by Matt Shaw
B E F O R E
D A Y F O U R
“They said we’re having a party!” Paul came down the stairs with a basket of alcohol under his arm and a smile on his face. The group, sitting in the living area of the house, cheered as Paul approached them, putting the bottles of alcohol on the coffee table between the sofas.
As soon as the last bottle went down, loud pop music pumped into the household to another burst of cheers.
“Of course we should make the most of it,” Chris suggested, “because you know it will only be a matter of time before they turn the tables on us!” he laughed.
Jordy reached forward and grabbed one of the bottles of wine from the table, “Rude not to,” she said.
Kate sidled up next to her, “It’s only right that I help you with that,” she laughed. Meanwhile Karen and Georgia took to the clear space of the living area where they began to dance - completely carefree.
Chris sat back with a grin on his face as he watched the two girls dancing together.
“No need to ask what you’re thinking about!” Morgan laughed.
Philip was the only one who didn’t seem to care about the alcohol or the music. He stood up and walked from the room, choosing - instead - to be alone. Paul noticed and followed him.
“You’re not in the mood for a party?” he asked as he entered the bedroom. “It’s a good chance to get to know each other,” he suggested.
“What’s the point?” Philip asked as he made himself comfortable on his bed.
“It’ll be good.”
“I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“I just don’t see the point in getting to know the very people we’re going to have to eliminate over the coming weeks. You don’t want your emotions clouding the issues, do you? I know I don’t. I just want to do what is necessary and – get it done - that’s it. Nothing more and nothing less. So - yeah - forgive me if I don’t want to go drinking with any of you.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a real asshole?” Paul asked.
“Not often but - when they do - I don’t dispute it.”
Paul shook his head and walked from the room muttering under his breath, “It’s only a fucking game.”
N O W
D A Y N I N E
Day eight had been a wash-out with regards to being ‘good’ television for the production team. The housemates hadn’t spoken to each other since Jack informed them of what had been said in The Control Room. Most hadn’t even sat with one another. If what The Controller had said was true - they would potentially have to turn on each other at some point. With that playing through in the backs of their minds - none of them really felt like socialising. It was different now, though. They were all sitting together at the request of The Controller.
He had selected Paul, Stuart, Fiona and Jordy to all sit at a table whilst the rest of the group - Karen, Georgia, Jack, Chris and Kate - were all instructed to sit on the nearby sofas. The housemates on the sofa didn’t need asking twice to sit on the sofa - out of the way - and, to Jack’s surprise, neither did the housemates at the table need asking twice.
“Why are you listening to them?” Jack asked.
“You heard what was said in The Control Room yesterday. If we don’t - it’s a breach of the rules and consequences will be severe,” Paul reminded him, not that he needed reminding.
“Yeah well you just seem a little keen,” Jack pushed.
“Do you want to swap places? More than fucking welcome!” Paul spat back. “Eliminations are every Friday…Whatever this is…It’ll be fine.”
“I’m glad you trust the murderous people who stuck us in here,” Jack hissed.
“Guys! Please, just shut up… I’m sure they’ll tell us what is going on in a second - just as soon as you two stop bickering.”
“Least it’s bringing out the real you. Kept that well hidden from us when you first came in.”
“What do you think this is?” Fiona asked. She was looking at the metal helmets on the table. Each one joined to the table with a series of wires attached. Next to them were hand-held devices with a single red button on them. There was an envelope at the end of the table.
“Please put the head gear on and strap it into place,” The Controller’s voice made some of the housemates jump. Paul, and the rest of the housemates at the table, looked nervous as they did as they were instructed by putting the headsets on. They each took it in turn to strap the gear to their heads, using the chin straps.
“I don’t like this,” Jordy said. “Do we have to do this?”
“You heard what they said in The Control Room yesterday,” Paul reminded her. “Just remember what I said - eliminations are every Friday. We’ll be fine.”
It was clear from the expressions of the others, sitting alongside her at the table, that none of the housemates were particularly keen about putting the head-gear on. They were simply going through the motions because they had to.
“Housemates!” The voice boomed through the house again. “In front of you are controllers. Please take hold of these now.” The four at the table leaned forward and took hold of the buttons.
“Why are we wearing these things?” Fiona asked. She had panic written all over her face.
“There is a sealed envelope on the table. One of the housemates on the sofa should take this envelope. They are not permitted to open it.”
Chris stood up and walked to the table. He picked the envelope up and walked back to where he had been sitting.
“Housemates at the table are to take it in turns to press the red button. Each time they do, the person to the left of them will get an electric shock. Every round they make, the shocks will get stronger until the housemates are no longer able to withstand it. If they complete more rounds of the table, than written on the piece of paper in the envelope, they will win the house a luxury meal for this evening…” The Controller’s voice echoed off.
“What the fuck?” Jordy said - more or less under her breath.
Fiona thought she didn’t understand what was being asked of them so re-explained it for her, “We have to shock each other until we can’t take it anymore. We do more shocks than the number written in that envelope - we get a meal tonight.”
