Gripping Thrillers

by Iain Rob Wright

  Am I evil?

  Murderer, whore, peddler, crusader, predator, and cheat.

  Which one am I? And which ones are they?

  I don’t know if I can trust any of them.

  Damien headed back into the living area and joined the other housemates. They had all worked together on making a stew and it was now ready. The smell of boiling beef and vegetables was mouth-watering. With all that had happened, Damien had not eaten half as much as he usually would have.

  “Grub’s up,” said Richard, offering him a bowl.

  Damien took it and went and ladled himself a portion. It was bland and rubbery. It needed salt and better meat. Still, it filled the void in his stomach and instantly made him feel stronger. He could almost feel the nutrients floating through his bloodstream.

  “How you holding up?” Danni asked him.

  “Better now that I’ve eaten.”

  “And at least we have the day off.”

  Damien frowned. “I wouldn’t call it that. A reprieve maybe, but not a ‘day off’.”

  “I’m just glad we don’t have to watch anybody else die today.”

  Damien was curious about something, so he asked a question. “Which label on the television screen belongs to you?”

  Danni was about to spoon in a mouthful of stew, but she lowered her hand back to the bowl and glanced at him. “Kind of personal.”

  Damien shrugged. “What’s anybody got to be shy about? It seems like our darkest secrets will all be revealed eventually whether we like it or not. I’d just like to know you now while you’re alive, instead of after you’re dead.”

  “You think I’m going to die?”

  He shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just mean that it might be better if we confess our sins rather than have them exposed by a maniac.”

  Danni seemed to think about it for a moment; then she nodded her head slowly. “You’re right. I’m pretty sure that I’m the whore.”

  Damien raised an eyebrow. “Wow! I didn’t expect that. You don’t seem like the, ahem, whore type.”

  Danni smiled and Damien saw for the first time that she had a gap between her two upper teeth. It made her look cute and childlike. “Thank you,” she said, seeming to blush. “I’m not the person I used to be – just like you said that you’re not. I was married once, but it was never a good fit for me. I played around all the time. I just couldn’t get enough. I don’t know what it was, insecurity, immaturity. I guess both. Anyway, my husband knew that I was always sleeping around with other guys, but he pretended otherwise. I knew how much he loved me and I think he was just trying to find the best way to cope with it. I suppose he was insecure as well, otherwise he would have divorced me. Eventually I went too far.”

  Damien licked his lips and swallowed. “How?”

  “I slept with his brother.”

  “Yikes! That’s pretty cold.”

  A tear formed in Danni’s eye and she nodded solemnly. “I know. But that’s not the worst part. Sleeping with my husband’s brother was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My husband hung himself the day after he found out.”

  Damien shook his head and stared into her eyes. He imagined her husband swinging by his neck, alone when he spent his final moments. It was a tragic way to go. Danni seemed truly remorseful but, damn, if it wasn’t a terrible thing she had done. Although Damien hated the existence of such a misogynistic word, whore was a pretty accurate way to describe her actions.

  “Anyway,” Danni said, wiping the tears from her eyes before they had chance to fall. “I did a lot of thinking after that; re-evaluated my life. Indirectly or not, I killed my husband – a kind and caring man. I carry the guilt with me always, but I try to harness it to make better decisions. My husband died three years ago. I haven’t slept with a man since.”

  Damien let out a deep breath as he digested what he had just been told. As much as he condemned Danni’s actions, he was in no place to judge. The man he had once been was no better than the woman she once was.

  “I was a drug dealer,” he admitted. “And a bully.”

  Danni’s eyes went wide. “Really? You? But you don’t even drink.”

  He laughed, but it was more from embarrassment. “When I threatened Richard last night, that was the real me; the me that I’ve been trying to run away from for the last few years.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  Damien shrugged. “Well, whether or not you believe it, I did some pretty horrible things. The fact that I’ve kept my nose clean for the last couple years doesn’t erase all of that.”

  “No, but it’s a start.”

