Find Love or Die Trying
Are you looking for the one? Would you risk it all for love? CONTESTANTS WANTED
She was looking for a man to make her feel valuable in a society that made her feel worthless, and if she happened to make a bit of money, perhaps a little fame along the way then that was okay by her. She’d played the game so far, bought every product going, enhanced herself, pandered to society’s ideals. All she wanted in return was for someone to treat her like they cared about her. Not another hedonist trying to work his way through sex jokes he’d seen on Urban Dictionary. If anyone ever tried to ‘donkey punch’ her again, they would not live to boast about it.
I was lonely. I was really lonely. And it manifested into everything I did, everywhere I looked. The family Daysaver ticket on the bus seemed like an unachievable goal. The two-person canoe on sale in the centre aisle of Aldi hurt my feelings. I even started to wear odd socks as I believed less and less in the existence of a "perfect match". At least that’s what I told myself. Married friends would insist “there’s someone for everybody”, but the dating apps seemed to disagree, which is why I applied for the show.
CONTESTANTS WANTED
Are you looking for the one? Would you risk it all for love?
We’re looking for contestants between 25 - 35 for our new REALITY DATING SHOW!
Contestants must be physically fit, outgoing, and NOT camera shy, as you’ll be getting to know each other inside and out in our new jshow:
FIND LOVE OR DIE TRYING!
The advert had been sitting in her SPAM folder for a week before she saw it, sandwiched between Tinder notifications from various men smoldering at the camera with their tops off, their tattoo sleeves almost identical. The thought of having a date with another meathead LadBIBLE enthusiast made her jealous of the lady with 12 cats that her mother referred to as “Mrs. Haversham”. Filling out the application wouldn’t hurt, she’d applied to be an extra on Channel 4 before. The ten unusual questions were completed in a flash and then it was straight onto the website for plan B: the cat’s home.
I found the application form very strange. If I were in any other mood I’d have closed the window as soon as my blood type came into question. This, however, was an evening my browser history was not proud of; porn site after porn site with a brief break to read How to find a wife in 14 steps on WikiHow. Only an evening of feeling this low could have me responding to an advert in a pop-up window.
…
As she entered the large grey industrial unit in the twilight that evening, she felt uncomfortably overdressed. She was here for a date and thus had opted for her strappy open-toed black heels and a mid-length, long-sleeved black dress. It was tight in the areas she was proud to be curvy and loose in the areas she wasn’t. Once inside, the five or six stagehands moved around her dressed all in black with black baseball caps. They were like shadows occupying the gloomy warehouse space. Nobody acknowledged her. Nobody apart from me.
I had followed the printed-out signs taped to the warehouse walls that read “Contestants this way” with a large arrow pointing left. They lead me into a small, temporary office space with two chairs inside and a note taped to a bottle of Merlot next to two glasses on a desk. The label was printed the same as the wall signs and simply said “Drink Me!”. I waited nervously, flicking through my Instagram feed at happy couples announcing engagements until the door crept open and she appeared in front of me, intimidatingly beautiful. My greeting was a barely audible gasp after her cheery “Hello!”. She told me her first name was “Jodi”. I don’t remember her last. We opened the Merlot and she started chatting about what had driven her to apply for the show. The further we got through the bottle, the easier the conversation became. She was so beautiful and full of life that I’d have run away with her then and there if I’d had the slightest inkling she felt the same way.
…
I woke up shackled to an office chair, looking through a perspex window into a large warehouse space. The room I was in was elevated atop a mezzanine floor, giving me a birds-eye view of the space. The shock of being restrained caused me to scream, which echoed down into the warehouse over a tannoy system, stirring something in the far corner. After a moment of wriggling, there was another scream. Crawling out of the dark, dingey corner came a woman with her hands tied together at the wrists, her legs tied together at the ankles, and a black sack over her head.
A feminine, robotic voice came over the tannoy system, the type you’d hear on an answering machine.
“Wakey wakey, contestants. Your date will be split into two halves. The first half will be a blind date. Communicate with each other to complete the assault course and progress to the next half. But beware, you are not the only people taking this challenge. The two couples with the slowest times will be… ELIMINATED.” The word eliminated was said in a low pitched, theatrical voice, which proceeded to repeat the title of the show “Find love… or die trying,”
The lady I looked down on was trembling.
“Is this for real?!” I heard her exclaim, barely audible from behind the perspex window.
“Hi” My voice bellowed over the tannoy, making her jump. “I don’t know what this is but I’m pretty sure they drugged us. What’s your name?”
“Cindy”
“Hi Cindy, how long have you been here?”
