“Well they might pretend the building’s on fire or that they’re going to attack you if you keep going but don’t worry, nothing can get through that door. You just keep going until I tell you to stop. Or if you want, you can turn around and go home right now. What’s it going to be Mary?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful, well we better get started and Mary?”
“Yes?”
“Good luck!”
The screen went blank at the same moment as the first red light glowed into life. It was situated above a metal switch. Mary reached over and flicked it to the left. A second later another light came on above a dial, the numbers ranging from one to ten. As she turned the dial, the light remained on until the two was pointing at the top. A slight humming filled the air as she flicked one switch after another, the minutes ticking by as she glanced frantically around the console, the lights moving faster, no pause between each one anymore.
A yell reached her from the next room, followed by a thud on the wall. She ignored it, concentrating on the red lights. The noises grew louder. “Stop it for God’s sake!” a voice cried.
For a moment her hand wavered but then she remembered what the host had said, how the others would try anything to prevent her from winning. “Not going to happen!” she called back, turning the dial to five. The cries continued, the hammering growing more frenzied.
“Please,” the voice yelled. “I have a family. Please let me go!”
“Nice try!” she shouted back, flicking another switch. She sniffed as a strange smell filled the air, the acrid tang of burning hitting the back of her throat. “Am I supposed to fall for that?” she called out but there was no reply other than a moan. She kept flicking switches with a manic glaze covering her eyes, unable to even look away for a second until finally the last light died and wasn’t replaced.
Sitting back and sighing, she sniffed, the smell more noticeable than ever. She stretched her arms as the screen flickered back into life.
“Congratulations Mary!” the host beamed out at her as applause filled the air. “You did it! How do you feel?”
“Piece of cake.”
“I bet it was. Now you can use the key to unlock the door in front of you. If you’d like to go through and collect your prize and I’d just like to say that was all wonderful to watch from here.”
Mary leapt to her feet, almost running to the door. She stepped through into a well lit room, most of the space taken up by a metal operating table. The smell made her wretch, a stinking burning stench that sent plumes of smoke into the air, making it hard to see what was on the table. She stepped closer and looked down, her mouth falling open at the sight before her. Tied to the table was the scorched remains of a man, the flesh burned and charred. Electrodes were attached to the man’s head and body, wires running from them into the wall behind him. Glancing up she could see where he’d slammed his head into the wall and then she looked closer at one of the few patches of unburned skin. He had a tattoo on his arm. A tattoo of a heart with a name in it, her name. She sank to the floor, unable to take her eyes from her ex-husband even as the tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Chapter 3
Larry had to stop for breath every few steps on the way up. His enormous frame wasn’t used to climbing stairs and his heart was warning him it needed to rest, thumping wildly in his chest as he wheezed for breath. Only eleven more flights, he told himself, looking up at the endless concrete spiralling away above his head. This prize better be worth it.
He’d received the invitation to play the Game of Life a week ago and had spent much of the intervening time trying to decide whether to accept. In the end he decided to go for it, only regretting his decision when he’d made it up to the first floor of Ship House. He thought about turning back but as his breathing returned to normal the dream of winning the huge prizes they’d mentioned filled his mind and he began the slow ascent once more.
It took over an hour to reach the twelve floor and as he stepped out into the corridor, sweat poured down him, his stained teeshirt sticking to his skin. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he leaned on the wall and waited for his heart rate to return to normal.
Reaching into the pocket of his tracksuit trousers he pulled out the keys they’d sent him. The first two doors didn’t unlock but the third swung open and he found himself in a room that was empty apart from an industrial set of weighing scales and a TV screen on the wall to his left. As he stepped in and sniffed at the mould that seemed to pour into his lungs, the TV flickered into life.
“Hello Larry!”
He looked at the screen in time to see the beaming face of a gameshow host looking back at him. “Hi,” he said, wincing slightly as an unseen audience cheered loudly.
“Welcome to the Game of Life! If you’re ready to play, simply lock the door behind you and slide the key underneath, no backing out once we begin.”
“I’m not sure…”
“Listen Larry, we’ve a lot of contestants to get through tonight and only an hour long show. If you don’t want to play, you’re welcome to simply walk back down the stairs and head for home. So what’s it going to be big guy?”
“All right fine, I’ll play but this prize better be worth it.”
“Oh it is, I can assure you of that.”
Larry took the key and locked himself into the room, sliding it under the door before standing back up. As he did so he noticed something he hadn’t seen before next to the scales, a gleaming metal saw.
“Now you’re a large gentleman aren’t you Larry?”
“Huh?”
“You’re on the bigger end of the weight spectrum wouldn’t you agree?”
“I guess so.”
“Well how would you feel if I told you there are two ways you could lose weight, a quick one and a slow one? Which would you prefer?”
“The quick one but I doubt…”
“Don’t make your mind up just yet. Let me explain how things work first. All you have to do is step on those scales weighing less than fifteen stone. Can you do it Larry?”
“No chance. I’m easily seventeen stone plus. You better just let me go home now.”
“Ah but you gave us back the key didn’t you? Now have a look at this chart for a moment.”
