Killing Room: A Thriller and Suspense Novel (Ungoverned Book 3)

by Shawn Raiford

  "Please, Edward just let me go, and you go in there and kill those fucking cops. They’re only here to help a friend of theirs. A woman."

  "Who?"

  “I heard them say ‘Rose’. She called them and told them that she was here.”

  Damn, she told him the truth about being a cop; the suits were here to help her. No telling how many cops knew about him and his warehouse now. Barry claimed to have enough money to run and keep under the radar of law enforcement for a long while. A much harder task for Edward, due to his size—he stood out anywhere he went. However, if the cops were on to him, he would have to entertain the idea of leaving town. Not yet though. Before making them scream, the suits would tell him what evidence they had on him.

  Scratches covered Janice’s face and arms from the window glass. He turned her around so she was facing away from him. Her chin felt small in his right hand. His other hand held the back of her head. With great force, he twisted. Vibrations were felt in her skull as her neck broke. Easy enough for him, he had only done it twice before and hated it. Quickness, in the act of killing someone, was not desired. Since he did not have the time to listen to her screams, and could not leave her alive, breaking her neck was the best option. Time wasted could mean the loss of his freedom; the suits had to be dealt with as soon as possible.

  Releasing it, the dead body landed on the ground with a thud. Stepping over the carcass, he hurried across the street to the door on the side of the warehouse. Upon entering he caught a glimpse of long lines of light dancing in the darkness of the warehouse.

  Placing the goggles over his eyes, Edward quickly moved. He walked along the wall towards them. Familiar with every square inch of the warehouse, he was not concerned with bumping into anything. Edward reached the back wall without incident.

  Even with flashlights, one of the suits bumped into something. Sounded like an old pipe. Finally, they made it to the stairs. One of them picked something up, but he couldn’t make it out. After the suit dropped it, Edward stepped in a little closer, noticing that it was one of Rose’s boots.

  Their flashlights were turned off. As they ascended the stairs, excitement ballooned inside him. Christmas has come early this year, he thought. So many screamers at once.

  They reached the top of the stairs when he arrived at the bottom. Impatient, he made a mistake by stepping onto the first step, making a little noise. One of them turned on a flashlight. Edward backed off—out of sight as a beam of light illuminated the spot he had just stepped. A few seconds later the light beam disappeared, and Edward poked his head out again. When the door opened, a sliver of light appeared and Edward had to close his eyes. Too much light for the goggles. He took them off and watched the suits enter his killing room.

  After the door closed, Edward placed the goggles back over his eyes. The usual green tint hovered over his vision. About to have even more fun; he rushed up the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Fish in a barrel

  SOMETHING SOUNDED MUFFLED, IN the background.

  What? I didn't understand.

  "Ooeee," I heard. What the hell is that?

  I felt my body moving. "Chloe!"

  Then I opened my eyes; Henry's face hovered above me. I wanted to scream out, but I kept cool. "Hi, Henry!" I was awake now; Edward and the memory of what he did had rushed to the forefront of my mind.

  “Oh thank, God!” Henry said, smiling.

  I sat up, hugging him, almost strangling him. "I must've passed out."

  Mitch knelt down and put a hand on my shoulder. Upon gazing at him, his grin was the first thing I noticed; it got me every time. He needed some sleep and a shave—he was so handsome. He said, "You been waiting long, darling?"

  ‘Glad’ didn’t even begin to describe how I felt to see them.

  Mitch holstered his weapons and helped me to stand, hugging me too. God, his body felt good against mine.

  "So, what happened here?" Both Henry and Mitch winced as they saw the mess that used to be Kathleen on the table.

  I pointed to the door. “Be on the lookout for a really big guy! He's batshit crazy!"

  Staring at the mess on the table, Henry asked, "Yeah, Edward Rawlings, right?"

  "Yes! Edward tortured then killed her.“ I turned and pointed at the other skulls on the shelves. "Them too.”

  Henry walked over to me and held a hand out, and Mitch moved over to table—inspected the mess. "What did he do? Peel her skin?"

  I pointed at the camera behind them. "Yes, and he filmed it. Welcome to his recording studio.”

