Gripping Thrillers

by Iain Rob Wright

  He glanced up at the nearest camera.

  Now we’re all but guaranteed to have fireworks and they’re just waiting to film it.

  Everybody whooped at the sight of so much party fuel and started handing it out.

  Over in the kitchen, the blond guy, Alex, was rooting through cupboards and opening up drawers. “There’s a shitload of food here,” he suddenly yelled out, clicking his fingers to an imaginary rhythm that must have been playing in his head. “And we have steaks and some big fat sausages in the freezer.”

  “Splendid,” said Patrick, licking his lips. “I love a bit of fresh meat.”

  “There’s a toilet over here,” someone shouted. “No bathroom, though. Weird.”

  Jade took a bottle of red wine out of the fridge and palmed off the screw top. She sauntered into the living area and took a swig directly from the bottle. Damien winced.

  Classy bird.

  “So,” Jade said, taking another swig and wiping away the wine that found its way onto her bony chin. “Let’s see what’s through door number two.”

  She approached another door that was at the far corner of the living area. It, too, had a label affixed across its top, but it was too far away for Damien to read. He took a few steps closer until he could see what it said.

  ELIMINATION CHAMBER.

  “Must be where we do the tasks,” Jade guessed. “I can’t wait.”

  “That just leaves the bedrooms,” said the stubble-faced mechanic, Richard. “So where the fuck are they?”

  Damien looked around. There were no more doors.

  “They have to be somewhere,” said Jade. “Everybody take a look around.”

  The housemates dispersed, searching for a door that they might have missed. After several minutes of investigation, though, everybody came up short.

  “There aren’t any more doors,” said Jules, tucking her bright orange hair behind her ears. The makeup around her eyes was still smudged which made it look like she had been crying.

  “There has to be,” said Alex.

  “Then where?”

  Alex marched up to the long garden windows and tried the patio door. “Locked,” he said, rattling the handle. He adjusted his tie and cricked his neck. “They must be playing games with us.”

  Jade let out a feline growl and folded her brightly coloured arms. “Okay, very amusing. Can someone please tell us where our beds are, please!” She strode into the centre of the living area and stared up at the ceiling as if addressing some deity in the clouds. “Excuse me….Mr Landlord, or whatever you’re called. Can you tell us where we’re sleeping tonight, thank you very much?”

  There was no reply. The house’s concealed speakers remained silent.

  “HEY, YOU RETARD. STOP SCREWING AROUND AND TELL US WHERE OUR BEDS ARE!” Jade threw the bottle of wine in her hand across the room, smashing it against the nearest wall and leaving a deep red stain that was not unlike blood.

  Damien raised an eyebrow in surprise. Wow! She’s like a spoiled kid.

  Richard was covering his mouth with his hand, disguising a laugh as he watched the commotion. To him it was obviously some form of entertainment to watch another person lose it.

  Jade glanced around in obvious frustration. It was clear that she was going to blow some kind of mental fuse at any moment. The girl was unstable, that much quickly became clear.

  Damien stepped forward, put a hand up to calm her. “They’re just messing with us, Jade. This is all for television, right? Well, looks like the games have begun already. Don’t let them get to you, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Alex agreed. “If you go off like a firework you’re liable to get yourself thrown out. And that means no prize money for you!” He actually seemed quite pleased by the notion.

  Jade was breathing heavily. She glanced around for a few moments like a nervous chicken. Eventually the rise and fall of her heaving chest started to shorten and a semblance of calm returned to her harsh, angular features. It was like a switch had been flipped, sending her someplace else for a while, but now she was returning to reality.

  “You’re right,” she said. “You’re right. They want me to blow my lid so they can get some juicy footage for the cameras.” She looked over at one of the cameras and extended her middle finger. “Well, you’re not going to get one over on me so easily. Swivel on this.”

  Damien shook his head and sighed. Great, I’m stuck inside this house with a bloody loon. I hope they allowed her to keep her medication

  “Well,” Jules interjected. “I say that we just forget about our sleeping arrangements for now and get our S-W-A-G on instead! Let’s party.”

  Damien rolled his eyes. Great! Someone just used the word ‘party’ as a verb.

  I’m screwed.

  Jade grinned, large and wide. Her frustration seemed completely gone now. She hurried back over to the pantry and grabbed two more bottles of wine, holding them aloft her head like trophies. “Who’s got the glasses?”

  Alex clicked his fingers like guns. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

  3

  Without his watch on, Damien had no idea what time it was. He assumed it was early morning and that the sun would make an appearance any minute. The rain still poured, but seemed to be letting up slightly. Its earlier rat-a-tat-tat on the window pane had given way to a gentle pitter patter.

  The other housemates had drunk their fair share of alcohol by now. Damien had stuck to soft drinks and water, much to the chagrin of the others. They had treated him like he was ill somehow – like sobriety was some new form of leprosy. Tracey, a slender woman in a blouse and smart grey trousers had tried on several occasions throughout the night to get him to drink. She had become quite pissy when he refused for the third or fourth time.

