The Housemates: A Novel of Extreme Terror Read online

  Danni groaned. “God, we’re going to lose our arm if we stick it in there.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Damien. He was paying close attention to the whomp whomp of the passing blades. “They’re not spinning that fast. There’s a perhaps a second – maybe a little less – where the gap is clear. If we time it just right, we should be able to press the button and get our arm back out before the blades catch us.”

  “I’m sure it’s not as easy as you make it sound.”

  Damien took a long swallow. “I’ll go first.”

  He approached the casket and the spinning blades. His eyes fell on the thick rust stains that surrounded the enclosure, but he quickly realised that they were something else.

  Bloodstains!

  Does that mean that people have been here before? Have there been other victims going through this in the past?

  What is this place?

  Damien could feel the cool air rushing from the blades. Whomp whomp whomp!

  He took a deep breath and tried to sync his inhalations and exhalations with the spinning of the blades. He was still sure that there was a brief window between each crossing where a person could get their hand in and out.

  He breathed in.

  He breathed out.

  In…

  Out.

  In…

  Out.

  Whomp whomp whomp.

  Damien inched his hand closer. Close enough that he could feel the vibrations of the air on his fingertips. The button at the back of the closet seemed tantalisingly close. The task seemed so simple. But the timing was imperative.

  Whomp whomp whomp.

  Breathe in….

  Breathe out.

  His fingers inched closer.

  Come on. I can do this. Just pay attention to the blades.

  Whomp whomp whomp.

  Damien jabbed his hand forward like the head of an uncoiling viper. His fingertips hit hard against the rubbery plastic of the button.

  He yanked his arm back.

  Whomp!

  The fans continued spinning. Damien’s arm was still attached. He was panting like he’d just run a marathon.

  “CONGRATULATIONS, DAMIEN. YOU HAVE PASSED THIS TASK.”

  Damien took in a relieved gasp of air. “Thank God for that.”

  “Guess, I’m next,” said Danni. By the nervous twang of her voice, it was clear that she was not confident.

  “Just take a few seconds and get the timing right,” Damien told her. “You can do this. Just take some deep breathes and watch the blades.”

  Danni shook her head and smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

  Damien took a look at Lewis while Danni stepped up to the casket. “Hey, man,” he said. “You got to snap out of whatever daze you’re in. This is serious.”

  Lewis looked at Damien, but his eyes were not focusing at all. “I got this, man. Don’t….don’t worry about me…about me.”

  Damien sighed and turned around just in time to see Danni shove her hand into the gap and press the button.

  Whomp!

  She turned around and faced him, a great big smile on her face. She flapped her arms excitedly. “I did it. Fuck, I did it.”

  Damien nodded and smiled. “Good going. See, I told you that you could do it.”

  “What are we going to do about him?” Danni motioned towards Lewis who was still slumped up against the wall and bleeding.

  “I don’t know,” Damien admitted. “He’s totally out of it.”

  “HOUSEMATE DANNI, YOU HAVE SUCCEEDED AT THE TASK. HOUSEMATE LEWIS, PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM. YOU MUST MAKE YOUR ATTEMPT.”

  Without argument Lewis staggered away from the wall and approached the casket. From the blank expression on his face, he was either extremely confident or did not understand what he was doing.

  “Be careful,” Damien told him. “You have to time it just right.”

  Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!

  “I got this!” Lewis said cockily, but there was a slight slurring to his words.

  He’s on another planet. I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.

  Damien and Danni exchanged a worried glance and then watched Lewis make his attempt. He moved his hand forward slowly, a little bit at a time. It seemed like he understood the danger and was being cautious. Damien was relieved.

  Maybe he might just do this.

  Then Lewis wobbled drunkenly on his feet and fell against the casket. His arm went into the hole. He didn’t bring it back out again.

  Blood arced into the air. It filled the room in a fine mist and spattered Damien’s face.

  Lewis tumbled backwards and began giggling. His right arm was missing from just below the elbow and a jagged shard of bone jutted out of the stump. The blades inside the casket were stained red and making a grinding sound as the bracelet from Lewis’s severed wrist rattled around inside it.