  Mitch walked over to the wall checking out the electronics. "This is nice equipment."

  Next, the door opened several inches; an arm creepily reached in, flicking off the light switch. We were caught with our dicks out.

  I heard a distinct, “UG!”

  Based off the distance, I figured that was Mitch. Edward hit him. Fish in a fucking barrel. I hated to give this animal any credit, but it was smart to have those damn night-vision goggles. I hoped he didn't hurt Mitch and Henry too bad or me, before we stopped him.

  Just before I shouted out to Henry to be careful, I heard a 'SMACK' ricocheted off the wall. Had to be Edward smacking Henry. He subdued the men: the immediate threats. Smart.

  With those night-vision goggles, Edward had the upper hand in the dark. Hell, he had the only hand. Someone, I suspected it was Henry, crashed into me, his elbow jabbed my ribs, causing both of us to fall to the ground.

  He shouted, “Shit!”

  Then I heard various grunts.

  "Get off me!" Henry demanded.

  Hoping he wasn't strangling my brother, I swung a couple times, hitting nothing but air. If I found Edward, I’d bite down as hard as I could until I had a mouthful of psychopath. Teeth beat muscles every time.

  After a few seconds, Henry said, "He's got my sidearm, and he tied my wrist together."

  Mitch attempted to say something, but slurred his words. At least he was still alive. Perhaps Edward wanted to torture them too?

  The light came back on, and I blinked in the room. Edward appeared like a ghoulish magician before an audience. I half expected him to take a bow.

  After removing his goggles, he flicked them to the side. With wide eyes, he let a mile-wide smile spread across his face. "I'm so glad everybody made it to the party!" he said. Ugly, stained teeth were visible. He held two flashlights in one had—maybe my brother's and Mitch's. Then he walked over to the door. From his waistband, he pulled Henry's and Mitch's pistols and tossed them out the door. The weapons clanked down the stairs to the warehouse floor. Before closing the door, he tossed the flashlights out too.

  If I had Edward's size I wouldn’t worry too much about using guns or other kinds of weapons either. Moreover, killing us with a gun was too quick and easy—not what his customers wanted. Besides, his trigger finger probably didn't fit inside the trigger guard.

  He turned back to the room, grinning, happy that he subdued two cops. I assumed he now believed my story about letting my cop buddies know I was coming here. But that did not matter much at the moment.

  He pulled a bandana from his back pocket and bent over to bind Mitch's wrist. Offering no resistance, Mitch appeared to be unconscious.

  With half-opened eyes, Henry gazed off into space; Edward didn’t do any permanent damage—I hoped. Prepared to fight, I stood. Kathleen's head laid on its side now, revealing something beautiful: the knife. Edward must have placed it down after it served its purpose, subsequently covering the knife up when he placed the severed head down on the table. Most likely the head was knocked over when Henry hit the table.

  I grabbed the it.

  When he realized what I did, Edward crossed the room in two giant steps and grabbed me by my hair and pulled upward. “Give that back to me!”

  Holding the knife in my right hand, I reached up with my left hand and clamped onto his forearm for stability. Just as my feet came off the floor, I sliced his forearm.

 
"Ouch! You bitch!" he said, releasing my hair.

  I dropped; Edward’s hand recoiled. Not wasting time, I cut the bandana from Henry's wrists while big boy looked at the damage I did to his arm.

  Henry looked at me and said, ”Tha…”

  That's when I noticed his eyes jostled from side to side. Definitely, his bell had been rung. I would have to do this by myself. Which was all right, I was used to killing monsters by myself.

  "You're going to pay for that one, Rose!" Edward said.

  "He knows your name?" Mitch asked.

  I didn’t realize he was awake. He did not look good.

  ”Are y'all dating?” Mitch asked, grinning. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  A joke?

  Edward charged me, and I held up the knife, feigning a knife attack. But it did not stop him, he swung at me and hit my knife hand. Then he jabbed at me, and hit me. I fell, and the knife skidded away. “Damn it!” He didn’t hit me hard; I stood—ready to fight.

  “Give up, Rose. You and your friends are going on my table,” Edward said. “You will all scream for me, like Kathleen!”

