Killing Room

by Shawn Raiford

  That an innocent dinner turned into a drunken night in a pool, naked. She had always wondered if Christopher wanted to have sex with Amy; Danny had made a pass at her, but she shrugged it off as him being too drunk. Even though he was drunk, she liked the attention.

  She sighed and thought how life was strange at times. Like how she was waiting for a woman she only met thirty-seconds ago, who went in a warehouse owned by her insane neighbor. If he could do that to dogs, Kathleen knew, he could do that to people. Hell was waiting for him.

  Rose had been gone for too long. "Come on, Rose! I need a drink!" Staring down the street, she hoped for the miracle of a passing patrol car but it never came.

  Kathleen decided to be proactive; she unlocked the door, and opened it. As she got out and stood next to the car, she shoved the knife Rose gave her into her pocket. She tiptoed like a cat burglar with bad knees across the street. God, her knees must have popped ten times. Nothing she could do about loud joints.

  A cat came out of nowhere, almost making her scream. It ambled down the sidewalk, continuing its search for a midnight snack.

  Kathleen walked up to the door and kneeled, peeping under the door. Only Edward's car was visible. Before fear won out and she got back in her car and left, she laid down and rolled inside. Standing up in the darkness caused her to lose her balance. Almost falling back down, she stabilized herself in time; she waited maybe a full minute before her eyes adjusted.

  Enough outside light (from under the door and a window on the wall) seeped inside, allowing her to see a little. Barely make them out. Old machines littered the place; they appeared to be old, even ancient—their purpose eluded her.

  Kathleen did not move from her spot, pivoted her head from left to right, then right to left. Sinister looking, the warehouse could be a horror film movie set.

  No sign of Rose.

  Then she remembered that she had two phones, admonishing herself for not having one out at the ready. As she pulled out hers from her back pocket, Kathleen realized she left Rose's in the car. When she turned on the flashlight feature she was surprised at the level of brightness; it illuminated the old machinery enough to see the dust covering it. An old bicycle lay against the right wall, both tires flat, and its seat was missing. With a quick smirk, she thought about stealing it; it would be awesome if she took it—steal something of Edward's.

  Directly in front of her, against the back wall, Kathleen spied a room, maybe an office, on stilts in the darkness. To the left, a set of stairs led up to the office. Barely making out the door at the top of the stairs, her heart skipped a beat. Possibly the spot she'd find Rose. Fear of Edward hearing her prevented Kathleen from yelling her name out. No telling how mad he would be if he found her here.

  As if on cue from the darkness, a deep voice said, "Hello, neighbor."

  A lump formed in her throat, Kathleen's knees became weak; her bowels loosened—it was Edward.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mommy issues

  EDWARD FOUND THE DRIVER of the other car wandering around downstairs near his weights; he had been

  Once he stripped and strapped her down to the table, he went down to the warehouse to wait for Kathleen. He thought she’d never get out of the car. When she finally did exit the car and enter his warehouse he could barely believe his eyes.

  Earlier, he made Crystal scream, and Kathleen’s friend upstairs (ready to scream) and now Kathleen herself is here; Christmas came early.

  As he stared at her, he was reminded of his useless mother. Memories of her death surfaced. It was like it happened yesterday; he did not make it happen, but he was present.

  It happened many years ago. Angry at a motorist for cutting him off on the highway, he finally got home from his job and was starving. Dinner was waiting for him and his dad, but his dad hadn’t made it home yet.

  Instead of waiting for him so everyone could eat together, he told her to make him a plate. Flavorless crap, typical, and he told her so. She offered to make him something else. Be wanted to backhand her; he never touched his mother—his dad always did that. When Edward felt angry he did not like being around people. He told her to stay away from him and wait for his dad’s arrival.

  Compliant, as usual, his mother nodded and went to the kitchen to busy herself. He was starving and didn't want to wait for her to make something else. So he just ate the food she gave him.