The image of the host was replaced by two columns of writing. In the first was a list of body parts, finger, hand, arm, leg. In the other column was a list of weights in pounds. Larry frowned at the chart as the image of the host returned. “Getting the picture yet?”
“Not really.”
“I told you there was a quick and a slow way to lose weight. You get to choose which. You can either stay in this room until you work off some of that blubber of yours. Probably a week or two and you might just scrape under. Or you can pick up that saw and choose which parts of your body you can afford to lose. I think you’ll agree…” the host broke into an enormous grin, “…our prizes are worth an arm and a leg.”
There was a roar of laughter from the invisible audience as Larry turned to the door and shoved his frame against it, trying to force his way back out. It didn’t move. “Oh Larry, you’re a trier, I’ll give you that. Now we’re going to give you some time on your own to have a think about how you’d like to play.”
“What the hell is this? Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m the host of The Game of Life!”
The screen went blank and no amount of shouting or swearing from Larry brought it back to life. He spent an hour pacing up and down, muttering to himself with the saw in his hand, his stomach already growling with hunger. He tried calling for help, slamming himself against the doors and even used the saw on the wall, falling back in shock when the paint peeled away to reveal solid steel behind. There was no way out.
He’d spent three days in the room before making his mind up. He’d tried standing on the scales every few minutes but he knew he’d never survive long enough to get under fifteen stone, not without water. Hi
s throat was bone dry and his hands shook as he picked up the saw and tried to remember the weights from the chart of the screen. An arm and a leg, he thought to himself. I can survive without an arm and a leg. He set the teeth of the saw to just below his right elbow before moving it up towards his shoulder. I can’t do it twice, he thought, I just can’t. He gritted his teeth and began to saw, watching the metal teeth digging into the flesh as he began to scream. Blood poured down his arm as he somehow kept going, ignoring the flaring of pain from his nerve endings which were torn apart by the merciless swing of the blade.
The bone seemed to take forever to cut through, his vision going hazy as he heard the wet squelch of the dismembered limb falling to the ground beside him. Muttering obscenities he ripped at his teeshirt, pulling off a length of fabric and tying it as best he could around the jagged stump beneath his shoulder. He wept as he stumbled over to the scales and climbed on. The digital display pinged to life. 17 stone 3 lbs. A leg, he thought. It has to be a leg. His hand shook as he picked up the saw again, pulling down his tracksuit trousers to reveal a sickly pale obese leg. He tore another strip from his teeshirt and wrapped it as tightly as he could around the top of his thigh. He began to scream as he started cutting below the tourniquet, watching arterial blood spurt across the room and spray the TV screen. His vision faded as he frantically cut as fast as he could, yelling obscenities the entire time. He wept as he scraped through bone and then he was done.
With a cry of triumph he crawled over to the scales and slumped across them. 14 stone 11 lbs. The far door swung open as the gameshow host appeared on the screen, peering through the dripping blood that coated the glass surface. “Congratulations Larry! I knew you could do it.”
Larry burbled and giggled as he dragged himself across the floor, ignoring the host talking behind him. Blood left a trail in the floor behind him as he slid through the doorway into the next room to claim his prize.
Chapter 4
Gavin was still thinking about last night as he walked towards Ship House. It had been a good show and he’d gone to sleep dreaming about the two women he’d been watching. He spent most nights online, watching through webcams into the lives of pornographic performers around the world. The sites he frequented displayed thumbnail images of each girl and he’d often have two or three windows open at once, flitting from one room to another as things heated up or cooled down.
It normally did the trick but every now and then it wasn’t quite enough. It wasn’t something he was proud of but occasionally he made use of the red light district in the city. It normally coincided with him having some spare cash to throw around, traditionally just after payday.
But last week’s experience had put him off real life women for a while at least, it was safer to watch from his bedroom, curtains closed, lights out, just him, the screen and whoever was at the other end stripping for the camera and the credits the users paid for.
When he’d been invited to appear on the Game of Life, his first thought was that the winnings would help him spend as much time as he liked with whoever he liked, maybe even try and meet a normal girl, one that didn’t steal his wallet and run off leaving him frustrated in his car and having to ring the banks to cancel all his cards. Still, it wouldn’t happen again. For now he was sticking to the chatrooms, they wouldn’t run off and better yet, they did whatever he suggested in the chatbox. Women were so easy, he thought as he began to climb the stairs. Throw a few credits in their direction and they’d whore themselves out for anyone.
He reached the twelve floor and used the key he’d been sent to open door four, the others refusing to move when he tried them. Inside the room was a curtain screening half the room. In view was an open laptop at a fold out table with an office chair set before it. He was about to peer round the curtain when a voice spoke up from nowhere. “Sit down please Gavin.”
“But…”
“I’m afraid if you look round before the game begins you forfeit your chance to play.”
Reluctantly he sat, continually glancing up at the curtain. On the computer screen the face of a smiling gameshow host appeared, looking directly at him. “Welcome to the Game of Life. Are you ready for the performance of your life?”