  “Obviously not enough of one, or I wouldn’t be here.”

  Danni reached out and placed a hand on her knee. “It’s not your fault that you’re here. You don’t deserve this.”

  He smiled at her. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you should forgive yourself for your husband’s death. Suicide was his choice. He could have just divorced you. Doing what he did was probably just his revenge. You should let it go.”

  She seemed like she might start sobbing at any moment, but somehow managed to smile back at him. “Thank you, Damien.”

  “You’re welcome. Now come on, I fancy a drink.”

  “But I thought you didn’t touch alcohol.”

  “I don’t, but if I’m going to die, what the hell!”

  He checked in the fridge and grabbed a beer. Danni asked for wine but there were no bottles left, so he headed over to the pantry. For a moment he worried that entering would seem like another attempt to escape, but when he tried the handle, it was locked. He banged the door with his fist and it held firm.

  “They’ve cut us off,” he said.

  “That sucks,” said Danni. “I wouldn’t let Jade know or she’ll kick off.”

  “And then she’ll blame me,” said Damien.

  “No, I won’t.” Jade had heard his comment and was frowning at him from the sofa. “What would be the point in blaming you? They did this to us, not you. Still sucks, though. I could really do with a goddamn drink. I’m starting to stress about tomorrow when we have to start with their games all over again.”

  Damien took a swig of the beer and gasped at the harsh yet satisfying taste. “There’s still plenty of beers left,” he said. “We’re not doomed just yet.”

  “HOUSEMATES, PLEASE ASSEMBLE IN THE LIVING AREA.”

  Jules leapt up from the sofa. “What? We’re supposed to be safe tonight. They said no tasks.”

  “You goddamn LIARS,” Jade shouted at the ceiling. “LIARS!”

  Damien reached out to her. “Calm down, Jade. There’s no point getting wound up.”

  Jade shoved him away. “Fuck you, Damien. Who do you think you are? Trying to tell everybody what to do like the Dalai Lama or something?”

  Damien frowned at her. “What?”

  “Just get the hell away from me.” She stomped off towards the sofa.

  Danni leant in and whispered. “She can flip like a switch, can’t she?”

  Damien decided not to take offence and went and sat on the sofa. He began to wonder what The Landlord had in store for them this time. He had said there would be no tasks, so what was going on?

  “HOUSEMATES, TONIGHT THERE WILL BE A VOTE.”

  “What the hell?” said Jules. “No way.”

  “BUT THIS VOTE IS NOT FOR A TASK. TONIGHT THE HOUSEMATE WITH THE MOST VOTES WILL HAVE THEIR SINS REVEALED. YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO MAKE YOUR CHOICE.”

  “What does he mean by that?” asked Danni.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Richard remarked snarkily. “Someone is going to get their video shown. Seeing as how you all have it in for me, I guess it’s going to be mine.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Damien. “We already know that you’re an arsehole, so what would we have to gain from seeing your past transgressions?”

  “Good point,” said Danni. “Then who?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t vote,” said Patrick. The old
er man suddenly looked very nervous. “We can refuse.”

  Damien shook his head. “They’ll just use the toxin on us, and believe me, you don’t wanna feel that.”

  “Then what then?” Danni asked.

  “How about spin the bottle?” Jules suggested. She was staring at one of the empty wine bottles on the table.

  Everyone looked at one another and then Danni shrugged her shoulders. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Okay,” said Damien. “Let’s do it.”

  Everybody gathered in a circle around the table and then got down on their knees. Jade swiped an arm across the table to clear it of all debris. Then Jules placed the wine bottle in the centre of the table.

  “Everybody ready?” she asked.

  There were nervous nods all around. It seemed like nobody was happy about the prospect of having their ‘sins’ exposed, but they also all understood that there was no point fighting it.

  Jules spun the wine bottle on the glass surface of the table. It spun fast, becoming a blurred circle.

  Then it began to slow down, passing between those gathered around it.

  Jade.

  Damien.

  Danni.