“I hate electric shocks,” Stuart whined.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jack called out from the sofa.
“Just be thankful it’s not you sitting here,” Paul reminded him. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”
“I don’t want electric…” Jordy’s sentence was cut off mid-way through as Paul pressed his red button. “Ow!” she complained. “This is stupid. Can’t we just give up and forgo the meal?”
“We can’t do that,” said Paul, “it would be the same as not taking part. Severe consequences. You saw what they did to the housemate who didn’t get in. They crushed him. You saw what they masterminded with Philip and Morgan… You want to risk this or you want to just get on with it?”
“Just press your button,” Stuart told Jordy. He had every right to tell her to do so as he was the one sitting to the left of her it would be him on the receiving end of it. “It’s just electric shocks. We’ll do one round and then we’ll stop. That way they can’t say we didn’t try.”
“You’re sure?” Jordy asked him.
He nodded. “Let’s just get it over and done with. As Paul said - it’s not like it’s an elimination.” He flinched as Jordy pressed her button. A second later and he pressed his - giving Fiona a mild electric shock. She didn’t bat an eyelid and immediately pressed her button with little to no hesitation. Paul jumped.
“There,” Jordy quickly spoke up, “we tried.” She turned to the five housemates watching the proceedings, “Help me get this off,” she said referring to the helmet as she fiddled with the strap. She suddenly let out a little squeal of pain and turned to Paul, “What the fuck?!”
“It wasn’t that bad, admit it. The first round…It was bearabl
e.”
“We said one round and that would be it,” Jordy protested.
“There’s no way one round will win us the luxury meal…”
“I don’t care!” Jordy said. “We said one round…”
“I don’t think they’d have put the number of rounds that high. The number in the envelope. I think it will be low to give us some sense of hope. Especially after last night. We might as well keep going until it’s too painful.” Paul turned to the rest of the group. “What do you think?”
The housemates viewing the proceedings didn’t say anything. They just sat there as the participating housemates argued amongst themselves. They knew it wasn’t up to them how far they pushed themselves. After all - they just had to watch.
“I don’t want to,” said Jordy.
“Just press it,” Stuart told her. “Otherwise your electric shock was for nothing.”
Jordy paused a moment. Stuart was right. She’d had her turn and if it stopped there than the shock she just felt would have been for nothing. Also - although unpleasant - it wasn’t that bad. “You’re sure?” she turned to Fiona and Stuart. Both nodded - Stuart a little more reluctantly than Fiona. Jordy pressed her button and shocked Stuart who - in turn - shocked Fiona who circled it back to Paul.
“Right, fine, there. We’re done,” Jordy said. Paul had other ideas and zapped her again. “Seriously - what the fuck is up with you?” she screamed.
“I actually heard that one,” Chris whispered to Jack. Jack was just sitting there, a concerned look on his face as to how far this was going to go.
“We can do one more at least,” Paul told her. “Again - you’ve had your shock. You can relax.”
“Paul - this is bullshit, man. We agreed…” Stuart protested.
“I don’t know about you but I want a decent meal tonight. Who knows what is contaminated in the kitchen from whatever shit Philip was playing around with.”
“He poured that into Morgan’s food bowl,” Fiona pointed out.
“Did he though? Did you actually see him do it? Was it the whole vial or did he put some anywhere else? I can’t be sure and if any of you are saying you are sure - well, you’re lying to yourselves.” Paul looked towards the housemates sitting on the sidelines, waiting for one of them to chip in with their thoughts.
“He is right,” Kate said - spurred on by his look.
Paul turned back to Jordy, “You’ve had your shock. Just press the button.”
She looked to Stuart, “I’m sorry.”
“Just fucking press it,” he hissed - his eyes fixed on Paul.
Jordy pressed her button quickly as though it would lessen the shock given. It didn’t. The power had increased significantly since the first round.
“Fuck!” Stuart shouted. He turned to Fiona, “Ready?”
She nodded and braced herself. She barely flinched as she was shocked. Within a split second, she too pressed her button. Paul visibly jumped at the shock.
“Go again,” Fiona barked; a look of sheer determination on her face.
Everyone looked at her - surprised by her order.
B E F O R E
F I O N A P E D D L E
Fiona was sitting opposite a table which had been set up as though it were some kind of judging panel. Unlike the room Karen had found herself in - talking about herself in front of three people and a person operating a camera - there were only two people sitting at the table. There was no camera present. In front of the two people sitting at the table were two clipboards. One, in front of the person on the left, was a page of handwritten notes. The second - had a blank piece of paper where one of them could make further notes if required.
“…And I’ll take things as far as they need to go to achieve the desired results,” Fiona said. Her eyes were fixed dead ahead at the two people sitting behind the table. They were both nodding as though she’d just given a great speech. The person, an older official looking woman, sitting on the right scribbled some notes down. She turned to the second person - a man of equal age - and nodded as though completely satisfied.
