Gripping Thrillers

by Iain Rob Wright

  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 will listen. I am not a violent man, not at all, but once upon a time I’m afraid that I was. In fact, I was one mean little tracksuit-wearing, drug-snorting, beat the shit out of you and your friends, motherfucker. 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.”

  Richard smirked defiantly, but Damien could tell that the man’s confidence was rocked. His cocky, self-assurance had been unbalanced. His testicles were shrinking. Damien couldn’t let the little peanuts recover.

  “Now, you might be thinking to yourself that I am just making an empty threat, that my bark is worse than my bite. That’s why I’m asking you, right now, Richard, if you do not believe me, come and try me. Come over here and I will tear you apart like wrapping paper at Christmas. I will make you part of the carpet. Because you see, you racist piece of shit, I will beat you so bad that your goddamn soul will be bruised. They’ll have to bury you in a coffin full of Tupperware containers.”

  Richard went to speak but Damien waved a hand.

  “Richard, if you want to see how sharp my teeth are, just open your mouth one more time. That’s all it’s going to take.”

  Richard’s eyes narrowed. His lips kept moving as if he was unsure whether or not to speak – whether or not to answer the challenge. Eventually he just got up from the sofa and took his beer and cigarette away with him into the garden.

  All of the other housemates stared at Damien with wide, unblinking eyes. He knew their looks well. It was the expression of fear and respect. It was a look he used to get all the time on the Birmingham council estates.

  Guess I still got it.

  He leaned back against the sofa and took a deep breath. His knee was shaking and he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his system. What he was feeling was something he loathed and constantly fought to keep at bay, so much so that it sometimes made him feel nauseous. It was a thirst for violence.

  Yet, as much as he hated it, God did it feel good.

  Day 4

  Damien had decided to take up one of the rickety beds in the bedroom across the garden. He’d chosen it last night, right after he had helped Alex drag Sarah’s body from the kitchen over to a spot at the far corner of the courtyard. Everybody wanted her body as far away as possible. Jules and Danni had cleaned up all the blood from the tiles.

  The mattress on which Damien now lay was ripped, its springs digging at his back, but it was still a bed; just being in one made sleep easier. It was a ritual the body needed. It was still unclear why The Landlord had provided the housemates with only six beds, but Damien imagined it was just another way of breaking their will.

  Besides Damien, only Alex, Jules, and Danni chose to sleep in the bedroom. Jade, Catherine, Richard, Tracey, and Patrick slept in the living area on the sofa. Two groups had formed and Damien reluctantly accepted that the other group was closer-knit than the one he was a part of. Alex, for example, had voted for Damien twice now, and Jules was skittish and likely to do whatever was best for her. Ironically, the only person he trusted at all was Danni; the one who had said from the beginning that they should be partners, that they were the same.

  I just hope I get a break from the head to head eliminations. I’m not sure I can take another one.

  “You awake?” Danni whispered from the next bed over. She was clutching at her metal collar and trying to scratch at the aggravated skin beneath.

  “Yeah. I’ve been awake a little while, just thinking.”

  “Me too. I have no idea what time it is. I think it’s almost midday.”

  Damien sat up on the bed and rubbed sleep from his eyes, adjusted his collar and bracelets. Scabs had formed underneath. “I think that, too. There’ll be a task to do soon.”

  Danni groaned. “Can’t wait. Wonder what sick torment will be imposed on us today.”

  “Come on, guys. I don’t want to think about it.” It was Jules speaking from another one of the beds. “My fingers are killing me after what I had to do yesterday. The pain has kept me awake all night. Don’t think I can go through any more torture. I certainly can’t cope getting voted into a head to head tonight.”

  “Maybe you won’t have to,” said Danni.

  “What do you mean?” Jules asked.

  “Well, if we all agree to vote for another member of the group, we should be okay.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Alex, the final member of their group joining in the conversation. “There’s always at least two that go into the head to heads. We would only be able to vote one person in. The rest of them would probably be voting for one of us. Plus we don’t know who will be immune yet.”

  “Well, okay,” said Danni. “I suppose I’m just trying to make the point that we can help our odds a little.”

  “I like the idea,” said Jules. “Who would we vote for?”

  “Dunno, who would you like to?”

  “Jade, maybe? Or Richard. He’s pretty horrible.”

  “It’s not fair to conspire,” Damien said.

  Alex huffed. His blond hair was fanned out like a peacock. “And you don’t think they’re planning against us?”

  “Exactly,” said Danni. “I think we should all vote Richard. After what he did to Lewis, we can’t risk having him in the house any longer. He could attack one of us next.”

  “I sorted the Richard problem out,” said Damien. “He got the message.”

  Danni shrugged. “You don’t know that. He might just be thinking things through; planning a way to take you out. You were pretty harsh to him last night, not that the pig didn’t deserve it.”

  “Okay,” said Jules. “I’m going to vote for Richard.”

  “Me too,” Alex agreed.

  “And me,” Danni added. “How about you Damien? You with us?”