“Look, what’s this all about? Why am I here?”
“I don’t know, why are you here? Perhaps it’s to win the prize of your dreams.” A cheer went up behind the host as an unseen audience whooped and hollered. “The rules are pretty simple Gavin, shall I explain?”
“Please do,” Gavin replied, leaning back and folding his arms.
“On this screen a box will appear. Think of it as a live chatroom of sorts. All you have to do is carry out each instruction to the letter until the game’s over. Think you’re up to it?”
“Easy. But there must be a catch?”
“No catch. Carry out the instructions, win the prize. Want to give it a go or want to run home with your tail between your legs?”
His hackles rose. “Are you calling me a coward?”
“Not at all. Just wondering if you’re up to the challenge, that’s all.”
Gavin sat upright and stared at the screen. “Let’s do this.”
“Excellent. You can pull back the curtain now.”
The screen went dark as Gavin stood up and whipped the curtain to one side. Behind it was a bed with a naked woman tied to it, her wrists and ankles bound to each bedpost. A camera was set up at the foot of the bed on a tripod, red light flashing on and off as it pointed directly at the woman. She was blindfolded, a ballgag in her mouth as she whipped her head from side to side, pulling and straining at the bonds that held her in place. Beside the bed was a steel trolley covered in objects. There were dildos, scissors, a spoon, even a feather duster. Am I supposed to clean up afterwards, he thought before he glanced back at her face, realising who it was lying there.
“I know you,” he said, walking towards her. “You’re the bitch who stole my wallet.”
Her head turned towards him as a muffled cry came from behind the gag. With a smile on his face, he spun the laptop to face him, the chatbox already open.
“Pull her nipples,” the first line of text said. For a moment he hesitated but then he thought of the smile on her face as she’d run off with his money and then he reached over the bed and took a nipple in each hand, yanking hard with his fingers.
The woman let out a muffled scream as he let go, feeling heat building inside him at the power he realised he had over her. He looked back at the screen. “Slap her. She loves it.”
He did as suggested, enjoying the sight of red flaring on her cheeks as her head whipped from one side to the other. He turned back to the computer. “Tickle her feet, lick her toes, rub her ankles, do it, do it, she wants it!”
He stroked the soles of her feet, aware of the blinking eye of the camera behind him. Was this being screened for the people watching? What kind of game show was this? Certainly not a child friendly one, he thought as he saw the next instruction waiting for him.
He spent half an hour alternating between teasing and tormenting the woman who could only groan behind the gag, tugging ineffectually at her bonds, unable to free herself. Her skin grew red from his slaps, pinch marks flaring up on her legs. He found himself becoming increasingly aroused as he continued, beginning to hope someone would tell him he could fuck her. She looked ready for it, rocking her hips from side to side like that, her body exposed to his gaze and to the eyes of the people watching on the other side of the computer screen.
“Suck her tits,” someone suggested and he did so in an instant, enjoying the feel of her nipples in his mouth. He stood back up, fanning his face as he fought to resist touching her without being given permission.
“The blindfold is no good,” the next instruction read. “Take out her eyes.”
Gavin blinked, reading and rereading the words, hoping there was some mistake.
“I’m not doing that,” he said out loud. “No way.”
“Do it or thi
s video goes to everyone you know Gavin.” The words flashed onto the screen as he fell back in shock. They knew his name. They’d seen what he’d done to her already. The bruises that were still coming to the surface as tears soaked into her blindfold. He couldn’t risk his family seeing this. None of them knew what he got up to since he’d left home. What about work? He’d lose his job. But was that worth maiming her for? Could he really go through with this?
But then he looked back at her and he wondered. She had stolen from him and it would definitely wipe that smirk from her face. He picked up the metal spoon from the trolley and ran his fingers over it, the heat inside him building to intolerable levels. With one hand he leaned over and yanked her blindfold from her eyes. “Remember me?” he asked, grinning down at her wild eyes as she began to scream even louder behind her gag. “You thought it was pretty funny didn’t you to steal from me? Who’s laughing now?”
She whipped her head left and right and he growled with frustration, climbing onto the bed above her and clamping down on her ears with his knees, forcing her to keep still. With insane excitement flashing across his face he leaned down with the spoon and pressed it towards her left eye. Her cries reached a new pitch as he pushed the spoon around the side of her eyeball, forcing it past the resistance as her body writhed underneath him. He scooped out the eyeball as thick fluid ran down her face, her remaining good eye staring up at him in terror as the dead eye dangled on its stalk down her cheek. He left it dangling in place as he turned his attention to the other, finding this one easier to remove, his hand no longer shaking. As he scooped it free, her cries faded to hitching sobs and he let the spoon fall from his hand, returning to the laptop to see the next instruction already on the screen.
“She’s not bleeding enough. Cut her.”
When the door opened to the next room ten minutes later Gavin walked through with blood dripping from his hands, his mind racing. Behind him the body of the woman lay still, the remains of her fingers scattered across the floor. He didn’t look back, his mind already switching off as he stepped through to claim his prize.
Night Terrors: 16 Horror Stories Page 19