  As he watched them, though, falling around and chatting utter nonsense to one another, he was glad for his abstinence. People did not realise the power of alcohol and how much of their dignity it could soak through. It was worse than drugs, in Damien’s opinion.

  The stuff almost killed Harry once upon a time.

  Still, if there was anything positive to dwell on at all, it was that at least the housemates had a decent sense of humour. There had been many a joke or humorous quip made in the last several hours and even Damien had cracked a smile now and then. It was only in the last thirty minutes or so that things had devolved into drunken nonsense. People’s eyeballs had begun to roll around like loose marbles in their skulls and their speech had turned to incoherent slurry. Damien was now acutely aware of being the only sober person in the room. A rabbit among foxes. He wanted very much now to find a bed and get some sleep. The metal ring around his neck had started to feel heavy. The ones around his wrists were starting to chafe.

  “You’re not like the others,” said a woman with Mediterranean features and a slender, petite frame. She had introduced herself to him earlier and said that her name was ‘Danni’. She had streaky brown hair and wore a crisp white blouse above a short black skirt. Her legs were long, sleek and tanned. They had caught Damien’s lustful stare on more than one occasion throughout the night and he hoped his leching had not been caught by the cameras. He tried to be a better man than that.

  But I’m still only human.

  He frowned at the woman as she took the seat beside him. “What do you mean, ‘I’m not like the others’?”

  She smirked at him as if he were being deliberately ignorant. “I mean that you’re not in here to get famous. You’re not fanning your feathers like a peacock and trying to get attention like everybody else. I don’t think the thought of being a celebrity appeals to you at all.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Then my question is: why did you apply to be on a reality TV show if you have no interest in fame?”

  Damien cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m just trying to repay a favour. I need the prize money.”

  Danni crossed her slender legs and leant in closer to him. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and
it tempted him to grab a beer for himself. The hoppy odour took him back to his wilder days where he would have been the life of the party, instead of just a spectator. But, as much as he missed the feeling of inebriation, he was adamant never to go back there.

  Danni was pulling a face at him. “You want to repay a favour?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, and that’s all I want to say about it.”

  Danni wasn’t put off by his hostile tone. She nodded thoughtfully and looked him in the eye. “Fair enough. My reasons for being here are my own as well. I’m not like the others either. Being famous is the last thing I want.”

  “And yet you are here like me.”

  “Yes, I am. Maybe we have similar agendas. Maybe we should form a pact.”

  Damien huffed. “I think I’ll be okay by myself.”

  She raised an eyebrow, thin and curvy. “You think so? The other housemates are here to party and cause chaos. When they see you sitting here and judging them like you’ve been doing all night, they’re going to vote for you every time. If you want that prize money. You have to start thinking smart.”

  Damien thought about it. As much as he hated being inside the house, he was there for a reason. If he didn’t win at least some of the money then this whole thing was a colossal waste of time. And he would have failed a dear friend.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll think about it. Let’s just see what tomorrow brings first.”

  Danni smiled and rubbed a hand on his thigh. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Damien sighed. “I’m not.”

  Day 2

  Damien’s back was aching when he opened his eyes. The sun was out and shining through the long glass window. But it was a dull sunlight and looked in no way warm.

  Damien was sprawled back on the sofa with his legs stretched out on the floor. It took him a moment to get his blurry mind focused and figure out what was going on. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and standing alcohol brought it all rushing back.

  Must have fallen asleep. Wonder what time it is.

  Oh yeah, that’s right. No watch.

  Some of the other housemates were already milling about, nursing obvious hangovers with tall glasses of water, while the rest slept on the sofa alongside Damien. Danni was still beside him, snoring softly with her head tilted back on the cushion. The metal collar around her neck blinked green from its LED lights. She still managed to look pretty somehow. Her long legs still managed to catch his gaze.

  Alex came over to the sofa and handed Damien a glass of water. The man’s eyes were red and bleary, his cheeks blotchy. His tie was loose and his top button was undone, while his slicked-back blond hair was hanging limply across his forehead.

  Damien took the drink and thanked him.

  “Think we’d have been better off following your lead,” he said. “I feel like a bag of shit. Tracey’s been throwing up in the toilet for over an hour. God knows what percent that wine was.”

  “When did you wake up?” Damien asked him.

  “Wake up? Most of us haven’t been to bed yet. Not that we’ve actually been given any beds to sleep in. You got a couple hours, though. I envy you.”

  “Did I? Feels like I was out longer.” Damien pointed his toes and sighed as his calf muscles shuddered awake. He got to his feet and rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck. “Right, well, I could do with something to eat. I’ll go see what I can rustle up.”

  Alex clicked his fingers and pointed them at Damien like guns. “Good man. You’ll be the most popular guy in the room if you can find some bacon.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  A large, barrel-chested bald man stood in the kitchen, pouring a pint of milk with a meaty hand covered in scars. He looked up with a fag in his mouth at Damien and nodded. “How’s it going?” He managed to speak while still holding the cigarette in his mouth.

