Trust No One: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

Even with his arm extended as far as it would stretch and lying on the floor, the end of the wire was just out of the reach of his foot. Realising that he wasn’t going to reach it, Noah sat back up, tried to figure out another plan.

It had been several minutes since Alice had knocked Olivia out cold and he had watched in frustration and despair as she had dragged her limp body back down the stairs. Apart from his initial yelling, the cottage was ominously quiet.

He suspected Alice was waiting for Olivia to wake up, understood that there was no satisfaction for her in burning the cottage down while her victim was unconscious. Once that happened it would be game over.

The one positive that he did have was the dropped torch on the floor that at least gave him a little light to work with.

He needed to get the wire – it was his only hope – and to get it he needed to find something that would reach. There was nothing close to him in the room that he could use. The piece of wood that Olivia had hit Alice with was in the doorway, again out of his reach.

He looked down at what he was wearing, debating whether he could use his boot laces or belt. Deciding the belt had most chance of success, he unhooked it from his jeans. He still couldn’t get close enough using his free hand, so would have to use his foot.

Making a lasso with the belt, he used his boot lace to secure the end then stretched back out on the floor, lifting his leg and trying to hook the belt loop over the wire.

It was long enough, but it was exasperatingly difficult to catch hold of the wire.

From downstairs came music. He recognised the song, It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas; knew this wasn’t a good sign. Olivia must be awake.

He tried again with the lasso, catching the wire once and managing to yank it a couple of inches before losing it.

This just wasn’t going to work.

He yanked on the cuff, swearing in frustration. Made another attempt.

This time the wire caught. He yanked the belt to him, grabbing the end of the wire and bending the end, so he could pick the lock.

An agonising scream from below told him he needed to hurry.

Malcolm Grimes entered the cottage just in time to see his sister using the knife.

Although he hadn’t seen Olivia Blake in years, he recognised her, knew she was the girl who was tied to the cross, her arms stretched wide apart and held by cuffs, her feet bound together by rope. She was crying out in pain and writhing against her bonds as she desperately tried to escape the knife, her jumper ripped open and blood seeping from where Alice was carving into her stomach. All around them, candles and lanterns cast a spooky glow, while music played on a portable record player.

He recognised the track, realised it was Margaret’s favourite Christmas song.

‘Alice?’

His sister stopped her knife work, her shoulders tensing. ‘Malcolm?’

She spoke his name as if she didn’t believe it was really him, but then she turned, saw it was, and her face crumpled. Dropping the knife, she rushed towards him. ‘Malcolm, I didn’t know you were here.’

And then she was in his arms and his beautiful, damaged sister was sobbing like a baby.

‘What are you doing here, Alice?’ He glanced over her shoulder to where Olivia was watching him warily, unsure if he was friend or foe.

Alice eased away from him, her eyes shining bright. ‘This is for Margaret. I am doing this for her. I know how she died, Malcolm. The sinners are being punished.’

‘This is Olivia, though. She was Margaret’s friend.’

Alice shook her head. ‘No, you’re wrong. Kelly told me. Olivia was part of it. She was the one who lured Margaret here. She is the one who is responsible for her dying.’

‘Is that so?’ Malcolm looked at Olivia again.

Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. ‘It’s not true. I cared about your sister. Please.’

‘Liar!’ Alice broke free of Malcolm’s arms, stormed back over to Olivia, who tried to flinch away, pointing her finger at her. ‘You did this. It’s all your fault. And now you have to pay.’

Glancing wildly around, Alice reached for one of the canisters of petrol lined up just inside the door.

‘Alice, what are you doing?’

‘What I came here to do. I’m going to burn the cottage down. I told you. This is for Margaret.’

‘Is this what Margaret would have wanted?’

Alice nodded. ‘Of course it is. She knows this is all for her. I talk to her all the time, you know.’

Malcolm watched her pouring petrol around the edge of the room, his mind going back to that day he had caught her with the matches in their family home. He had taken the fall for her that day, remembering what Gerald and Marie Grimes had done to her and knowing how broken she was.

She was his sister. His responsibility. It was his job to help her, to fix her.

They only had each other.

‘Alice?’

‘Yes, Malcolm?’

‘It’s okay. I’m here now. I will help you finish this.’

For a brief moment Olivia had thought Malcolm Grimes was going to help her, that he understood his sister was completely deranged. He had appeared in the doorway, seemed truly shocked by what was happening. At first, he had seemed to rationalise with Alice, but now Olivia understood that he was here to help his sister kill her and panic took over.

Escape had seemed so close. She had found Noah, put up a good fight against Alice, but then the evil bitch had knocked her out cold. When she awoke with a banging headache and found herself tied to the cross, she understood it was too late.

There had been no more noise from upstairs and Olivia didn’t dare call out to Noah or ask Alice about him, fearing he could already be dead.

Malcolm had been the cavalry. He was the last possible chance Olivia had of escaping, but Alice was his blood, and it was apparent he was now taking her side. Fighting against two of them, she had no chance of getting away.

Instead she pulled uselessly on the cuffs that held her wrists to each side of the cross, watching as Alice doused the room with petrol, and trying not to remember the agonising deaths that Gary, Howard, Janice and Fern had suffered.

