Control: A Novel of Psychological Horror and Suspense Page 4

  “I don’t care about what is going on. I just want out.” Kate spat.

  “Whatever you want - we need to talk to them. I’ll go in, in the morning, when we’re allowed out of this fucking room,” Paul took charge.

  “And what - we’re supposed to trust what you tell us?” Chris asked.

  “We’ll all go and see them tomorrow. All of us,” Jack suggested. No one disagreed with him.

  Paul turned back to Stuart, “So…Are we bed buddies still or do I need to make up a space on the floor?”

  Stuart moved to his side of the bed and smiled. He wasn’t happy about the situation but he didn’t disagree with what Paul was saying; the reasons he killed had Philip. Paul climbed onto the bed next to Stuart.

  “So what now?” Kate asked.

  The production team answered her question by shutting off the bedroom lights despite knowing that none of the housemates would be sleeping that night.

  B E F O R E

  D A Y O N E

  There was a free for all more or less as soon as the bedroom doors opened - signalled by the red light around the door switching to a green colour and the sound of a ‘click’ coming from the remote control lock. The excitement was obvious and not just because of the bedroom being unlocked but also because they were finally in the house after months of waiting after having passed through the audition process. Philip lead the way as he was closest to the door when it unlocked but was closely followed by the rest of the group with everyone splitting off in their own direction as soon as they’d got through the narrow door.

  “It’s gorgeous!” Jordy said as she cast her eyes around the room for the first time. “I could get used to this kind of luxury.” And it was luxury. The double beds and single beds had the best mattresses on them and were covered in thick duvets. The pillows, filled with feather, were thick enough that, no matter your preference, you would only need one for a good night’s sleep and everything was nicely decorated with space being utilised to the max with additional clothes space in drawers underneath the beds. Jordy sat on one of the large double beds.

  Karen approached her, “Do you mind if I share with you?” she asked.

  “No - not at all.” She jumped up, “Which side would you prefer?”

  Paul and Stuart were standing at one of the other double beds. Paul turned to Stuart and said, “What about it? Bed buddies? I sleep like the dead…”

  “So long as you don’t fart during the night!”

  “Can’t make any promises,” Paul laughed.

  “If you boys need to do that - you can go to the bathroom,” Georgia pointed out.

  Philip put his jumper down on the corner bed as though to claim it as his own. He turned to the other housemates who were busy claiming their beds too - some with no fuss and some with lots of fuss as they believed they should have had their own bed; Kate being one of the most ‘put out’ at the thought of having to share with a stranger.

  “Well I’d swap but pretty sure…” Philip turned to the older lady Kate had been paired with, who was preparing her side of the bed, “…Sorry what was your name again?”

  “Fiona.”

  “Ah yes - sorry, I’m rubbish with names. Anyway, as I was saying, I’d swap but pretty sure Fiona wouldn’t be happy about sharing with a man. And - on another note - I’m sorry to announce to the room that I do snore.”

  The room groaned in unison. Stuart jokingly looked up to one of the cameras hanging from the ceiling and asked, “Can we have permission to set Philip up his own bed in the garden?”

  “Just throw something at me, it’s fine!” Philip suggested.

  “Can’t we just smother you with a pillow?” Paul asked.

  N O W

  The room was near enough pitch-black to encourage the group to sleep and yet no one had drifted off. All of them lying there, lost in their own personal thoughts. Jack was lying in his single bed staring up at the ceiling whilst Chris was doing the same in the single bed near to him.

  Paul’s comment, on the first night in the house, kept playing through Jack’s exhausted (and confused) mind along with the comment he’d said in the garden a couple of days later about bashing Morgan’s brains in. Both comments - at the time - that Jack had found quite funny. He presumed Paul had a dark sense of humour, much like his own. But now - lying in the black of the night - he wondered whether Paul had ever really been joking or whether the murderous comments were part of his somewhat darker psyche.

  Had Paul been called to The Control Room and offered the poison, instead of Philip, would he have used it as freely his now ‘ex’ housemate had? He rolled onto his side and looked in the general direction of the bed Paul shared with Stuart. Two outlines lying on the mattress; one seemingly on his side and the second - sitting bolt-upright. Jack couldn't help but wonder which was which. Was Paul trying to get to sleep whilst Stuart was sitting up or was it the other way around? Stuart desperately trying to get to sleep whilst Paul was sitting up surveying the room. Perhaps - in his mind - wondering who would be the best to eliminate next for ‘the good of the house’.

  “Maybe none of it is real?” Chris whispered.

  Jack didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure if Chris was talking to him. Hard to tell with little to no light in the room.

  “What do you think?” Chris continued.

  “You talking to me?” Jack whispered back.

  “Yes. Maybe everything is a trick? Some kind of sick game to see how we would react if we were forced to bump each other off?” he continued - sure to keep his voice low. “The ultimate test of how far you’d go for the prize money?”