  Damien nodded back at him. “Good, thanks. Sorry, I can’t quite remember your name.”

  “Chris. Don’t forget it again.”

  Damien smiled, but wasn’t entirely sure if the guy was being serious. The dirty black stubble and wide scar across the larger man’s chin gave him a menacing look that suggested any sense of humour was completely absent.

  “I’m Damien, by the way. I was going to see if I can rustle us up some breakfast.”

  “Want me to go get you an apron and some tampons?”

  Damien frowned and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Let the split arses do the cooking. You’re not a split arse, are you?”

  Damien shook his head and sighed. “Seriously, dude. It’s not the fifties anymore. Besides, I like to cook.”

  The bigger guy just pulled his face into a frown and walked away, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. Apparently Damien’s intention to cook was highly amusing to Chris.

  Don’t see him making many fans amongst the ladies of the house.

  Either that or they’ll be falling all over him. You never can tell with women.

  I certainly got more interest back when I was an arsehole. That was definitely one of the fringe benefits.

  Damien headed over to the kitchen’s large refrigerator and yanked the door open. To his delight there was a shelf piled high with bacon rashers. The door’s inside compartment housed a dozen eggs.

  If I can find some bread, we’re all set.

  Damien turned around to check the cupboards for the rest of what he needed and was greeted by Danni. Her brown eyes were sleepy but a pleasant smile adorned her face.

  “Hey, partner. Want some help?”

  “I haven’t said I’m your partner, but sure. I would love some help. We need bread.”

  Danni went over to a cupboard and pulled out a loaf of half-white. “Spotted it last night,” she said. “What are we making?”

  “Bacon and egg sandwiches.”

  “I think Jade is a vegetarian.”

  “Then she can feed herself.”

  Danni laughed. “You’re not really a morning person, are you?”

  “Not really an anytime person. This is all a bit bizarre to me, being around so many strangers.”

  Danni stepped behind him and started rubbing at his trapezius muscles. “We won’t all be strangers for long,” she said. “After a day or two we’ll all be settled in. Besides, people will be getting voted out every day, so it won’t be long before the numbers start to thin out.”

  Damien nodded. He liked the sound of that. The house would already benefit from seeing the back of thugs like Chris and temperamental divas like Jade. As much as he found Danni presumptive – and invasive with the way she was massaging his shoulders – she was probably the most tolerable person in the house.

  “So did you get much sleep?” he asked her, moving out of the grasp of her kneading palms and turning around to face her.

  She moved to the counter and started pulling slices of bread out of the bag. She placed them down in a line. “I got a little bit. I must have zonked out right after you did.”

  Damien rooted around a low cupboard and found some frying pans. He placed them on top of the kitchen’s range cooker and lit the gas hob. “I was completely knackered after all that travelling,” he said.

  “Me, too. They drove me all the way up from Kent. I was stuck in a car for twelve hours.”

  Damien winced. “Wow, I thought I had it bad. Strange that they didn’t just fly you up. I mean, it’s not very TV-like to stick one of their stars in a cramped saloon for that long. A flight to Edinburgh would have been – what? – a couple hundred quid?”

  Danni stopped what she was doing and looked at him. “Hmm,” she said. “I guess it wouldn’t have cost very much. I suppose they’re just trying to stress us all out, make us tired and more prone to combustion. You know how much reality TV producers love a bit of tension.”

  Damien nodded. “Unfortunately that’s what people seem to enjoy watching.”

  “Human nature. We love conflict.”

  “Not all
of us do.”

  “You think us all philistines, don’t you, Damien?”

  Damien grabbed a couple of eggs and began cracking them into one of the pans which he had just laced with cooking oil. “I don’t think I’m better than anybody else, but I have a better grasp on my priorities than most.”

  “How old are you?”

  He shrugged. “Twenty-three, why?”

  Danni patted him on the rump with an unexpected slap. “Because you’re twenty-three-going-on-fifty. Try to remember that you’re still young.”

  Damien broke another egg. He knew he was prone to being a stick-in-the-mud, but it was just the way he was – at least how he was lately.

  “I’ll try to loosen up,” he said. “No promises, though.”

  4

  The egg and bacon sandwiches went down well. Everybody, with the exception of Jade who had located some cereal for herself, polished them off in minutes. It was perfect timing because, right when they were finishing off the last morsels, the voice of The Landlord came over the speakers.

  “IN EXACTLY TWO MINUTES, THE DOOR TO THE GARDEN WILL OPEN.”

  That was it. The speaker crackled and went dead.

  “The plot thickens,” said Danni.

  “I hope they have a hot tub,” said Jules, sweeping back her orange hair so that it sat behind her ears.

  “They always do on these things,” said Alex. “They want to see us all naked.”

  “Let me have a few more drinks,” said Jade, “And they might get to.”

  Two minutes went by and the patio door clicked.

  Jade was the first one there, shoving people aside on her quest to be at the front of the pack. She pulled down the handle and slid the patio door aside. The cold, autumn air came whistling in from outside, along with some sideways-falling rain.