Redgrave: An Erotic Horror Read online

  We had to get sprayed in the face with it, just to ensure we’d know how it felt and could react professionally if ever doused by accident during an arrest. Whoever thought up that plan was an asshole and probably still had Pepper Spray Parties and invited friends over to have a few beers as they popped in the pepper spray training videos and laughed their asses off.

  But I’m not bitter. It was an experience.

  I’d never forget that day. It hurt like hell. I think I’d rather get shot. I might even prefer peeling my own face off with a razorblade. My sudden surge of badassery was short-lived as I thought about the guy cutting his own flesh with a razor. What would cause someone to do something like that? A satanic ritual.

  I needed to see him again. The urge was overwhelming. Somehow, I needed to know that he was there in bed, just sleeping. I tried to take my mind off the creepiness on the ground floor. What was Chapman doing upstairs, so far removed from the reason we were both here on post? So far away from the sick and twisted bastard in the room. Like Brimms and most of the other guys who’d worked this post, I bet he was upstairs watching porn.

  Satanic ritual. Cut his face off with a razor.

  I stopped walking and looked out at the dark hall again. I was way too focused on my unsettled nerves. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined Chapman watching porn. I could see him leaned back in his chair, his sexy green eyes focused on the screen, as he reached into his pants, pulled out his cock and rubbed a thumb over the soft head, over and over again until it started to fill his grip. Until he was hard.

  The thought made me smile. I opened my eyes to the darkness.

  I wondered if switching posts would be allowed. That hadn’t come up in Sgt. Bowens’ list of rules.

  What if I can convince Chapman to come down to my post and I could sit upstairs at the desk and pretend I was on a regular post guarding something else like most nights?

  I doubted that would go over very well when the sergeant returned to relieve me in the morning. Plus, it would strip me of all I’d hoped to gain by requesting this post—the respect of my brethren.

  From where I stood, the window was barely visible, but I knew it was there. I thought of prison movies I’d seen and thanked God I didn’t need to pass food through the slot. That always seemed to be when the prisoner’s attacked. I watched the window as I approached and hesitated before sticking my face close to it.

  My vivid imagination never lets me down. Suddenly, I was wrapped up in the “what if” game I used to play with my brother growing up. “What if you reach under your bed to get your toy, and you don’t see it, but you feel your fingers get grinded off by a flesh eating monster?”

  Or, “What if you pull back the shower curtain and standing there, just staring at you, is a naked woman, whose eye sockets are full of blood and the skin beneath her eyes has been peeled down and dangles from her chin and she just looks at you and says, “I want you…inside me…forever.”

  These were the thoughts that came to mind as I crept closer to the small window.

  What if a hand suddenly shoots through the glass and grabs me by my nostrils?

  Or what if I peek through the glass with the flashlight and can’t find Redgrave? He’s just simply vanished. And suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder and hear someone whisper, “Do you like my face?”

  I had to shake it off and cowboy up. I really was acting like a puss.

  A peek through the window assured me Redgrave was in bed, still covered with his blanket, and his ankles and socks were still sticking out at the end of the bed. Nothing had changed. I was safe. Man, I wished I could have my gun with me. No soldier should be left without one…ever. That was my new policy on guns. Everyone should have one all the time.

  The bulb overhead flickered and I rolled my eyes. It figured. I glanced up at it and spoke to it like it were some sort of playground bully. “Seriously? You’re gonna start that shit right now? I oughtta…”

  Oughtta what? How do you threaten a light bulb? Show that bulb hell, Sikes.

  I could do nothing so I settled on doing my first set of checks.

  Chapter 2

  In the hallway, I found an outlet where the plastic cover dangled down and the wires were exposed. I squatted down next to it and wondered what exactly I was supposed to be checking.

  Fire hazard? This whole fucking place is a fire hazard.

  I saw no sparks so I went on. I was responsible for this floor and the basement level. That was it. Two floors. I could handle that, no problem. The rest of the hallway loomed before me. Doors were on both sides, opposite each other, maybe ten on each side, and I needed to check them all. So I did, starting with the first one to my left, which turned out to be a bathroom.

  I entered cautiously, probably too carefully for someone who was supposed to be alone. Who did I expect to find on the other side of the door? That sense of foreboding wouldn’t leave me alone. I was rattled for no good reason. I thought of people in real life situations, who had no sense of pending doom, yet died just the same. That made me feel even worse.

  Inside the bathroom, the fluorescent lights above were almost nonexistent. Three out of twelve of the bulbs were in place and out of those three only one worked fully. The other two flickered.

  To my left was a line of urinals and to the right were three stalls. Stalls. Closed stalls.

  For fuck’s sake, why do men have to use stalls? Can’t they just crap in the urinals?