  Damien looked at them all, absorbed their apprehensive stares, and then allowed himself to be convinced. As much as he didn’t like it, he accepted that this was how the game would have to be played. He didn’t want to face another head to head. It was somebody else’s turn.

  “Okay,” he said. “We’ll vote for Richard.”

  14

  “HOUSEMATES, PLEASE GIVE YOUR VOTES.”

  “I vote for Richard,” Danni said immediately, following the plan they had made earlier in the bedroom.

  “Me too,” said Alex.

  Richard scowled at him. “Big mistake, little man. You better hope I don’t come back out.”

  Alex fiddled with his tie nervously. “It’s nothing personal, Richard.”

  “The hell it isn’t.”

  “I vote for Richard too,” said Patrick. “You can threaten me all you like, young man, but you won’t frighten me.”

  Richard huffed. “We’ll see about that, Grand dad.”

  Damien was surprised to see someone on the ‘other team’ voting for one of their own. Perhaps they were not as close knit as he’d believed. Patrick seemed, at the very least, to be a neutral party. The older man had also stood up to Chris, too, during the first voting session.

  The guy obviously doesn’t like bullies. Good on him.

  Damien cleared his
throat. “I vote Richard.”

  “Screw, you all,” he said. “Vote for me, I don’t give a damn. Whoever is up against me is worm food.”

  “I vote for Alex,” said Tracey. “He clicks his fingers all the time and it’s really annoying.”

  Alex became flustered. “What? You’re going to vote for me because of a habit?”

  Tracey shrugged her shoulders. “It’s annoying.”

  “I vote for Alex as well,” said Richard, beginning to chuckle. He nodded to Alex and began laughing harder. “Looks like you’re about to shit your pants, mate. That’s two votes for you. I fancy my chances against a faggot banker.”

  Alex was turning pale. “Oh, God.”

  Catherine gave her vote next. “I vote for Danni. I’m tired of having to stare at her legs all the time. I’ve never seen such short skirts.”

  I know what you mean, thought Damien.

  Danni shrugged and seemed to take the comment in her stride.

  Jade was the only one with a vote left. She used to it to seal Alex’s fate.

  “HOUSEMATES RICHARD AND ALEX WILL COMPETE IN TONIGHT’S HEAD TO HEAD ELIMINATION. PLEASE STAND BY.”

  Alex began breathing erratically, pacing back and forth.

  Richard sneered at him and laughed. “That’s it, mate. I would be shitting myself too. You ain’t got no chance against me.”

  “Shut it, Richard,” Damien warned him.

  “Else what? You’ll give me another one of your tough guy speeches. Give me a break.”

  Damien decided to take another tack. He went over to Alex and took the anxious man to one side. “Don’t listen to him, Alex. He’s just trying to get inside your head. You have as much chance of coming through this as him. Take it from a guy who has already survived two of these things. Just stay calm and focus.”

  Alex pulled his tie loose, unbuttoned his collar. “I can’t stay calm, man. I’m shitting a brick here. What the hell will they have me do?”

  “I don’t know,” said Damien. “Just keep your mind in the moment. You think ahead and you’ll just make yourself panic.”

  Alex took some deep breathes and then nodded enthusiastically. The smell of sweat wafted from his pores. “You’re right. I just got to go in there ninja-style and do what I have to do. No fear, right?”

  “Exactly. No fear.”

  “HOUSEMATES ALEX AND RICHARD, ENTER THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER.”

  “Christ, here goes,” said Alex. He took a few moments to collect himself and then clicked his fingers like a pair of guns. “Let’s do this.”

  Richard positively swaggered over to the Elimination Chamber door. It was unlikely that the guy was completely without fear, but he was doing a good job of masking it. It was more than likely just a mind game to try and unnerve Alex. In all honesty it was a smart thing to do.

  Damien sat down on the sofa in the living area and stared at the viewing screen. Everybody else took a seat around him.

  “You’ll be able to see everything from here,” said Patrick. “We’ve watched your last two tasks.”

  Damien stared at the television as it switched from displaying the grid of silhouettes to a live video feed that was coming from inside the white cube room.

  Alex and Richard were now inside. The door had closed behind them. In front of the two men was an aluminium table with a hose attached at one end. Two pipes stuck up from the centre of the table about a foot apart.

  Damien groaned. “What the hell have they got in store this time?”

  “HOUSEMATES RICHARD AND ALEX, WELCOME TO THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER. YOUR TASK IS SIMPLE…”

  Two gouts of flame ignited from the two steel pipes on the aluminium table.

  “HOLD YOUR HAND OVER THE FLAME. WHOEVER LASTS THE LONGEST WINS. THE LOSER WILL BE EVICTED.”

  The sound feed coming from inside the room was crystal clear. Damien could hear everything, could hear the other men’s fearful breathing. Richard even went so far as to voice his reluctance.

  “You bleeding psycho. Is this how you get your jollies? You better hope we don’t meet.”

  “HOUSEMATES, YOU MUST BEGIN THE TASK IN THREE SECONDS OR BOTH OF YOU WILL BE DECLARED LOSERS. 3…2…1…

  Richards and Alex both sucked in a breath and thrust their palms over the red hot flame coming from the pipes. The flaming apparatus was not dissimilar to high school Bunsen burners, but with a far more morbid purpose.

