Murderer's Row by Rashad Freeman

Author:Rashad Freeman [Freeman, Rashad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

A GOODBYE TO LOVE

Water ran down the mildew covered concrete and dripped onto a red metal pipe. It made a constant pinging sound that seemed to vibrate through the entire underground structure. It was the heartbeat of the city, the pulse that only a few ever had the pleasure to hear.

The air down there was cool and moist, easy to breathe but left a foul taste on the tongue. Years of fungus and mold growth were not easily removed. But there was something about the smell that was inviting.

A dim red light flickered from a box on the wall. It was a tiny beacon in the darkness, the only source of light in the entire room.

Agnes sat in a rolling chair in front of a row of blank monitors. She seemed to have become one with the darkness, blending in with black tights and a black t-shirt.

Someone began to stir, a labored grunting noise echoed from the other side of the room. Agnes took a quick breath and stood up.

She walked across the room and flipped a switch against the wall. Lights popped on and images fizzled into view on the monitors.

“Who are you?” a man asked in a scratchy voice. “Why am I here?”

“Because you are a pig,” Agnes responded dryly.

The man was strapped to a gurney like the two men beside him. An IV ran to his arm and wires attached to monitors were stuck to his chest. Unlike the other two men, he had a potato sack drenched over his head.

“Please…please let me go,” the man yelled. He turned his head from side to side frantically, but he couldn’t see anything through the thick, beige sack.

The two men next to him didn’t move or make a sound. They were still unconscious or worse.

Agnes laughed then stepped next to his gurney. She pulled at the potato sack and slowly lifted it past the man’s eyes.

In her free hand she clutched a small, silver scalpel. Her face was stone, ice crept through her veins and a fierce sense of conviction glimmered in her eyes.

“You!” the man said in shock as the bag was pulled from his head. “Why? No…no not you.”

“Who else could it have been?” Agnes said.

She raised the scalpel into the air and then plunged it into the man’s chest. He screamed in pain and tried to wiggle free from his restraints without success.

Agnes jabbed the scalpel into him over and over like she was possessed. “You no good bastard!” she yelled, punctuating each stroke.

Blood sprayed into the air splashing across her face. The man’s screams turned to hushed gurgles and grunts as his life seeped from the multiple stab wounds.

Long after he’d fallen silent and stopped moving, Agnes continued to drill the blade into the man’s chest. She stabbed him viscously time and time again until his torso was nothing more than a mushy pile of blood and shredded flesh.

Her hands were soaked in his blood, her face dripping with the thick, red syrup. She smiled and breathed heavily.

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