“In which way do you think you could convince the other housemates to go along with your actions? There will be some strong characters in there,” the male interviewer asked. The female poised herself to make notes.
“The trick is to be quiet and nice. Soft-spoken. That way, when you want something, people are more inclined to do it for you because they think you’re a good person. You start shouting the odds at them, ordering them around - well, they’re less likely to do anything for you and you’ll find yourself arguing more. Nice is definitely the way forward.”
The room fell silent as the lady finished writing her notes. Again, she gave a nod to her colleague.
“Well, thank you, no further questions,” he said.
Fiona relaxed, “Thank you for the opportunity. Do you know when you’ll be letting people know?”
The man didn’t answer her. He simply asked, “Can you send the next one in please?”
Fiona waited a moment, on the off chance the man was about to answer her. When it was clear he wasn’t, she nodded, stood up and left the room. A second, or two, later and Jordy walked in clutching a piece of paper.
“Please take a seat,” the man said without looking up. He pulled the top sheet from the clipboard and tossed it to one side. As Jordy took a seat, where Fiona had been sitting moments earlier, the man gave the next sheet of paper a quick scan. He looked up, “Do you have the necessary paperwork?” he asked.
“Yes.” Jordy leaned forward and slid the certificate onto the table. The female took hold of it and gave it a read. She looked to the man and nodded. He ticked something on the sheet in front of him.
N O W
D A Y N I N E
L U X U R Y
The housemates were sitting around the dining room table; the first time since witnessing Morgan choking to death. There wasn’t a trace of the blood he had coughed up though. Everything was meticulously clean (thanks to the production team working through the night). And instead of Morgan’s corpse, the table was littered with various bowls of food - roast potatoes, peas, carrots and a plate of perfectly sliced meat in the middle of it all. No one was eating. They were all looking at the food suspiciously.
“It smells so good,” Georgia pointed out.
The food did smell good. And why wouldn’t it? It was their reward for completing the electric shock task. They needed to do two rounds according to what was written in the envelope. They managed eight before they couldn’t continue.
“By all means,” Karen said, “help yourself.”
Jack turned to Paul, “You said it yourself - there are no more eliminations until Friday. Why aren’t you tucking in?”
Paul looked at Jack, and then at Chris who was also staring at him expecting him to make a move for the food. He smiled and reached for his fork. With his fork in his hand he started stabbing at the potatoes, moving them from bowl to plate. Next up he attacked the meat and did the same. The vegetables he dished up last - enough of each sort to be labeled a ‘token gesture’ as though it were programmed into him, from an early age, that - even if he didn’t like them - he should at least put some on his plate. The housemates watched as he forked one of the potatoes into his mouth. He hesitated a moment and then started to chew down on it - slowly at first and then, when he realised it actually tasted quite nice, with a little more haste. “It’s good,” he said.
The other housemates started to help themselves. Jack was the last to dish his plate up. Despite the good food, none of the housemates settled into the relationships they had made since before the first murder. All of them sat in a stony silence, unsure of what to do or how to behave.
The Controller countered the awkward silence by playing soft, classical music into the house.
Fiona piped up as she continued to eat, “Well this is nice.”
“Look this is silly,” Paul said after the room sunk into another uncomfortable silence, “we have t
o live together. We can’t do this if we’re not going to talk to each other - let alone trust one another.”
“The only way we’re going to get out of this house is if we eliminate one another. You heard The Controller. How are we supposed to trust each other when we don’t know anyone properly?” Jack said. “It’s impossible.”
“We’re just going to have to try,” said Paul.
“Easier said than done, don’t you think? Earlier you said you’d just go around the table once in that task and yet you instigated a second time round. Not forgetting, of course, that you blew someone away with a fucking hand cannon!” Chris said.
“You know why I killed him. I had to. I wasn’t given an option. And the task - the first shocks didn’t hurt. I made the right call to continue. By the way, you don’t have to thank me. You just sit there and enjoy your meal.”
“We’re going round in circles,” Georgia said, “clearly everyone is going to disagree about what has already happened but we really need to get a plan together as to how we can all survive this.”
“You want to survive? Fine. Kill everyone in this room. That’s what they were saying yesterday. That’s the only way to get out of this,” Paul said.
“There must be another way,” Jack argued.
“Look at the trouble they have gone to for this. You really think they’ll have an exit plan we can use? I’m glad you’re confident because - as I keep saying - I’m really not,” even Kate was getting involved.
“Please can everyone just stop arguing?!” Karen said.
The room fell silent.
“This is such bullshit,” Kate muttered. She threw her knife and fork down on her unfinished plate. “I’m not even hungry.”
“You have to eat,” Paul said quietly as he shovelled more food into his own mouth.
“Oh? Really? Why’s that then?” Kate snapped. “In case I starve to death?”
“Because - whatever they have planned - we’re going to need our strength,” Paul said - still keeping his voice relatively low.