  Tracey.

  Richard.

  Patrick.

  Jules.

  Jade.

  Damien.

  Danni.

  Tracey.

  Richard.

  Patrick.

  Jules.

  Jade.

  Damien…

  Danni…

  …Tracey…

  …Richard…

  …

  …Patrick.

  The bottle stopped on Patrick and immediately the older man’s eyes went wide. He cleared his throat and stood up. He was trembling.

  “Hey, Patrick,” said Damien. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I…I don’t want to see what they have on me. It will just be a whole load of lies. We don’t even know that any of the videos we’ve seen are real. They could be manipulated. People can do anything with computers these days.”

  Damien nodded and smiled reassuringly. “I know. Don’t worry. We all have secrets. We won’t hold them against you.”

  “Depends what the secret is,” said Richard.

  Damien opened his mouth to object but then closed it again. Richard was right. Not everything was forgive-able.

  “Oh God,” said Patrick. “I feel quite sick. I think I’m going to get some fresh air in the garden.”

  Patrick left them all in the living room and headed out through the patio door. It had begun to rain again, but so far it was only a drizzle and a pitter patter at the window.

  Behind them, on the television screen, a video began to play.

  A handsome man in his twenties appeared alongside another man who might have been his twin. Both were wearing smart shirts and silky ties.

  “In some ways we should thank Patrick Mitchell. If it wasn’t for him, my brother and I would probably not have been driven to start up our successful chain of health spas. Our success came as a direct consequence of trying to run away from the people we were – the victims that we were made to be. But, as far as we’ve come and as hard as we’ve run, we’ve never been able to get away from that man. He’s always with us – always will be.

  The other brother took over. “Patrick Mitchell – Mr Mitchell – was our third-year teacher when we were eight years old. He fucked us both. It didn’t matter that we were children and that we cried out in pain, nothing would stop him sticking his dick in our mouths every chance he got. I doubt we were the only ones. He was good at frightening us into silence. Long enough that, by the time we had grown up enough to want to do something about it, we had already moved too far with our lives. We had become adults with families and children of our own. We couldn’t put them through the hell of going public. Fortunately, having money allows you to do a lot of things in private. Paying for Patrick Mitchell’s death is something we would do a hundred times over. I would gladly go bankrupt to see that man dead. I can’t wait to see him suffer. I hope he thinks of us as he dies. I hope he sees our faces like we see his every night when we lie next to our wives.”

  The video finished. The word PREDATOR flashed on the screen.

  18

  “I’m going to bleedin’ kill him,” said Richard, leaping to his feet and grabbing the wine bottle up off the table. “That fucking nonce!”

  “Just wait a minute,” Damien said. “Don’t do anything hasty.”

  Richard glared at Damien. “Are you kidding? The guy’s a goddamn child molester. Nothing is worse.”

  Damien took a deep breath and held it. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t condone violence – at least not anymore – but what Patrick had done made him feel sick to his soul. Despite wanting to do something to stop Richard, he found himself rooted to the spot as the furious man stormed out into the garden with the wine bottle grasped firmly in his hand.

  “Hope he kills him,” Jade said, sneering.

  “We can’t just start killing each other,” said Jules.

  “We can when it’s a sick paedophile like Patrick.”

  “Maybe we should do something,” Danni suggested to Damien.

  Damien still didn’t know what to do. He was conflicted. He kept thinking of those poor brothers as children. What misery they must have gone through.

  Outside, Patrick began to cry out.

  That was enough to get Damien moving. He hurried out into the garden with the others following right behind him.

  Richard was standing over Patrick in the rain by the wall with the eyeball painting. He had the bottle raised above his head. The bloody gash on Patrick’s forehead suggested that he had already been struck at least once.

  “Richard, wait,” Damien yelled.

  Richard spun around. “Why are you trying to stop me? This piece of shit needs putting down like a sick animal.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” Patrick whimpered on the ground. “Please leave me alone.”