  Jack thought about it for a while. When they first went into the house and had watched the walls close in on Richard, they’d all laughed as though it were some sick illusion set up to unsettle them - had Chris and he been having this conversation back then, he’d have been inclined to agree but… Morgan was coughing up blood as he choked and Philip… The way his body moved as each slug penetrated him, the way the blood splattered the scene. It was all too real. Jack didn’t think it was a trick. He didn’t think it was fake. But, even so, he didn’t have the right to take away someone’s hope. “Maybe,” he said.

  “If it’s not,” Chris continued, “who do you think we need to be wary of? You think Paul is one to watch after what happened earlier?” Chris’ voice was low but that didn’t stop Jack from worrying Paul could hear every word being spoken. “What he said earlier - if you think about it - it kind of made sense, didn’t it?”

  “We should try and get some sleep,” Jack whispered. “It’s going to be a tough day tomorrow.”

  He turned his back on Chris and closed his eyes. He half-expected Chris to keep talking, keep asking questions, but was relieved when he didn’t continue with his train of thoughts - at least, not out loud. Like many of the other housemates, he laid there in silence, unsure of what to say for the best.

  “I can’t sleep!” Jordy said out loud, breaking the uncomfortable silence filling the room.

  B E F O R E

  J O R D Y H I N T O N

  D A Y F O U R

  Kate and Jordy were sitting in the corner of the garden. A heater between the two kept them outside despite the sun having gone down and the temperature dropping. The other housemates were indoors where they continued to enjoy a party thrown for no other reason than generosity. Music was pumping through the house and alcohol was free flowing. At least the alcohol had been free flowing - now it was very much drying up.

  “I would say… I don’t know,” Jordy giggled.

  “Yes, you do!”

  The pair of them were discussing which of the housemates they found attractive. Kate managed to worm her way out of giving her own answer by playing the ‘boyfriend outside’ card.

  “I don’t. I haven’t really thought about it!” Jordy laughed.

  “Of course you have! I’ve noticed you looking at them.”

  “Jack. I’d say I fancied Jack!”

  “I kn
ew it!” Kate laughed. “And…Really? What about Morgan?”

  Both girls laughed.

  “And speak of the devil,” Kate continued. The smile instantly faded from her face as she watched the french doors slide open and Morgan step out.

  “Oi, oi! You two look like you’re having fun…” he called out, a drunken slur very evident in his voice.

  “We were,” Kate muttered under her breath. She looked at Jordy and rolled her eyes.

  “How much has he had to drink?” Jordy whispered.

  “Can’t say I blame him - not like he has had the warmest of receptions from everyone. Although - only has himself to blame. The guy is a prick.”

  Morgan sat next to Jordy and put his arm around her. It was clear from her expression, even in her drunken state, this wasn’t welcome.

  “So what are we talking about then?”

  Neither of the girls was quick to answer him. Kate was trying very hard not to just tell him to fuck off and Jordy was doing some subtle squirming in the hope Morgan would remove his arm. Kate was the first to break the awkward silence.

  “We were having a private conversation.”

  “Okay. What about?”

  Kate rolled her eyes again and stood up before walking from the garden after telling Jordy, “I’m going to get another drink.”

  Morgan and Jordy watched as Kate disappeared into the living area of the house. She slid the door shut so Morgan didn’t follow - not that he was planning to. He turned to Jordy with a smile on his face, “So…How about it then?”

  “How about what?”

  “You and me. I think we’d make a cute couple. I mean - obviously - I’d be the cuter one but I reckon we would look good together.” he gave her a cheesy wink. Jordy looked at him. She couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.

  “How drunk do you think I am?” Jordy asked.

  “I’m hoping drunk enough?” Morgan flashed her another smile.

  A shiver ran down her back.

  “Besides,” he continued, “Georgia wasn’t interested and Fiona isn’t my cup of tea.”

  “How old are you again?” Jordy laughed.

  “Don’t think of it as ‘old’. Think of it as ‘experienced’.” Another smile from the alcohol-fuelled sex pest.

  Jordy laughed, “Here’s me thinking I couldn’t handle my drink very well!”

  “So come on,” he continued, “what will it take for a bit of fucky-fuck?”

  “Money,” Jordy laughed. “A lot of money. Possibly more than you’d be able to afford!”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Morgan leaned down to the ground and picked up one of the wine glasses previously left there by another of the housemates before they retired indoors. “We’ll continue this conversation after I’ve won the money!” He downed his drink.

  “I can hardly wait.”

  The french doors opened and the rest of the housemates spilled into the garden. The music - in the house - had stopped now and they’d decided to continue their party in the fresh air.

  “What’s going on out here then? You two look cozy,” Paul shouted out as he stepped onto the perfectly cut grass.

  “We’re talking sex,” Morgan slurred.

  “Always a good conversation to be had,” Stuart laughed.

  Jack sat next to Jordy.

  “So what about the sex then?” Stuart asked, keen to join in with a bit of filth.

  “It will cost me money but…She hasn’t said no.”

  “Well - that’s good…Isn’t it?” Stuart looked to Chris with an eyebrow raised. Chris shrugged.

  Jordy leaned over to Jack and whispered, “You wouldn’t have to pay. You could have it for free.” She laughed as Jack blushed.