  Halfway done with his food when his dad arrived from the pool hall. His dad had been retired for a few years and spent most days playing pool and drinking. The dinning table had a direct line-of-sight to the front door; his dad entered the house, took off his shoes and slipped on his sandals that were always near the front door.

  He approached the dinning table and acknowledged Edward. Edward nodded at his father, and continued eating his dinner.

  His dad said, “Wife, I'm hungry.”

  “Be right there, honey.” While bringing his plate over, his mother tripped. Stepping on the end of her long dress, his mother fell, spilling food over his dad. Immediately she stood, whimpering and crying. “I’m sorry!” She knew what was coming.

  Edward smiled, knowing how his dad would react. His father had threatened his mother for weeks; her clumsiness irritated him greatly. His father snatched her by her hair and rushed her into the garage.

  Eagerly, Edward followed.

  When they made it to the garage, his dad looked at him and said, “Get a chair son. I need tie her down so she doesn’t move around while I whip her.”

  While Edward retrieved the chair, his dad stripped his mother to her underwear.

  “No! I’m sorry!” his mother begged.

  Edward found a chair and duct tape. He knew his dad would ask for it as well.

  “Thanks son.”

  While his dad held down his mother, Edward taped her wrists and ankles to the chair. His mother struggled, but she could not escape. His father left to get something from the house.

  His mother tried to convince him that he was making a mistake. “Eddy, please, I’m your mother. Please don’t do this.”

  “You brought this on yourself. You shouldn’t be so fucking clumsy you stupid bitch.”

  “Your father makes me wear these long dresses to cover up all the bruises I get from the beatings. He doesn’t want people to see what he does to me.”

  “Shut up!”

  Then his dad came back with a dirty sock. His dad said, “I have warned you for a long time. This is your fault!”

  “Frank, don’t do this!”

  “I beat you and beat you. Since we got married, I’ve used my belt, and I’ve had to beat you. All to teach you. Women need to learn from their husbands. But I’ve failed. You still waste food. You’re still a clumsy bitch! But, you know I can’t give up on you,” he said. “You will learn one day!”

  Edward was a little disappointed when his dad shoved the sock into her mouth and taped it shut.

  His dad pulled his belt from his pants. “Mary, this is going to hurt, and I hope you finally learn.” He whipped her.

  Edward sat on the floor behind her, watching and listening. Her screams were loud enough for him; it was the first time screams caused him to have an erection.

  His father took out the sock and said, “When I cut you free, go inside and clean yourself up. Then you’ll clean up that fucking mess you made. You need to hurry up with all that because I’m hungry!”

  His mother looked up, her eyes narrowed. She said, “Fuck you! I’ll go in there and call the fucking cops! I’ve wasted so much time being scared of y—“ She stopped talking when his father picked up a hammer and slammed the claw end down on top her head—killing her instantly. Or so Edward believed it was instant. It was one of the few times he was proud of his mother: she showed defiance and strength.

  Her body was left in the room to rot for days. After two weeks, Edward took her remains out of the city limits and dug a grave and buried his mother. Before covering her up, he severed her head, taking it with hi
m; he also snipped off her finger tips. All done so law enforcement couldn’t identify her if found.

  Ever since her demise, Edward had not missed his mother, at all. A goat had more of a purpose than that woman. Worse, his mother was weak. However, she was his mother; he came out of her, so he kept her skull—it was with the others.

  For several seconds, he watched Kathleen as she stood near his car. Probably allowing her eyes adjust to the darkness, while looking for her friend. At times he did the same. He would pick a spot within the warehouse and just stand there for an hour or so; he liked the darkness. Mostly alley cats dared enter his warehouse. Sometimes he caught them, making them scream.

  To explain Kathleen’s presence, he figured she simply followed him from home. From now on he would have to be more careful when coming and going. No telling who was watching.

  At the moment he was so happy that she was here. Barely able to contain himself, he walked up to within just a few feet of her, and watched. The light shook in her hand; she was scared, and rightly so. Only if she knew what he had planned for her.