  “You’re a paedophile,” Jade snarled at him. “You’re an animal.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was a good teacher. I never did anything wrong.”

  “Who said this had anything to do with you being a teacher?” said Damien.

  Patrick shook his head. “W-what?”

  “You said you were a good teacher, but we never said otherwise, which makes me think it’s true that you abused your position.”

  Richard kicked Patrick in the ribs. “How many little boys did you bugger?”

  Patrick howled in pain and scuttled along on his back like a crab. “Please,” he begged. “It’s all lies. I’m innocent. Please stop!”

  Richard kicked him again. “Is that what the children used to say to you? Did you stop when they begged you to leave them alone?”

  Suddenly Patrick’s face twisted into one of fury. He spat at Richard. “How dare you judge me. All of you are here for the same reason. You’re all bad people – selfish people – evil people. You’re all monsters. Yet you feel you have the right to judge me? I took what I wanted, just like all of you.”

  Damien shook his head. “Even evil has limits, Patrick. If you did what you’ve been accused of, then there’s a special place in Hell for you.”

  “I’ll see you all there,” he spat.

  Richard swung the bottle down again and it cracked off the side of Patrick’s head. Patrick fell back onto the grass, cross-eyed and stunned. Richard knelt down and swung the bottle once more. The glass finally gave way and wicked shards showered the older man’s face as the bottle smashed across his nose. He rolled onto his stomach and started crawling through the grass like a worm. Damien shook his head with pity.

  Then he turned and walked away.

  Richard stayed outside with the broken bottle and finished what he’d started, while the huge painted eye watched on.

  Day 6

  “HOUSEMATES, PLEASE GATHER IN THE GARDEN FOR TODAY’S TASK.”
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  Everybody got up from the sofa and headed out into the garden. Patrick lay dead at the far side of the courtyard. Nobody had bothered to move him. Sarah’s body was a dozen feet past him, rotting in the corner of the courtyard. It was beginning to feel like a graveyard.

  Today’s task was earlier than usual. It still felt like morning to Damien, or at least early-afternoon. It was a cold, grey day and it looked like rain would resume at any moment.

  The platform in the grass courtyard began to rise up out of the ground. This time it contained five glass containers full of clear liquid.

  “THIS TASK IS MANDATORY. ALL HOUSEMATES MUST PARTICIPATE. IN FRONT OF YOU ARE FIVE SMALL VATS OF SULPHURIC ACID. HOUSEMATES ARE TO PLACE THEIR LEFT HANDS INTO EACH OF THE VATS. HOUSEMATE RICHARD MUST REMOVE THE BANDAGES PLACED ON HIS HAND FROM THE PREVIOUS TASK. THE THREE HOUSEMATES THAT KEEP THEIR HAND IN THE ACID THE LONGEST WILL BE EXEMPT FROM TONIGHT’S TASK. THE OTHER TWO HOUSEMATES WILL GO HEAD TO HEAD.”

  Everybody groaned. “I can’t do this,” said Jules. “My hand is already messed up from ripping off all my nails.”

  “FAILURE TO ATTEMPT THE TASK WILL RESULT IN NEUROTOXIN BEING RELEASED.”

  Jules put her palms against her forehead and started to cry softly. She wasn’t freaking out like she usually did and actually seemed resigned to having to do the task.

  “This is really going to suck,” said Tracey.

  “Come on,” said Jade. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Everyone lined up in front of the vats. The liquid was clear and odourless. Damien sighed as he looked at the innocuous substance. It looked no different to lemonade, but he knew it was far more deadly. A high school Chemistry lesson came back to him, making him remember something about sulphuric acid literally pulling the water from your skin cells and melting your flesh. It might have just been the teacher’s way of scaring the class, but maybe it was true.

  The anticipation of touching the liquid was enough to make Damien’s stomach churn, but not participating would likely result in his death. As much as he had previously been ready to die, today was a new day and his will to survive had reasserted itself. The longer he stayed alive, the more chance he might have of an opportunity to fight back against his tormentors.