Black Remedy expect to get away with it? They’re a public company for Christ’s sake.”
The man huffed and looked at Damien like he was an idiot. “Because they’ve been getting away with it for decades. You think you’re the first person to be here, son?”
The hair on the back of Damien’s neck stood up as he thought about just how long ‘decades’ was and how many people could have been tortured in that time. “You people are going to burn in hell.”
“So are you. You all deserve to be here. We’re just giving people justice.”
“And taking bets on it all. Very noble. Tell me why it looks like you’re in a hurry to get out of here?”
“Because we’re shutting up shop. We always do after the competition concludes. Next year we’ll do the whole thing again someplace else. We only ever stay in one place for two or three years at a time. They’ll be razing the place to the ground in less than an hour.”
“Who will be?”
The man shrugged. “Site security.”
“The men wearing the jumpers with the eyeball logos on them?”
The man nodded.
“You’re in charge of them, aren’t you?”
The man nodded.
“Well,” said Damien. “You better hope that you’re not still asleep when they start the fire.”
Before the man had chance to understand, Damien whacked him with the thick head of the axe. The blow struck him in the temple and sent him sprawling back over his desk. The papers he had been gathering fell to the floor in loose piles.
Damien was glad they would soon be setting fire to this wretched place. He just needed to make sure that he wasn’t inside when it happened.
6
Damien found his way up a flight of stairs and was now out of the basement and on the ground floor. There were people buzzing round in various rooms and offices and he was forced to stick to the wall like some sort of drunk, one-handed assassin.
The ironic thing was that the people on this floor were all wearing shirts and ties, milling about like ordinary office workers – except that, instead of telesales and purchasing, they were administrating the running of a death camp.
How do these people sleep at night?
Damien wanted to take his axe to every one of them, but there was no way that he could succeed in the task. He had to prioritise and, right now, that meant escape first and foremost.
The floor was set up like a typing pool, with multiple workspaces all set up with blinking computers. Disturbingly, some desks had pictures and personal effects on them too. The people here looked at photographs of their families while signing off on the deaths of innocent victims.
Well, maybe not ‘innocent’, but human beings at least.
Damien peered around a partition wall into a nearby cubicle and saw that its computer displayed strings of numbers which looked very much like betting odds. The whole floor must have been one giant bookmaking operation.
The main problem about escaping through it was that there were a dozen men and women all scuttling around the place like busy worker ants. Getting past them would not be easy. Damien eyed an exit up ahead, but there were several cubicles to get past first.
This is so much easier on Xbox.
A young woman with a pink neck scarf and a grey pencil skirt was bent over a desk up ahead. She was typing away at a computer, deleting files most likely. Damien watched her for a few seconds and then cra
wled up behind her, close enough to smell her lavender perfume.
Damien crept past the woman and slid into the next cubicle that was empty. He hid behind the partition wall and took a breather. His heart was beating like a kettle drum and each throb sent a spike of pain through his mangled wrist. He hadn’t even had time to contemplate that he was now missing a hand.
I don’t have much future as a carpenter if I can’t hold a nail.
Damien waited until the coast was clear again and crept another few cubicles ahead. A young couple were flirting up ahead and he had to wait several minutes before they parted ways. The man headed over to the opposite side of the office, while the woman walked right past the cubicle in which Damien was hiding. The way to the exit was clear.
Time to move.
Damien sprung out of his hiding place and bumped right into a man who was kneeling down on the floor. The middle-aged office worker had been filling up a cardboard box with papers on the floor. He’d been hidden by the partition wall.
The man looked at Damien in surprise, and then shock. “Hey!” he shouted. “It’s you!”
“No shit,” said Damien and then smacked the man square in the jaw with the axe handle.
Everyone in the office stopped what they were doing and stared at Damien. Apparently his escape from the house had gone unnoticed as they were all terribly shocked to see him.
They’re not used to having to face one of their victims. I’m not just a name on a betting form any more.
Damien realised that they really had been planning to leave him to bleed to death in the house. More fool them for not checking that the job was done.
Nobody made a move for Damien. They were merely office workers and he was a bloody, half-insane mess. They weren’t about to take the risk in being the company hero. What someone did do, however, was trip an alarm.
The siren began wailing throughout the entire building. It seemed to incite the office workers as they all started to filter out through side doors and stairwells. Damien ignored them and headed for the exit he had been seeking from the beginning.
He started to jog and then sprint as he entered a carpeted hallway. It was like being in the head office of any ordinary firm. It was furnished and homely.
A door on Damien’s left made him skid on his heels. He stepped back and peered through the glass pane on the door. Two people stood inside the room. One of them was a stumpy little man with a balding head and bookish spectacles. The other one was Danni.
Damien needed to escape this place before the security guards arrived. They would be planning to bury Damien on the spot or perhaps just leave him to burn when they started the fires. But, seeing as his chances for survival were so low anyway, Damien decided to change his priorities. He couldn’t resist the opportunity that had just presented itself.
This place was built for revenge. Maybe it’s about time that I got some of my own.
Damien turned the handle and kicked open the door. Danni and the stumpy man spun around in fright. They had both been staring at a computer screen with their backs to the door. Damien wasn’t sure but it had looked like a video call with someone, but as soon as he entered the room, the window on the screen closed.
The sound of footsteps thudded down the hallway outside. Damien locked the door and hoped it bought him some time.