  Ever since he met Kathleen Henderson, Edward wanted to hear her scream, and now he finally would. On his table, she would be strapped down tightly; he planned on using all of his power tools on her—making his best video ever. It would not be for sale, for his eyes only.

  When she made it to the back of the warehouse, he got real close to her and said, "Hello, neighbor."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hello, Kathleen

  KATHLEEN STARED UP AT him like a baby seal knowing it was about to be clubbed. "Please, Edward, don't hurt me!"

  He ignored her, punching her hard. Her knees buckled and she fell; she tried to stand, but she kept tripping and falling. Finally she realized she was not going to get up on her own volition anytime soon.

  Edward picked her up like she were a Yorkie. He threw her across his shoulder; they moved up the stairs. Kathleen began crying. He was going to kill her and she couldn’t do anything about it. Where was Rose? "Edward, please let me go! I promise I won't say anything to anyone. I swear to God!"

  When he dropped her, Kathleen landed hard on the cement floor. But this time she was able to stand back up. He grabbed her wrist, then punched her in the face; her legs became Jell-O. She fell again. Edward yanked her up by the wrist. With little effort, he held her up like a parent clutching a misbehaving toddler. In spite of the fact it was so dark, she could see parts of him; she followed along the arm holding her, up to a dark silhouette of his head. He had something on his head—covering his eyes.

  "Stand up!" he growled.

  A waft of bad breath violated her nostrils, waking her a little, but her legs were still weak. "I'm tr—"

  Edward released her, and gravity pulled Kathleen to the floor.

  He reached down and grabbed her hair, yanking her up. "Kathleen, you better stand up right now or I'll snap your neck right here!"

  Kathleen did not want to die here; especially by Edward's hand. What would Christopher do without her? There was too much of the world to see yet; she couldn’t leave her husband like this.

  As she stood, Edward's fingers dug into her neck, and they did not feel like her husband's fingers: soft and gentle. Edward's were unbelievably strong and coarse. Surely he could easily break her neck with one hand. If he killed her right now, on the spot, the good thing would be that she wouldn’t have to experience him raping her.

  “Where’s Christopher?”

  “He’s out of town, working!”

  "So, he's not going to show up?"

  "No, like I said, he's working out of town."

  He frowned and punched Kathleen hard in the face again.

  She crumpled and fell to the floor, but didn't pass out. A tightening in her chest made it difficult to breathe; her arms and legs would not move.

  Edward grabbed her by the arm again and yanked. Pain erupted in her shoulder, possibly from a dislocation. He walked, dragging her. Pain pulsated as she tried screaming, but her voice box froze. Kathleen tried swallowing, but she couldn't even do that.

  Edward stopped, tossing her limp body over his right shoulder. Then, as if she had an instant charge of the batteries, she squirmed enough to drop to the floor before he could grab her. Landing hard on her side, her hip and shoulder absorbed the impact. Barely feeling any pain this time, she moved into a crouch and took off towards the front door she rolled under moments ago.

  Edward chuckled. "Where are you going, neighbor?”

  Focused on running, she did not turn around. Dim light under the door represented her freedom, so that was her destination. She was not going to die in this fucking warehouse.

  "You know you can't escape!" he said.

  Kathleen's left hamstring cramped badly, causing her to pause. Determined that nothing would stop her reaching the light, she began hopping on one leg towards the light. Her freedom inched closer by the second.

  She was about to fall down and roll under the door when a vise clamped down on her shoulder and squeezed. Squirming from underneath the grip did not work. Edward pushed her to the floor. He bent over her; she then saw what covered his eyes. Goggles. They were more visible now, closer to the door and the light; the goggles were for seeing at night.

  He said, ”I told you that you can't escape, neighbor.”