“Days! I want to go home! LET ME GO, YOU BASTARDS!”
I couldn’t move. The chair I was shackled to must have been bolted to the floor. There was no choice but to play along. It took a little while for Cindy to comply.
On the floor before her were three sets of obstacles with a narrow, windy clear path to navigate through. I was careful not to worry her about the dangers that lay ahead. To gain her trust I asked her about herself and her family as she crawled through the mouse traps. The conversation seemed to calm her, create a safe distraction from the horror of the situation. She was from Manchester, had one brother, and had been planning to use this TV show to come out as gay. Awkward as it was through the perspex window, she needed this distraction more and more as she progressed around the maze. We’d navigated the mousetraps without a single one going off, but next up was barbed wire, followed by broken glass. The pathway of safety narrowed as the maze progressed. Steadily, I directed Cindy, explaining how I’d attempted to come out on April 1st of all days, which lead to me having to come out several times to my family. I was used to this anecdote amusing people but just as I’d finished telling it, Cindy cried out. She'd caught her leg on one of the barbed wire spurs. A thin line of blood emerged from the rip in her white jeans and she let out a cry.
The feminine robotic voice made another announcement. “Jodi and Alex are through to the next round. One space remaining.”
For the rest of the task I was as heartless as my parents were on April 1st that year, and I only shouted half as much. Scared as to what might happen if we never completed the maze, I screamed at Cindy to crawl faster, directing her as the crow flies to the small chequered flag painted on the floor at the end of the maze. She was cut to ribbons by the time she got there. Her white jeans were dark red. She was whimpering and sore.
A door opened behind me and before I knew it a rag was held over my mouth. The room faded in and out of focus until it was gone.
…
Jodi woke up facing me in an upside-down room, she thought. I could see the cogs whirring as she attempted to understand our predicament. First, she tugged at her arm restraints, then she turned her screams into muffled nonsense with her gag as she acknowledged me, hanging by the ankles from the ceiling. The ankle and wrist restraints trapped us like huge flies caught in a spider’s web. She'd accept a million donkey punches over this.
Behind Jodi was a pale man, nursing a very deep wound on his left knee. His hair was matted with blood and there wasn’t an inch of exposed skin that wasn’t scratched. He was staring at the floor in front of him where something shimmered in the dull light of the room. I could hear my date whimpering behind me.
The familiar feminine robotic voice came from nowhere: “How’re we doing folks? Enjoying your date so far? We hope you’ve fallen head over heels for each other. The first couple to release their captive other half and ELIMINATE THE OPPOSITION, wins.” The deep, theatrical voice took over to finish the sentence.
The man behind Jodi picked up the object shimmering in front of him and limped slowly towards her. He tried to ease her nerves as he approached. “I’m coming to cut you down, Jodi. It’s just me, don’t panic.
“Alex… Alex don’t! Hold on! She’s got a…”
I could see the man’s shoulder and head appear in the gap between her legs, which perfectly framed a bread knife catching the light before catching his jugular, spraying blood everywhere. Cindy screamed a deep, throaty roar as she finished the job off, stabbing him multiple times as he fell to the floor clutching his neck. She refused to die a closeted woman.
Jodi was screaming uncontrollably as Cindy walked slowly over to me and cut me down. As I fell onto my head, Cindy fell to her knees, dropping the knife to the floor and breaking down crying.
Fear and adrenaline took over me. I picked up the knife and edged in front of Jodi. She was so beautiful in her black dress, maintaining her elegance even as she hung upside down. I knew what I had to do, but it was so hard with her screaming and pleading, looking so distressed. She deserved an apology for my intentions. As usual I couldn't find the words.
"I wish you were my date" I rasped.
Then, positioned where I couldn’t see her face I forced the knife messily to the left of her spine. It ricocheted off something hard underneath her skin preventing me from plunging the full length of the blade in. She screamed for help as I repeated the action. I didn’t stop until she did, releasing her from the dating scene for good.
The voice came once again. “We have our winners. Join us next time for FIND LOVE… OR DIE TRYING.”
Long after the crying had stopped, I lay near, but separate to Cindy. A door opened at the side of the room and a hand placed something inside before retreating. It was a bottle of Merlot on a tray with the word “Congratulations” taped to it. Next to it were two wine glasses. Silently, we drank from the bottle, passing it between us. We sat slouched on the floor, battling only our consciences, and prayed for it to be over.
...
When I awoke I was alone in the car park of this police station, Officer. I would like to confess to the murder of a woman, whom I’m not sure you're aware is missing yet.
About the Creator
Liam Kerry
"In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move." - Douglas Adams
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