  Without thinking how losing the knife hurt my ability to defeat this man, I kicked him with my booted foot, aiming for his balls. At the last possible moment he turned, twisting his hips. His knee caught the brunt of my boot, saving his gonads.

  "Shit!" he howled, grabbing his knee, hopping in place.

  I turned to check on Henry. On all fours, he stared at the floor as if looking for a lost contact lens. He needs medical attention. Soon.

  Almost shitting myself when I heard a crash. Edward had driven Mitch into the wall near the office entrance. Mitch yelled out, grabbing his side. A broken rib maybe.

  Henry stood up. "Hey asshole, we’re cops, and you are under arrest!"

  "I'm going to hurt you, cop!" Edward took a step slightly limping; his knee was better, he could stand on it.

  He swung at my brother, but he ducked. Henry pushed him, spinning him around. Then he jumped onto the big man’s back and put Edward in a headlock; my brother knew how to fight.

  “Yes!” I shouted, proud of him. But it didn't last long; Edward flicked him off. Henry landed hard on his side.

  "Creed you okay?" asked Mitch, who sat on the floor with a bloody face. "I'm about to get up and kick that fucker's ass!"

  "You cops will scream for me!" Edward yelled.

  Before he sledgehammered Mitch to death with his fists, I charged him from behind. My right foot found purchase on his ass; I lifted my entire body. Once high enough, my left leg swung around and rested on his shoulder, next to his left ear. Swiftly, I brought up my right leg, and it settled on the other side of his head, covering up the other ear. Directly out in front of his face my ankles hooked; I squeezed his head hard. My legs were strong; I could easily squat three-hundred pounds; his head was stuck in a vise.

  Edward spun around in a complete three-sixty, trying to shake me off. I went all Muhammed Ali on the back of his head. Landing ten hard punches in three-seconds. Before he threw me off, I leaned back, unlatching my ankles, scissor kicking myself down to the floor, behind him.

  Mitch said, "Damn Eddie, that had to hurt!"

  That comment made Edward laugh. "I've never killed cops before." He paused. "Your skulls will make great additions to my collection."

  Mitch rustled himself up to his knees, holding onto his chest. As hard as Edward drove him into that wall, I figured he must have a few broken ribs. Edward saw Mitch. "You want some more cop?"

  He wasn't paying attention to me or Henry. So I moved towards his balls. With three steps I kicked a field goal. Edward took a couple of steps and took a knee.

  With Edward occupied, I turned to Henry. He was standing, but looked still a little shaky.

  He looked under the table. "Help me find my gun, Chloe."

  Before I could tell him that they were at the bottom of the stairs, Edward charged us. He knocked me down then put Henry in a bear hug. His face became red from not being able to breathe. Edward released him and Henry fell to the floor, finally gasping air.

  The kick to the nuts didn’t hurt him like I wanted.

  I searched the floor for the knife, but it was nowhere to be found. Mitch laid on the floor, not far from the entrance. Henry couldn't speak—he made guttural sounds as Edward squeezed the life out of him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Life is pain

  NEVER IN MITCH'S LIFE had this much of his body hurt at one time.

  Even his eyelids hurt. His left pinky toe was the only thing that did not hurt. Mitch shifted about three inches to his left; his eyes teared, but he did not moan or cry out.

  Edward released Creed, and Creed fell to the floor, moaning.

  Next, he watched Chloe do something that he had only seen on WWE wrestling. Somehow she climbed up onto Edward's shoulders. Chloe wrapped her legs around his neck, attempting to choke him out. As her fists pummeled the back of Edward's head, Mitch revised their odds at surviving the night.

  Pain prevented him from even getting to a knee. He wasn't sure if he would die, but if so Mitch wanted to die on his feet. With the stubbornness he inherited from his mother, he took a deep, painful breathe, and rolled and tucked his knees up to his chest; the pain was blinding. Determined, Mitch exhaled and stood upright. Sweat dribbled down his forehead and cheek. He wiped it away, concentrating on taking smaller, shorter breaths.

  Until this moment, his sidearm had been a distant thought. He reached down and patted his hip. Gone. Mystified, he didn't remember losing it. The psycho must have taken it off him after he hit sucker punched him in the dark and knocked him out.