  Both men started to yell. Richard let out a manly bellow, but Alex’s screams were like that of a child.

  The resolution of the viewing screen in the living area was so high that Damien could see the smoke trails beginning to form. He could see the men’s flesh begin to blister and boil at the edges. He could only imagine the damage being done to their hands.

  Alex fell forward onto the table, but kept his hand in place. He was making animal grunting noises and stamping his feet. Richard gritted his teeth and tensed his entire body, went still like a statue. He was completely silent now and took deep, slow breaths, almost as if he were trying to meditate through the pain.

  “This is sick,” said Tracey. “I can smell them burning.”

  Damien couldn’t smell anything and wondered if the woman was exaggerating or if her horrified mind had merely created the imagined odour of singed flesh.

  Alex began to sag, his knees bending, his legs bowing. Sweat poured out of him in great gouts and his eyes began to roll back in his head.

  Then he slumped to the floor.

  Richard saw that his competitor had taken his palm away from the flame and quickly followed suit. He yanked away his own hand and backed into the nearest wall. He was snarling with pain, but also had a relieved grin on his face.

  “HOUSEMATE ALEX, YOU HAVE LOST THIS TASK. YOU ARE ELIMINATED FROM THE COMPETITION.”

  Alex tried to get to his feet but was only able to make it to his knees. He clutched his burned raw hand against his stomach while reaching at the ceiling with his other. “No, please,” he begged. “Don’t kill me. Please, just-”

  Alex’s words were cut off. His eyes bulged. Blood escaped his nose. He clutched at his wrists desperately, but after only a few seconds, he collapsed face down on the floor. He died the exact same way as Chris, poisoned by the neurotoxin.

  “CONGRATULATIONS, HOUSEMATE RICHARD. PLEASE LEAVE THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER. BANDAGES AND ANTISEPTIC HAVE BEEN PROVIDED IN THE PANTRY. PLEASE TEND TO YOUR WOUNDS.

  15

  The customary video, intended to condemn Alex, appeared onscreen. Everybody sat quietly on the sofa while it played. It began with the word ‘COWARD’ being displayed on screen.

  A CCTV feed began. It was in black and white and seemed to have been recorded at night. The scene showed an empty road, a zebra crossing in the foreground.

  A stranger appeared on the screen. It was a young woman. She was dressed as though she’d been on a night out, high heels and glitzy dress. She was about halfway across the zebra crossing when a long silver Mazda hit her. Fortunately the car had only been travelling at about 20mph, but that just made it even more bizarre that the driver hadn’t managed to stop in time.

  Then it became clear. The CCTV images showed a clearly inebriated man falling out of the Mazda. The man was undoubtedly Alex if the platinum blond hair was anything to go by. He was wearing a crumpled suit and had party streamers hanging from his neck. He’d obviously been at some sort of do; perhaps some opulent function arranged by the bank.

  Alex stared down at the woman on the ground and shook his head in obvious horror. The victim was badly injured, but still conscious. She reached out to Alex weakly.

  He continued staring down at her for a moment longer.

  Then he got back in his car and drove away.

  The CCTV video feed ended and a young woman in a wheelchair appeared on screen. A huge divot of missing flesh scarred the left side of her face. She was smiling, but the expression was ugly. When she spoke she sounded manic. “I was pregnant, you bastard. But I found you. Ha! I found you,
you bastard. I know who you are, Alex Strickland. Now you’re going to pay.”

  The video ended. A picture of Alex’s dead face appeared amongst the silhouettes.

  Another one down.

  16

  The mood was sombre. Night had fallen over the house like a clinging blanket. The garden outside was nothing but a black square through the window. The remaining housemates were sharing a couple of bottles of wine, but no one was hitting the alcohol as hard as before. Nobody had even spoken in the last hour or so. Even Richard was contemplative as he picked at the bandages he had taken from the pantry and applied to his severely burned hand. Nobody had offered to help him.

  “We’re so screwed,” said Jules. “Alex was a big time banker. The people doing this to us don’t care about the consequences. We’re just going to disappear off the face of the earth as far as the outside world is concerned.”

  “Does anybody even know where we are?” Patrick asked. His skinny neck looked odd inside the large metal collar.

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Damien answered. “I looked under my hood when we were on the bus. I think we’re pretty far north, in the Highlands or something.”

  Patrick raised an eyebrow at him. “You managed to take a look? Did you see anything at all?”

  “Just hills and mud. Like I said, the middle of nowhere.”

  Everybody seemed to deflate.

  “So even if we get away, there’s nowhere to run,” said Jade.

  Damien shrugged. “Who knows? I doubt they plan on letting any of us get back to civilisation. They can’t have us exposing what’s going on here.”

  “What about the winners, though?” Jules asked. “They said we can still win the money. Surely they will let the winners go.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “It’s still the only chance we have,” said Patrick. “I’m still intending to win if I can. I don’t want to see anybody else hurt, but I’m going to do what I have to; anything that means me staying alive.”