  It was a stupid thought, but if it were the case, I wouldn’t have to worry about opening stall doors. My mind jumped from prison window food trays to every other scary movie where the heroine is stuck in a spooky bathroom with a deranged killer. My deranged killer was locked up though. Well, he wasn’t exactly a killer. As far as I knew.

  I needed to check the stalls, if for no other reason than my own peace of mind. The first had no door so I walked by it and shined the flashlight in. Just a toilet bowl, no seat, and no lid.

  The second stall’s door was closed and the lights around were out, leaving the section of the bathroom in a dark shadow. I reached out carefully with my boot toe. The what-ifs came to mind again and I tried shoving them away, trying to remain in control of my own mind, which was proving to be my biggest enemy.

  What if you push open that door and…

  No, I wouldn’t play the game. My boot toe touched the stall door gently. I took a deep breath and kicked it open.

  As it swung inward, the light above suddenly popped on. A hooded man stood over the toilet, his face shrouded in the darkness of his cloak.

  “Oh shit!” I yelled as I swung up the Maglite in a baseball batter’s position.

  The door swung closed. I jumped back, eyes frozen open, breath caught in my chest, and waited for the figure to leap through the door and attack.

  It didn’t happen.

  Doubt consumed me.

  I held the light out so the beam would shine into the stall. Then I kicked the door open again. This time I caught the door with my hand. My beam passed the toilet. No hooded man. Nothing but an old, black garbage bag that had been used to cover a hole in the wall.

  I crept closer and shined my light at it.

  A fucking garbage bag. Thank God.

  My nervous laughter echoed through the hallway and I cupped a hand over my mouth.

  I’d cleared my first room, and my own insanity had lightened the mood a little. With the bathroom clear, I continued down the hall, checking each door I came across and inspecting all the electrical outlets along the way. The setup of the rooms confirmed my earlier suspicions that this had once been a clinic of some sort.

  One room was obviously an old x-ray room, one other looked like a small surgical room, and the one I was in now appeared to be some sort of classroom. The military often did on-the-job training, so it made sense that a hospital or medical center would have classrooms. I stood in the doorway, slowly moving my flashlight beam over the desks.

  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. When
my ray of light hit a propped up skeleton standing in the corner, I felt my heart skip just a little, but it was nothing like the scare I’d had in the bathroom. Now I was better prepared for odd shapes in the dark.

  Convinced the room was empty, I backed out into the hallway. Then I heard it. A loud CLANG come from somewhere in the building. I heard it again, the sound of something metal falling and then crashing onto the floor. It was coming from the next room down the line.

  The next door was closed and I paused in front of it. Something or someone had to be in this room. I looked back at the end of the hallway where my personal retreat lay.

  My Barbie fucking dream house.

  My bag of chips was back there and my Hot Pockets and the movies I’d planned to watch. All that was waiting for me.

  I can just forge the checks and sit my cute little behind in that room all night. I can do that easily. No one would know. I can go there right now and forget the noises. I can just go back…back where the insane prisoner rested.

  What if he got out somehow? What if he’d been waiting for a weaker guard to spend the night?

  Was I a weaker guard? I sure sounded like one. I couldn’t believe how much of a wimp I was being. I peered at the end of the hall and imagined the gauze-faced madman standing there glaring at me. I imagined seeing the silhouette of the man, with his arms out at his sides, and the razorblade he’d used to carve up his face firmly in his grip. I imagined him just standing there, taunting me, shrouded in shadows.

  Of course, the hall was empty. I looked at the other end of the corridor, wondering what lurked behind each of the remaining doors. What waited behind the one I was standing in front of? Another CLANG from the other side of the door.

  This time, I ripped the door open and shined the flashlight in, half expecting to see someone come rushing at me. There was nothing. Just an empty kitchen and dining room. I reached for the light switch, found it, and flipped it on. It didn’t work. The room remained dark, and freezing, much colder than the previous room.

  The flashlight, once again, was my most valuable asset. I aimed the beam at the left side of the room and found metallic shelving. It must’ve once held military food, the tasty treats meant to last a lifetime. I imagined canisters of beans, without any label other than BEANS. I could practically see the bags of rice and flour. Potatoes had probably been a staple in the clinic suppers. Oh, how the military loved potatoes back in the day.

  Satisfied there was nothing devious going on over by the shelving, I moved the flashlight to the right. More shelving. Shelving and counter space. Gaping holes where appliances were once connected, left the kitchen feeling molested, as if someone had robbed the place of most of its possessions. The kitchen was useless, as was most of the rest of the building, it seemed.

  This was a neglected building, only brought back into commission to serve the military’s current agenda, which was to house some sad piece of shit who’d gone totally fucking insane.

  Kind of like a booty call. The Air Force’s one-night-stand. It’s wham-bam-thank you, Ma’am.