  Jostling about, Edward attempted to shake Chloe free. It worked, and Chloe flew off him, landing on her feet near Creed. Gazing back at the man mountain, Chloe showed absolutely no fear.

  Inspired to action, Mitch moved forward, holding himself together. He was not sure what he could do, but he had to try something. Edward had his back to him.

  He had an idea. It was probably stupid, but it was better than sitting and being lazy. Plus, It'd give Chloe a better chance at taking Edward out. Mitch hoped. As he let out a scream, he took two steps towards him and leapt into the air. Both of his feet landed behind Edward’s right knee.

  Both men fell. Mitch landed hard on the floor, painfully—smacking the back of his head. While causing his body reach a new level of suffering, Mitch’s maneuver only caused Edward to kneel.

  At this point, passing out would have been a blessing from God. Allowing himself to drift off into deep sleep would be easy. But Mitch had to stay awake to help Chloe and Creed.

  Inches away, Edward looked back at him; he swung at Mitch’s head, but missed. It, Mitch suspected, would have knocked him out if landed. Then it happened. Leading with his elbow, Edward leaned back; he drove it into Mitch's chest.

  Pain sang out like an entire church choir high on God's word. Edward twisted his bulk, causing more shooting needles of piercing pain throughout Mitch’s torso. He was surprised that he was still actually conscious.

  Still on top of him, Edward said, "Stay down, cop!"

  In a moment of sheer terror, he spotted her. Time slowed; Chloe had become airborne on a trajectory toward him and Edward. Such a trajectory would only cause him even more suffering.

  The look on her face was one of determination and purposefulness. When she landed on Edward (which meant she landed on Mitch too) the air vacated his lungs. Unable to speak, he glared into her eyes. And hoped his eyes conveyed his pain and for her to get off of him.

  Then something beautiful happened. The pain began to subside. The edges of his vision were getting darker. And something awesome happened. Just before he passed out he watched Chloe bite a chunk out of Edward’s ear.

  Chapter Thirty

  A time to kill

  BACKING UP FROM EDWARD, I spit his ear out.

  Not the entire ear, but most of the top portion was in my mouth before I bit down, severing cartilage and skin.
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br />   "Ouch! You bitch!" Edward yelled, holding onto the side of his head. Spitting more out, I tasted blood. Tasted like all other blood.

  Glancing down, I saw Mitch was not moving. Doing what he just did—kicking Edward's leg—probably caused him a lot of pain, he passed out. Henry couldn't help me either. One down, and one injured; I was in this all by myself. Which suited me just fine. Fighting in such a confined space limited my options. Not to mention his size and strength. Any other man would be dead by now.

  I glanced up at him. "Be honest, Edward, did you ever have sex with Barry? You know, dirty cousin sex?”

  He held onto the side of his head. "Fuck you, little girl." He grabbed the front part of Mitch's shirt, lifting him up, dragging him over to the wall. I suspected so he had room to walk. Edward tossed him and Mitch landed with a thud. He just laid there, not making any noises or moving. But I saw his chest moving, so he still breathing.

  Chuckling, I raised my arm and pointed at him. ”I think you did. You're a freako pervert, aren't you? Were you the man or the woman? Did you two have sexual relations in here? That's so gross!”

  Not reacting to my words, he just stood there, not charging me; he just stared at me. Edward released the side of his head, grinning. "Little girl, I'm going to tie you up and make you watch while I peel the skin from their faces."

  I flipped him off.

  "Have you ever seen someone peel the scalp off a living person? Death does’t come fast. Sometimes they even stay awake during the entire ordeal!"

  My eyes narrowed, and head tilted. If I weren't so amped at the moment, I'd probably shudder. This man, clearly deranged, did not come off as braggadocious. I believed him; he knew how it actually was to scalp someone.

  “Fuck you coward!” Henry said from behind me.

  Instinctually I turned to give him a thumbs up. But before I could say anything, a humongous hand clasped my head, fingers digging into my scalp, grabbing a hold of my hair. For a quick second I thought he would try to rip my scalp off. But he didn't.