"Only One Winner" by Andrew Nicolle

Only One Winner

by Andrew Nicolle

The contestants gathered in the living room of Barrel House, the home of notorious serial killer, Robert Toomey. They had been invited by popular video game streamer, Jimmy Ghoul, for a contest in which he had challenged viewers to face their fears. This group he had judged the most fearless and most likely able to survive the horrors of this final challenge. The entire event was being livestreamed to an audience of horror fans numbering in the millions.

Jimmy thrust his hands toward the ceiling. “And now the attic. This is where the killer stuffed the remains of his many victims into wine barrels.”

The contestants glanced around nervously as Jimmy rattled off the gory details of the killer’s crimes in nauseating detail. His spiel completed, he turned to the face the camera.

“Four contestants, seven days, and a very haunted house. Up for grabs: one million dollars. Who do you think has the guts to survive this challenge? Sound off in the comments!”

He gestured toward the open attic door, grinning widely. “Godspeed, ladies and gentlemen. Your grim fate awaits!”

The contestants ascended the narrow staircase to the attic, as a solemn Jimmy Ghoul raised his hand to his forehead in salute. Once they reached the top he slammed the door behind them.

Jimmy waved to Sam to cut the feed, and headed for the makeshift control room they’d established on the dining room table. Two computer monitors on the table showed the view from the attic, with feeds from video cameras suspended in the ceiling in each of the four corners of the room. The attic was sparsely furnished, with beds and privacy curtains along one side and a small kitchen, dining table, couch, and chairs on the other. A small bathroom occupied the corner nearest the entrance.

Sam munched on a ham sandwich as they watched the contestants get acclimated to their surroundings and settled in for the evening. “If you were a betting man, who do you think will last the longest?”

“Hard to say,” Jimmy said. “They’re a tough crew, and money is one helluva motivator. We’ve got a degenerate gambler, a graduate student up to her eyeballs in debt, a mother with a sick kid, and an ex-con, recently out of the clink for grand larceny. None of them are murderers as far as we know, but I bet they’d all kill for that cool million.” 

“You think it’ll come to that?”

Jimmy shrugged. “All I know is I had a hell of a time keeping the contractors motivated when we renovated this place. They reported shadow people and weird sounds coming from the attic, and tools kept going missing, only to later reappear in the attic. Cool, huh?”

Sam pointed to the stream view stats displayed on the monitor. “Half a million horror fiends still think so!”

“Awesome! Anyhow, I gotta fly. I’m gonna do some streaming tonight, and I’ll be back in the morning. Let me know if anything comes up.”

The first night passed without incident, as did the second. Jimmy dropped by the house in the morning of the third day. Sam sat in the dining room with his head buried in his hands.

“Dude, what’s wrong?”

“Viewers are turning off in their droves. They think this whole haunted house thing is bullshit. There hasn’t been a single scare. The gang upstairs are laughing it up, saying you’re gonna be on the hook for four million if they all make it through to the weekend. I hope you’ve got something to spice things up?”

Jimmy clapped him on the back. “Have some faith, my man. Something’s bound to happen.”

By day six, Jimmy was on the phone to his accountant to deliver the bad news. After he’d hung up, he turned to Sam. “Sorry to say, but you were right. This whole thing was a bad idea.”

“Hold up, there was something weird last night. During a game of truth or dare, our mother with a sick kid confessed that she does not in fact have a child, and the only reason she’s here is to try to lure the entity she claims had latched onto her during a seance.”

“Lemme guess. The entity is spirit of our serial killer, Robert Toomey?” 

“Bingo.”

Jimmy raised his hands toward the ceiling. “Robert, if you’re listening. You’ve got twenty-four hours.”

Later that night as Jimmy lie wide-awake in bed praying for a miracle, his phone rang. He picked up on the first ring. It was Sam. “Get your ass in here pronto, boss. They’ve all disappeared.”

Jimmy swept into the Barrel House like a tornado, as Sam queued up the footage.

“It happened at 2am. Here, see they’re all in bed, sleeping soundly. The power went out for 5 minutes, so we’ve got nothing for that time. Cameras come back online, and all the beds are empty. What’s going on, Jimmy?”

Jimmy and Sam snatched up flashlights, and they headed for the attic door. He flung it open, and they ascended cautiously, until reaching the top. Jimmy flicked the light switch.

“Goddamn,” Jimmy said. He rushed into the room and they checked the bathroom and each of the beds, but all were empty. It was then that they heard wet slurping sounds coming from behind the couch.

Jimmy peered around the edge of the couch and didn’t know whether to be terrified or thrilled by what he saw.

The final contestant sat on the floor against the wall, her face and clothing completely covered in blood. Beside her lay a carving knife and the eviscerated remains of the other contestants. Jimmy covered his mouth in shock.

She looked up at him with blood-stained teeth and smiled. “Only one winner, right?”