Killing Room

by Shawn Raiford

  Instead of leaving him in the trunk the whole way to my camp, I wanted Barry up front with me. "Turn over and put your hands behind you."

  He did what I told him to do.

  I reached under the plastic lining and grabbed a zip tie, and bound his wrists together. "Turn over, then sit up."

  He did what I told him to do.

  "Now get out.”

  Barry got out but I had to help him. After he plugged himself into the passenger seat, I buckled him in and shut the door. He was not getting away from me. Then, I tied up the other guy, stuffed a rag into his mouth, and shut the trunk. Ready to go.

  As I got in behind the wheel, I felt calm. "So, you called Edward and told him I was looking for him.”

  Barry stared out the window. ”Well, he is my cousin."

  "You mean was your cousin."

  Looking over at him, he nodded.

  We did not have far to go; I turned on the radio. Johnny Cash's song, Wide Open Road, played. I pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the road, towards a spot I found a few days ago. "Your friend in the trunk is a bad guy."

  "I guess. You going to kill him?"

  The man's name in the trunk, Wally Shrimper. Wally was a grade-A sleaze ball. "He makes kiddie porn, Barry. He won't survive for too much longer. I am not going to ask you what you’re doing with a man like him. Nothing you can say will help. Like you, Wally deserves to die a horrible death, and I am just the woman to make that happen. But you're going to be first."

  He shook his head. "You told me that if I left town that you wouldn't come after me. You said!"

  “That deal became null and void when you called your cousin and told him about me. Idiot, you shouldn't have done that.”

  "I'm sorry!"

  I looked over at him. "You really think an apology is going to help you, Barry? You called Edward, and Kathleen, his neighbor is dead. Edward tortured her there in front of me before he cut off her head. You helped him survive so he could hunt, capture, torture, and ultimately kill women!"

  "Come on, he was my cousin and you wanted to kill him."

  "He tortured and killed innocent women. He made the movies and you edited them. And you expect to live?”

  Barry turned away and stared at the road.

  Another ten minutes and I spotted the dirt road. Made a left turn and drove for another five minutes. Then I made another left when I saw the rag I tied to the branch of a small ten-foot tree. I pulled up to a small RV. My home for the last few days. A table, two chairs, and ring of stones all were situated next to the RV.

  "What is this?" Barry asked. "Camp?"

  "This is the end of the line, for you.”

  "Come on, how much you want? I have a tidy sum that has your name all over it. What do you say?" Barry said.

  "I don't want your money."

  Parked, got out, and I opened his door—he exited.

  I pulled my pistol, and a knife. "I'm going to cut you free and you better not try anything. You know I can kick your ass, right?"

  He nodded. "Yes."

  “You try anything, I’ll be sure to cut your balls off slowly. Then I'll cook them in the skillet over there. Make you eat them with a little salt and pepper, got me?"

  He nodded.

  I cut the zip tie. Wally stayed in the trunk. I wanted to start the evening’s festivities with a bang. So I shot Barry in the foot. He fell to the ground, screaming.

  "No one can hear you. Just like no one heard the women Edward tortured."

  From the ground, he looked up at me. "All I did was edit his videos. I never did anything to any of those women!"

  "Before Edward broke her neck like chicken, Janice told the cops about how you and her recorded Edward while he tortured a woman. They he killed her."

  He turned away, holding onto his foot. Next, I shot his the other foot. Well, the ankle. No way would he walk out of here. For the next ten minutes he screamed while I got the fire going. I grabbed a cooler from the RV and placed it next to my chair.

  The fire was hot; the beer was cold With a red hot tip, a metal rod, two-foot long, stuck halfway into the fire. "Barry, I have provisions for a couple of weeks more. You think you can last that long?"

  "Please let me go!" he begged again. "I promise, I'll disappear forever!"

  "Oh, I know you're going to disappear forever. Buzzards love human meat.”

  "No! Rose, you can't do this!"

  "But I am doing this. A woman killed Edward. And that same woman is going to kill you."

  With pain in his face and moaning, he stood.

  “Good job, Barry.” I pulled out a bag of marshmallows. They were the big ones—probably five-hundred calories per. Ripped open the bag, I grabbed one and took a bite. Tasty.

  He just stood there. Barry glanced all around him, as if scoping his best route out of the camp.

  I put the bag down on the ground next to the cooler. Impressed that he could stand. “Can you walk?”

  “If I can will you stop me?” he asked.

  “Go for it, I won’t stop you.” But my knife’s blade, the hot end of this rod, or one of my bullets might stop you.

  Attempting one step, Barry fell and began crying.

  Before it too late, I wanted to get started. I got up and walked over to the fire. I pulled the rod from the fire, inspecting the end. Immense heat came off the red-hot end. ”Barry, you ready? Thought I’d start with your feet and work my way up.”

  “No!” He began to crawl away.

  When I reached him, I placed the hot end on the the back of one of his calves. Then he screamed so loud.

  “Wow! That was a good scream, Barry! Edward would be proud of you!”

  The End

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  Shawn was born and raised in Baytown, Texas. He has a B.S. in Electrical Technology from the University of Houston. He's worked as a Sales Engineer and Project Manager before happily trading his cubicle existence for a gig as an indie author.

  Shawn lives with his wife, Lilly, in Houston, Texas.

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