  That horrible realization washed over her then her body became limp. Once again, Edward, with ease, picked her up; he threw her over his shoulder and walked away from the light—her freedom. Her hands and feet dangled, and she did not try to move at first. Pain and possible death might be imminent, but she would not give up without a fight.

  "Kathleen, you are feisty. Are you always like this?" he asked, placing his hand on her hip. He shifted her body on his shoulder. "I hope you are feisty on my table."

  No, I won’t die like this! she told herself. An idea popped into her head. God, it had to work or she really was dead. Still on top of his shoulder, Kathleen stiffened board-straight. She rotated onto her left side; she put a hand on the back of his head, for balance, and brought up her right knee, connecting with Edward's chin. At times she liked watching WWE, the guys were so hot. Some of the wrestling moves must’ve stuck in her head.

  Edward halted and leaned over, grabbing at his chin. And Kathleen dropped; she landed on her knees. It hurt, but she ignored the pain. She knew that she got him good; this was her chance at escape. Facing the other way, Edward was dazed, shaking his head. Even big men couldn't handle a knee directly to the chin. Although she didn’t knock him out, the strike to his chin afforded her several precious seconds head start.

  Standing and feeling like she could make it, Kathleen turned, gazing at the light that represented her freedom. Before she took off again, she turned rapidly and noticed that Edward had taken a knee. OMG! He's really dazed! RUN! RUN! RUN!

  Still cramped, her leg would not work; Kathleen couldn't run so she hobbled. Just as long as she made it outside, she didn’t care how bad it looked.

  "Come back here!” Edward said.

  Would she go to her car or just run for it? Her keys were still in her front pocket. It made sense to go for her car instead of hobbling down the road. Eventually, Edward would catch her. Then the thing that she yelled at in every horror movie she’s ever watched happened. Kathleen's good ankle rolled, and she went down. Any other day she would be screaming at the top of her lungs from the throbbing pain, but it wouldn’t help in the current situation. Screaming meant wasting precious time she did not have.

  Hazarding a glance behind her, there was enough light to see him; Edward was still down on a knee, his gaze was down at the floor.

  Kathleen took a deep breath and stood up; she had to suck it up—her survival depended on it. Almost falling again, the ankle sustained her weight. Her progress started off a little shaky, but it got better. She got to full-speed hobble in a matter of seconds.

  The door fast approached, the skin on her face stretched out into a smiled. Allowing gravity to
take over, she landed flat on the floor, and then she rolled. Once on the outside she got up to a knee and took a moment to catch her breath. YES! I'm going to make it!

  Standing fully erect now, Kathleen wanted to scream out in victory, but there was no one around to hear her. She limped across the street. When she reached her car, she grabbed her keys from her pocket. A small miracle that he hadn't searched her and taken them.

  She looked at the door, no Edward. Her keys were so slippery in he hand. She found the electronic key and pressed the open button. That’s when Edward emerged out from under the warehouse door. Her heart sank deep into her belly. “NO!”

  Jerked the driver’s side door open, and she sat down behind the wheel. The electronic key was shoved into its hole. As she fingered the Start button the driver's side door opened; Edward grabbed her by the hair and pulled, peeling her out of the driver’s seat.

  Almost ripping her hair from her scalp, Kathleen stood on her tip toes as Edward crouched and said, ”You are going to pay for hitting me, bitch!"

  He punched her again, harder than the other times; she blinked twice before she blacked out. When she woke, it was dark and she moving. He was dragging her, grasping the back of her blouse. Approaching the stairs, she wanted to resist him but she did not have the strength. Up the stairs, her knees grated across every step.

  They made it to the top and she did not feel any pain. When he opened the door, she looked up and Kathleen caught a glimpse of Rose; she was naked and strapped to a table. God, what was he doing to her?

  He dropped her onto the floor; she rolled over so she could watch him. With blurry vision, she was able to push herself up onto an elbow. A huge pot sat on the desk. Before Edward moved she spotted severed heads over on a shelf to the right. That’s what he had planned!