  Danni turned around and gagged.

  Lewis continued giggling as some kind of shock response flooded his system with euphoric hormones. He suddenly lost the ability to stand and crumpled to the floor as though his skeleton had turned into custard.

  Damien dropped down beside Lewis and urgently placed his hands on the bleeding stump of his arm. The blood came thick and fast.

  “What do I do?” Damien cried. “I can’t stop the bleeding”

  “Do nothing,” Danni said, shaking her head and sighing. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “HOUSEMATES DAMIEN AND DANNI, PLEASE EXIT THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER. THE TASK IS OVER. CONGRATULATIONS.”

  Damien gazed down at Lewis. The guy was still giggling but the sound was becoming weak and pitiful. He was fading fast.

  “We can’t just leave him.”

  Danni took Damien by his arm. “There’s nothing you can do. Come on.”

  Damien allowed himself to be led out the room. When the door locked behind him, he couldn’t help thinking: Three down. Nine to go.

  6

  On the television screen, one of the silhouettes changed to a picture of Lewis’s dead body. The word TRICKSTER was written beneath it.

  A new image appeared on screen. It seemed to be some sort of rap sheet, like the ones police kept on criminals. In the top left corner was a photograph of Lewis with thick dreadlocks and a goatee. He looked like a different person – only the eyes were the same. To the right of the photo was a list of crimes: Counterfeiting Notes & Coins, Forgery, Fraud by False Representation, Internet Fraud, Conspiracy to Obtain Money Transfer by Deception.

  A news report began playing. It featured a stern-faced police officer standing behind a pedestal and addressing a forest of microphones.

  “Mr George Ochonogor is responsible for crimes amounting to many millions of pounds, obtained via confidence tricks and several internet-based deceptions often referred to as 419 scams. However, I am happy to report that a large part of that sum has been recovered. The suspect is, however, still at large. Mr Ochonoger is a master of deception. He has a fluent grasp of many accents, most notably from the regions of Manchester, London, Birmingham, as well as his natural Nigerian dialect. He has lived in the country now for over a decade and has become naturalised with a keen ability to blend in. During that time Mr Ochonoger has been responsible for the destruction of many lives. The people he has stolen from demand that he be made to pay for his crimes. If anybody has any information, please come forward.”

  The video finished playing.

  7

  Jade and Tracey were pretty drunk. They had necked perhaps four bottles of wine in the last few hours. It had also been noted that the wine they’d drunk on previous nights had been replaced with new bottles and a carton of cigarettes.

  “Why are they feeding us and giving us booze?” Jade slurred. “If they’re jush gonna kill usssh.”

  “Probably to keep us docile,” said Richard as he sipped from a beer can and puffed on a fag. “Make us all drunk and stupid.”

  “If you think that,” said Danni. “Then why ar
e you drinking?”

  “Because there’s naff-all else to do, sweetheart. Only thing a man likes to do is drink and fuck.”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Damien.

  Richard grunted. “What’s climbed up your arse? You look right pissed off.”

  “Why do you think that is?” said Danni. “Lewis is dead because of you. If you hadn’t of stomped on his head he might have had a chance of doing the task. I hope you saw what you did to him, you wicked man.”

  Richard smiled. “Oh, I was watching, sweetheart. I watched every second. I enjoyed watching that bloody mongrel get put down like the animal he is. If I ever get to meet The Landlord, I’ll have to shake his hand.”

  “You’re a piece of work. A man is dead and you laugh and insult him?”

  “An animal is dead. You all saw what his crimes were. He was a parasite, just like the rest of them.”

  “Makes me wonder what your crimes must be,” said Danni, narrowing her eyes at him. “I bet it’s worse than anything Lewis ever did.”

  “Sweetheart, if you don’t take your beady fucking eyes of me right now, you’re gonna lose ‘em. I ain’t guilty of nothing, so keep your goddamn trap shut.”

  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 th
at 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.”

  2

  “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 begun 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.”