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    Night of the Razor
    Night of the Razor
    Night of the Razor
    Ebook152 pages2 hours

    Night of the Razor

    By Lex Williams

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    About this ebook

    WARNING: Contains high impact horror and mature themes. Discretion is advised.

    A scream echoed through the night. The tall, broad woman clad in armour with a boar-like helmet stepped into the street.

    Another night. Another crazy trying to fulfill some impossible nightmare, no matter the lives it destroys. That's where heroes come in, to stop them.

    And when you can't find a hero? You might find Razor; a tired woman making loping steps through the same routine in a world that demands to be carried on her back, intent on breaking it.

    And tonight, it might just succeed.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLex Williams
    Release dateMay 21, 2017
    ISBN9781370192786
    Night of the Razor
    Author

    Lex Williams

    Lex Williams is a novelettist ( although occasionally writing novellas with the rare novel ) whose intent is to take advantage of self-publishing stories to provide interesting, different and weird ideas that you won't find in traditionally published stories. Williams typically writes for the horror genre ( usually dipping into the surreal variety ), but has explored other areas, such as ( non erotic ) romance and science fiction.

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      Book preview

      Night of the Razor - Lex Williams

      Night of the Razor

      Lex Williams

      Distributed by Smashwords

      Copyright 2017 Lex Williams

      Thanks to my editor, Lee Cope, who I found through writerfind.com.

      Thanks to my cover artist, Pius Pranoto, who I found at deviantart.com under the username, telaga.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Table of Contents

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      Other Titles by Lex Williams

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      1

      She was cloaked in the shadows of the night; only the glow of her cigarette highlighted the harsh contours of her face. The suited woman glanced around the quiet car park as she leaned on her car. There was a distant clinking of steel on steel. Right on cue.

      She turned toward the imposing figure, clad in bulky armour. The armour didn't restrict its wearers movement as much it seemed like it should've, its bulk came almost entirely from its weight. Its defining feature was a helmet in the shape of a boar – complete with snout and tusks.

      The armoured woman stopped a distance from the suited woman. Her voice had a slight echo. Where's Jonno?

      The suited woman flicked her cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. This is a dangerous profession. As far as you're concerned, I'm Jonno.

      The armoured woman grunted. You're a woman.

      Jonno nodded. It's good to know you're not blind in that thing, Razor.

      You didn't call me here to shoot the shit. What's wrong?

      Jonno sighed. Dr Prometheus has escaped.

      Razor grunted. How the fuck did he manage that? Aren't ultra max prisons designed to hold Supervillians?

      Jonno shrugged. Does it really matter? He's on the loose. We need someone to stop him.

      Razor held up a hand. Actually it does. Knowing how he escaped might clue me in to what I have to be prepared for.

      Jonno glanced away. The tapes are still being reviewed – but we believe he had assistance from someone.

      Who?

      Jonno pointed. We're hoping that you might be able to drag that out of him.

      Razor turned away. She stared at the still cityscape. Out there lay madness, and someone had to slap some sense into it. My bet is on the Warden or Satan.

      We're not asking you to guess, Razor. Jonno walked around Razor and stared into the black eyes of the helmet. What's more important than who is why. Prometheus isn't the easiest guy to get along with.

      Razor snorted. Yeah … that's true.

      Something is very wrong and we can't afford to be the last to find out. Jonno pulled out a cigarette and walked toward the railing. I hope you understand how important this is.

      Razor nodded. If it's that important, then why call for me? Where's Eagle?

      Jonno exhaled smoke. It hovered around her for a second before being torn away by the wind. He won't be coming to this one.

      Razor snorted. What's his excuse, a nest to tend to?

      Jonno turned around, leaning against the railing. Better than a sty.

      Razor laughed. You got balls … ovaries … whatever. Is that his decision or yours?

      Does it matter?

      Razor shrugged and stepped closer. I'd just like to know if I'm going in without backup because he hates me, or because you do.

      Jonno smiled as she took another puff. Smoke drifted around her as she spoke. Us. Definitely. But you already knew that.

      Razor chuckled. The Agency takes my heart just to break it.

      Jonno turned back against the railing and flicked away her cigarette butt. You Loonies are all ego. You ready to go after him?

      Razor trod behind her. Sure – I guess you don't know where he is?

      Jonno pointed to a distant building. Two blocks behind that building is an abandoned hideout, one of the first few he ever had. He's holed up in there.

      Razor stepped back. You know where he is?

      Jonno rubbed her forehead. Yes-

      Then why the fuck do you need me? Send the bloody Eagle.

      Jonno glanced over her shoulder. Our surveillance team has determined that he's waiting for us. He knows all our tricks by this point. We need to do something he won't expect.