  N O W

  D A Y E I G H T

  The green light had illuminated the bedroom door over an hour ago. Most of the housemates had spilled into the main section of the house - each finding their own space. Jordy was standing in the kitchen looking at the bowls stacked on the side - ready to be used for breakfast.

  Jack walked up to her, “You okay?”

  “I was horrible to him,” she said.

  “Morgan?”

  She nodded. Jack didn’t say anything to her. There was nothing he could say. None of them had been particularly nice to Morgan when he had been alive. Most were irritated by him and had hoped he was the one who was leaving in the first elimination. Jordy nodded towards the cereal, “You think that’s even safe to eat?”

  Again, Jack didn’t say anything. Jordy looked at him and wondered what he was thinking about. From the moment he’d walked into her life (the house) he seemed to be more of a ‘thinker’ than a ‘sayer’ - not that she thought there was anything wrong with that.

  Paul stepped over from the dining area, up into the kitchen. He waited for Jack to turn around and face him before he spoke. “Well - are we going upstairs then?” he asked. “No sense putting it off.” He was - of course - referring to the necessary conversation with The Controller; the voice behind the people running the show.

  “We should wait for the others,” Jack said.

  “There’s no need,” said Paul, “you and I can do it. I think it’s safe to say - after last night - that we aren’t exactly in bed together figuratively speaking. Unless, after a good night’s sleep, you can see where I am coming from now?”

  “A good night’s sleep? I don’t think anyone had a good night’s sleep. Let’s just get this over and done with, yeah?” Jack started towards the stairs which lead the way to The Control Room.

  Paul followed, with Jordy - who’d decided to tag along. By the time they caught up with Jack - the red illumination around The Control Room door had turned to the welcoming green light, signalling the door was ready for them to venture through. Jack went through first and the door slammed shut behind the last one through. The green light switched to red.

  In the Control Room, Jack was standing next to the chair. Paul and Jordy a few feet behind him as though uncomfortable to take a seat without Jack taking one first.

  “Please unlock the doors,” Jack blurted out - still standing. “We wish to leave.”

  “Hello, Jack.” The voice of The Controller boomed through the room; a strict voice of authority - not that Jack cared. Currently, all he wanted to do was get out of the house once and for all.

  He repeated himself, “Please unlock the doors. We wish to leave.”

  “Who wishes to leave?”

  “What do you mean who wishes to go? Everyone does. We don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing but we don’t want to be a part of it.”

  “Jack, when you came into the house you knew that only one person could leave with the one hundred thousand pound prize.”

  “What? We don’t want the prize money. We just want to go home.”

  The Controller didn’t answer and the room filled with an awkward silence.

  “Hello? Anyone?” Jack pushed them.

  “Was there anything else we can help with?” the voice boomed.

  Jack looked back to Paul, “This is a joke, right?” Paul shrugged. “Just unlock the doors - we wish to leave,” Jack continued.

  “Jack, during the audition process, housemates were told they would have a number of tough decisions to make during their stay in the house if they were to leave with one hundred thousand pounds.”

  “We don’t want the fucking money. How hard is that to understand? We just want to go back to our lives. We want out of the show.”

  “Morgan and Philip were two such decisions.”

  “What? How was that a decision? It’s not as though anyone really had a choice!”

  “Everyone always has a choice,” The Controller’s voice echoed through the room.

  Jack turned to Paul, “Are you hearing this?”

  He nodded but still had nothing to say.

  “Housemates were also informed how they’d leave the show and that was via elimination.”

  “And by elimination you meant d
eath…” Jack raised his voice.

  “All housemates must be eliminated in order for one to leave the show.”

  “We’re not just going to kill each other because you demand it,” Jack continued, “you’re out of your fucking minds…” the words came from his mouth despite the truth of the matter being; two housemates had already been murdered by people living in the house with him. A third housemate, Richard, being the only one who’d died at the direct hands of The Controller.

  “To not partake in the tasks and missions set forth by The Controller would be deemed a serious breach of the rules and - as such - will be met with serious consequences.”

  It was now Jack realised why Richard had been killed before he even got into the house; it was a performance by the production team to show all housemates that they could take a life without losing any sleep. It was a sign that the people living in the house were nothing to the production team but little monkeys ready to dance for them at their beck and call. The small Control Room was filled with an uncomfortable silence again.

  “Was there anything else The Controller can help you with?” the voice boomed.

  Jack pushed past Paul and Jordy and reached for the door. He pulled on it but it didn’t budge. The red light around the frame saying why.

  “Open the fucking door!” Jack shouted. Both Paul and Jordy stepped to the side, to give Jack more room. There was a lengthy delay, as Jack continued to pull on the door, before the red light flicked to green and the door unlocked. Jack stormed from the room. A second, maybe two, later and Paul and Jordy followed.

  “What did they say?” Chris called up to them.

  The rest of the housemates, Chris included, were standing at the foot of the stairs with hopeful looks for freedom on their faces. They didn’t need to ask though - they could tell, immediately, from Jack’s glum expression that the news wasn’t what they had hoped.

  Chris asked again, “What did they say?”