  Once the cop squadron busted its nut, and used it for its purpose, it would be discarded, locked up and left to rot. In an odd sort of way I felt a connection with the old place. I’d been a booty call before. I was kind of hoping I’d be one tonight…or maybe a little bit more. I hoped.

  The kitchen was empty. The clanging had probably come from upstairs. Maybe Chapman was busy doing whatever it was he did when alone, probably tossing his keys up in the air, like a kid punished and sent alone to his room, only to lie back on his bed and toss his baseball up in the air over and over again.

  My light displayed the rest of the room, shadowed image after shadowed image. Nothing of value had been left behind, not in the kitchen or in the dining room next to it. I turned to leave the room.

  CLANG!

  I spun around and reached for my 9mm pistol at my hip.

  Fuck!

  My hand slid off the empty slot at my belt.

  I held the light up instead. Nothing.

  CLANG!

  I can’t lie. I wanted to piss myself. I was so fucking scared. The flashlight beam danced in my shaking hand. Reflections shined back at me as I passed over the metal shelving. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  My heart thudded.

  God, this building sucks so bad!

  My feet slid forward, one boot at a time, as I crept toward the back of the kitchen. All was quiet, too quiet.

  “Hey downstairs, you awake?” The radio blared at my hip.

  I nearly fell into the shelving.

  A scratching sound and a HISS brought me back to my feet. I aimed my light at the counter and saw the ugliest beast I’d ever seen. Its eyes glowed yellow and its mouth was open wide, teeth bared, quills fanned out. It was the evilest fucking porcupine I’d ever seen.

  It hissed at me again and I wished I had my fucking gun. Not that I could shoot it anyway. Bullets were checked by the armory each morning at weapon turn-in. One missing round would lead to an entire investigation and shooting a porcupine probably wouldn’t fly.

  A porcupine. A fucking porcupine.

  I looked up at the ceiling and thanked God it was just a rodent. If a porcupine is even considered a rodent. They might as well be, they were always getting onto the flight line and driving the alarm sensors nuts.

  Is there going to be anything about this night that won’t make me look like such a coward? Seriously.

  Laughter escaped my lips and with it all the nerves and anxiety I’d been holding in. It was like release from a pressure valve. Surprisingly, this was the first porcupine I’d seen up close. I’d once fed Dots candies to a fox on the flight line, just to watch it struggle to get the gummy treats out of its teeth. Mean, I know, but it kept me awake and filled his gullet.

  I’d even once found a bear trying to get into a restaurant’s grease pit. Moose were all over the base and wolves could be heard howling at night, but this was the first porcupine I’d encountered. I considered trying to get it out of the building until I remembered I was locked in.

  Did it break in to free the prisoner? No. Is it a fire hazard? I don’t think so.

  I moved around it carefully and checked the walls at the back of the room. There it was, a crack in the wall, and a hole at the base just large enough for a small animal to crawl through. I wondered if I should report it. No human could squeeze through but still. I needed to remind myself to check the log later. Maybe it was already noted.

  In the hall, I let the kitchen door click shut behind me and then I crashed against it, laughing to myself. I was being ridiculous. And that asshole upstairs nearly gave me a heart attack. I ripped the radio from my hip and held it to my mouth. Just as I was about to speak, the control center beat me to the punch.

  “Confinement Two, this is Force Control, did you have a message?”

  Ha, Chapman, the dumbass. Busted.

  Personal messages weren’t allowed on the radio.

  “Umm, Control, this is Confinement Two, that’s a negative. All is good,” Chapman’s voice thundered.

  And it did seem to thunder. The empty hallway bounced the man’s voice around for what seemed like much longer than necessary. The building taunted me, picking at my nerves, strumming my heart strings.

  “Good, good, good...” Chapman’s last word lingered.

  I shook it off and locked in on Chapman’s radio number. I set my radio to go direct with him, that way no one else, especially Force Control, could hear me.

  “Hey, you there?” I asked.

  “Uhh…yeah. That was dumb. Should have gone direct with you,” Chapman answered.

  It was dumb, but at least I know you’re thinking of me.

  “Did I wake you up?” Chapman asked.

  “You can say that.”

  “Hey come on up here. That ol’ son of a bitch ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  “Let me finish my rounds.”

  “You mean your walk around? Hell, nobody
does that, man.”

  Man. Did he mean man as in, “Hey good buddy?” Or man as in, “Man, that shit was hilarious?”

  I ignored him. I tried to remember that he was an incredible fuck and whether or not it ever turned into a relationship, I was definitely getting mine. Or at least I’d gotten mine. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me now or not.

  The thought was kind of depressing.

  I touched the wall to my left.

  “Booty call,” I said out loud.