After telling Alice he would help her, Malcolm had disappeared back outside, leaving Olivia alone again with his psycho sister. She wondered where he had gone, her terror building by the second. Knowing they now had her completely trapped, she just wanted the nightmare to be over with.

The last canister empty, Alice halted in front of her. She held one of the candles and Olivia tried not to react, not wanting to let the crazy woman feed on her fear.

‘Any last words, Livvy?’

Protesting her innocence, telling Alice that her friendship with Margaret had been real was just going to fall on deaf ears. Olivia had already tried to reason with her and nothing would change Alice’s stance. She was crazy, plain and simple, and anger was the only defence left. ‘Fuck you!’ she spat, knowing that the words would rile Alice.

She was right, could tell from the sneer on Alice’s face that the woman hadn’t been expecting that and it hadn’t been the reaction she had hoped for.

Malcolm picked that moment to walk back into the room and to Olivia’s horror she realised he was holding an axe. She struggled frantically against her bindings as he strode towards her and Alice, fresh fear taking over.

‘What are you doing with that candle?’ he demanded. ‘I told you I would help you finish this.’

‘I’m sorry, Malcolm.’

Olivia’s eyes widened as he disappeared behind the cross, her heart thumping in her chest. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

‘Please don’t,’ she begged.

As the axe rose, Alice looked on in horror. ‘No!’

Noah reached the bottom of the stairs just as Alice dropped the candle, the trail of petrol instantly igniting. His eyes went to where Olivia was bound to the cross and the man who was swinging the axe down behind her.

‘Stop!’

Olivia was screaming, Alice was hysterical, dropping to her knees as she howled in anguish, and the flames were rising higher. The blade of the axe sliced into the wooden cross, tearing it apart and freeing the piece of wood that held Olivia’s left arm.

Before any of them could react, a second swing freed her right arm, then Malcolm had dropped the axe, had fallen to the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his sobbing sister.

‘She was supposed to die, Malcolm. She has to die.’

The room was fully ablaze now and Noah rushed across to where Olivia was desperately trying to free her cuffs from the mangled wood. Her feet were still bound he realised and he dropped to his knees, working to untie the knots, before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the window at the back of the cottage.

‘Come on, we need to get out of here.’

They soon discovered that escape was going to be impossible. The flames were already too high, thick smoke rising. Olivia was glancing frantically around her, the panic clear on her face, as she realised they were trapped.

Noah turned back, spotted the axe Malcolm had used to break up the cross. Quickly, he grabbed it. ‘Come on!’

He dragged Olivia up the stairs, the only route left, and went back into the room he had become far too familiar with over the last twenty-four hours, kicking the door closed behind them. ‘Stand back.’

Using the axe, he sliced it into the wooden board that was blocking the window.

‘Hurry!’ Olivia’s tone was urgent and when he glanced back, he could see smoke seeping up through the floorboards.

Another swing of the axe splintered the wood, a third broke it open. Handing the tool to Olivia, he kicked at the remainder of the board, clearing a big enough gap to climb through. He peered out of the window. There was nothing to break their fall under the drop.

He caught hold of both her hands, cuffs still dangling from her wrists, and pulled her to the window.

‘We need to jump. It’s not too high.’

She nodded, glanced out of the window, and while he knew she didn’t like the idea, she understood it was better than the alternative.

He caught the dangling cuffs, pressed them into her palms. ‘Hold on to these, okay, so you don’t bash yourself in the face with them. And keep your legs together,’ he instructed. ‘You want to try to land on the balls of your feet, then when you hit the ground, roll to the side.’

He helped her out of the window and lowered her as far as he could. ‘Ready?’

When she nodded, he let go, held his breath, waited until he saw she had landed safely before climbing through himself.

Behind him he could hear the flames fiercely pounding against the door and knew he only had seconds.

Lowering himself down from the ledge, he jumped.

Olivia had landed with a thump and her body cried out in pain, but she knew it was from the bruises and injuries she had already sustained over the course of the night. Nothing had been broken. She rolled on to her knees, brushing herself down, and watched fearfully as Noah prepared to drop, terrified the building might suddenly collapse.

But then he was on the ground beside her and they were both safe. At least from the fire.

‘You okay?’

She nodded, glancing fearfully around. She had been so preoccupied with escaping the flames, she had briefly forgotten about Alice. ‘Where are they?’

Noah was silent for a moment. ‘They were still inside. The fire’s too fierce. There’s nothing we can do for them.’

Olivia stared at the cottage, the enormity of everything that had happened all catching up at once. She didn’t care about Alice. Yes, the woman had issues, was mentally unstable, but she had still been clear-minded enough to cruelly murder six people in cold blood. Malcolm was different though. While Olivia had initially thought he was going to hurt her, that hadn’t been his intention.

‘He saved me.’ Her voice trembled when she spoke and was a no more than a whisper. ‘I thought he was going to kill me, but he didn’t. He saved my life. I would be in there right now if he hadn’t cut me free.’

Noah crawled over to where she sat. ‘I’m sorry, he’s gone, Liv. They both are. There’s nothing you can do. But you’re here. You’re safe, and you’re going to be okay.’

She didn’t protest when he folded his arms around her, held him right back, and together they sat and watched as the cottage burned.