      Me, without backup?

      Jonno stuffed her hands into her pockets and muttered, Fuck me, it's cold. She frowned. The last thing he's going to expect is you, off the leash, leading the charge. Of course, he'll be expecting the Eagle to reign you in. He'll be distracted, waiting for someone who'll never come.

      Razor shook her head. That's a terrible plan.

      It's the best we can do on short notice. Are you in or out?

      What do you think?

      2

      Razor's steps rumbled as she stomped down the dark street. Her helmet's pointed tusks entered the light before her, glistening as she stepped into the light.

      Ahead was the police barricade. A truck that was being diverted rolled to a stop next to Razor. The driver leaned out of the window, Hey! You going to kill the fucker so the rest of us can get on with our lives or what? I'm sick of this bullshit – it's always fucking diversions away from lunatics!

      Razor stopped and turned to the driver. Her mask had one way plastic shields over her eyes – the driver's reflection stared back at him as she walked closer. He flinched.

      Razor leaned into his window. I'm sorry, what was that? Were you telling me what to do?

      The man leaned onto the other seat and shrugged.

      Razor nodded. I fucking thought so.

      She held her gaze as she stepped away from the truck and approached the police barricade. One of the officers waved. Razor, over here!

      She glanced around as she moved toward him, towering over him. What?

      Um, he's in-

      I know.

      Uh, good.

      Just stay out of my way.

      The officer looked away. Where's the Eagle?

      Razor stared. He's at home, washing his tights.

      She marched down the rest of the block and found the old building. Cracked bricks and smashed windows lined the whole thing. She peered inside. Debris was scattered everywhere.

      It was as bad as she could imagine – any traps he might've hidden would be invisible amongst the mess. Then again, these kinds of people moved in patterns. The front door would be rigged, as would be all the windows on the ground floor.

      Maybe her armour could take it, but if it couldn't … could be a short night if she got a major artery cut. Best to play it safe.

      Razor dug her fingers into the bricks and pulled herself up. She kicked in foot holes where she needed them. After a minute of climbing and grunting she flipped onto the roof.

      He probably didn't have enough time to trap the roof. Especially with a police cordon – there'd be snipers just waiting to blow off a limb. Not even he was that crazy.

      She moved over to the skylight and glanced down. Too obvious to trap?

      Razor grabbed the steel covering and ripped it off its hinges. She hurled it down.

      Dust and debris erupted as traps went off on the ground floor. Some were little explosions, others were pieces of swinging metal that slammed into walls and floors where a target would have been standing.

      She smiled. Nothing like a good entrance. She leaped.

      The ground shook as she slammed into it. She remembered the layout of this place – there was a time when it was an ordinary warehouse for ordinary people to do their ordinary jobs.

      Until some people stopped being ordinary. Places like this quickly became either ghost towns or graveyards; only the stupid hung around for the chaos.

      Razor trudged over the uneven ground and headed for the basement. It was too small to trap – he needed a way out too. She descended the creaking stairs to find a large, open basement. Pillars of brick and concrete, spaced evenly, held up the roof.

      She saw him at the far side. His silhouette turned around. Razor? Just the woman I was expecting.

      Razor grunted. Somehow I doubt that.

      Oh, on the contrary, I have new arms I want to test out.

      Razor glanced over to the slab of concrete beside him. A still-moving black man groaned. His arms were gone, beside the body were two discarded arms – one white, the other brown.

      Dr Prometheus laughed. The heavyweight champion of the world. I don't think he'll be quite up to the next match, though.

      Razor stepped closer. I don't understand why you don't just kill these people if you're going to steal body parts from them.

      Dr Prometheus moved between the shadows. Oh, my dearest little piglet. My doctorate isn't just for show. I am an artist with the scalpel. He stepped into the light. His whole body was a patchwork of stitched together skin – all different colours. Even his eyes were different. Both of his arms were black, as she was expecting. He made her stomach turn.

      Razor moved past a column. What do you think you're accomplishing?

      There's only one test of superiority. The most primal expression of power. Violence.

      Dr Prometheus leaped at her. Her hands went up, ready to block, but she wasn't expecting his arms to be quite so fast. His fists bounced off her forearms. Each blow made her whole upper-body shudder.

      She swung back with desperate, wide punches. He danced around her fists, smiling as she punched through a brick column. She had exposed her side to him, and he let her know it with a jab.

      Razor stumbled back. This wasn't going to work. Prometheus darted toward her. She had to do something. She slammed her open palms onto the ground. That made him hesitate.

      Dust flicked up as she dragged her clawed hands back toward her. She stepped back into the expanding dust cloud until it covered her whole body.

      From somewhere beyond the cloud, Dr Prometheus laughed. "You can't hide

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