Danni was the first one to speak. “Damien! What the hell are you doing here?”
Damien suddenly went dizzy, but he fought it and hoped it didn’t show. Whether it was the booze or his injuries, he did not know. He let the axe swing menacingly by his side as he spoke. “We promised to go out and get a drink, remember?”
Danni backed up against the computer desk. The stumpy man stood in front of her and put a hand up. “Now look here, young man, none of this was personal. If you stay calm, I’m sure that we can work something out.”
“You’ll have to excuse me,” said Damien, “but who in the blue hell are you?”
The man cleared his throat and seemed to think. “I-I’m just a technician. I just look after the computers.”
Damien smiled. “Guess this has nothing to do with you, then?”
The man smiled and nodded.
“Except,” said Damien. “That you look after the computers at a building that tortures and murders people.”
“Now look here!”
“No! You look here, you fat little weasel. One more word out of your maggoty lips and I chop ’em off. You get me?”
The man shut up.
Danni was still cowering up against the desk. Damien looked at her and grinned wide. He imagined he resembled some sort of deranged lunatic. The feeling was good.
He took a step towards her, draping the axe casually over his shoulder. “Oh now, what to do with you, my sweet sweet darling.”
“Damien, just calm down. You sound like a mad man.”
“The alternative is being a dead man, so I’m fine with having a couple screws loose. Besides, who would blame me?”
Somebody bashed a fist against the door and yelled something. It was one of the security guards outside in the hallway. Danni made a run for the door, grabbing at the handle.
Damien swung the axe at her head, but buried it in the wall only inches away. “SIT. THE. FUCK. DOWN!”
Danni backed away from the door and took a seat on a nearby swivel chair.
“Please, let us go,” said the stumpy man.
Damien sniffed. “I just have a few questions first. You understand how it is, first day in the office and all. Let’s think of it as an orientation.”
“So ask your stupid questions, then,” said Danni. There was a look of insolence in her eyes. She did not enjoy being on the bad end of this exchange.
I hope the irony isn’t lost on her.
“Well, firstly I want to know where we are. How far to the nearest civilisation?”
The stumpy man answered. “We’re on the Isle of Mull. There’s nowhere for miles and the only way to reach the mainland is by ferry.
Damien sighed. I’m screwed.
He pointed the axe at the stumpy man. “Then I need to use a phone.”
“No can do. When the alarm was tripped, all outside communication was locked down. The whole place is designed to make sure you don’t get out of here alive. The only mistake was assuming you were already dead. We should have kept our eye on the cameras.”
“You were watching me? I thought you were just a technician.”
The man’s eyes widened slightly and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, I am. I was working on the camera feeds when they left you to bleed to death in the kitchen. I-I can’t believe you survived.”
“I’ve survived a lot over the past ten days, so why quit now?”
Danni sniggered. She was lounging in the swivel chair now with her hands on the armrest. She seemed quite amused by it all. “You’re a dead man,” she said. “You’ll never get out of this place alive.”
The banging on the door increased and several faces appeared at the glass window pane. More security guards.
Damien sniggered back at Danni. “I wouldn’t be finding it so funny if I were you. I may be screwed, but that just means I have no more fucks left to give.”
Damien swung the axe without warning and brought it down on Danni’s left hand which was braced against the armrest. She bellowed in agony.
Blood sprayed into the air.
Damien kicked Danni’s severed hand aside as she dropped to her knees and wailed like a cat on a bonfire.
Damien stared down at her without pity. “Guess we’re even.”
The stumpy man slid up against the wall and looked like he was about to piss himself. There were tears forming in his eyes and his lower lip quivered.
Damien lunged at the man and grabbed him by his sweat-stained shirt collar. “You’re coming with me,” he said. “Time for the guided tour.”
7
When the door opened, Damien came out behind the stumpy man. The sharp edge of the axe was pressed up
against the man’s windpipe and Damien was ready to slice it open at a moment’s notice.
The half-dozen security guards had evacuated the office floor and they were now the only ones left. Damien kept them at bay by drawing a little blood with the axe.
The stumpy man bleated. “P-please, help me! He’s insane.”
Damien grinned. “You better bloody believe I am. I am one bloke you do not want to test right now.”
The security guards kept their distance but maintained pace with Damien as he backed down the corridor with his hostage.
“How do I get out of here?” Damien asked the stumpy man.
“I-I don’t know.”
He drew the axe along the man’s throat and drew a little more blood. “Guess again.”
“The…the corridor on the right. Take the corridor coming up on your right. It leads to the car park outside.”
“This goddamn place has a car park? I bet it has vending machines and water coolers too. You people are sick.”
“We provide justice,” he said. “A…a service.”
Damien took the corridor on his right. The guards pursued him cautiously. “You sound pretty passionate to the cause for a lowly technician.”
“W-we all believe in what we do. It is a just cause.”
“Except that I’m innocent of the crimes you allege of me. I wonder how many other mistakes were made with previous contestants. I hear you’ve been doing this a while. How many innocent people have you killed in that time?”
“None of them were innocent. And who gave you that information?”
“Why do you care?”
“B-because I am worried who else you’ve managed to hurt in your escape.”
Damien was nearing the end of the corridor. “The only person you need to be worrying about right now is yourself. Now, which way do I go?”
The Housemates: A Novel of Extreme Terror Page 18