\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2137156-The-Private-Red-Room
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Horror/Scary · #2137156
Fred & Rose West were serial killers and rapists that killed over the course of 20 years.
Taegan Thomas
Ms. Reaves
English III (H)
9 October, 2017

“We had met in 1969. I fell in love with her after our first date. Not long after we started a relationship, I knew that I could tell her anything. I told her about Anne McFall: how I had gotten her pregnant and when she begged me to leave my wife for her, that I had killed her brutally. Her body is buried under a cornfield in Kemply. I had to chop her up so that she was easier to move… Rose understood. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t scared. And that’s when I knew… “
Rosemary enters the butcher shop with a lost look on her face, trying to remember what her mother told her to get. But rather than looking at the options on the board, Rose’s attention is caught by the very cute butcher. His attention has been on her since she came in the door. Despite her chubbier body, her face is rather sweet and pretty, and she is very proud of how she looks, trying to push her chest up so Fred will notice. “Hi there, pretty lady. What can I help you with today?” Fred notices.
“Could I have some merlot steak, pork collar, and lamb neck?” Rose smiles gently. Fred smiles back and grabs the pieces of meat she has requested.
“What are all of these fancy meats for?” he asks as he starts wrapping up the pork collar. Rose blushes.
“Well you see, today is my birthday and my mum sent me to pick up the best for her best.” She giggles. “I’m 15 today, so I’m a woman now.” Rosemary spins around in a circle with a giant grin on her face. Fred checks out her body as she does so, and is rather impressed with her figure. Fred knows that he is 12 years older than Rose, but he’s hoping that she will fall for him either way, and he can find another young girl to cheat on his wife with.
“A woman indeed. I can tell that you’re extremely mature, and you have a nice full figure. I bet boys at school can’t keep their hands off of you.” Fred has used this line before: telling young girls that they must be desirable to many, which in return flatters them, and leaves them wanting to hear more about themselves. This is when Fred makes his move.
Rosemary scoffs. “I don’t think so. Boys are not interested in the likes of me at all. But men- men have my attention, and I will gladly take theirs,” she sways side to side, hoping that he will acknowledge her hints. “They know more about lots of things. Plus, they are better at snogging.” Fred laughs aloud at this. How desperate this girl is for attention.
“This is true,” he hisses, “men do know lots of things about lots of things. What do you know about these types of things?” He leans over the counter and settles his face no more than a mere three inches away from Rose’s. She licks her lips.
“Plenty.” From this day on, everything changes. Rosemary soon becomes pregnant with Fred’s baby. She then has to take care of his two children- one stepdaughter and another daughter from Fred’s soon-to-be-ex-wife Rena, and then their baby, Heather. Living in a tiny flat caring for three little ones while your boyfriend is serving a ten-month prison sentence can be very stressful for a 17-year-old girl. Another outburst from an 8-year-old might drive one insane…

* * *

“Mummy, I need help with my spelling! I can’t pass this test without knowing the words!” Charmaine cries to Rosemary in hopes that she will kindly help her. Charmaine stares at the words on the paper tempestuously. “Mummy!” Tears roll down her cheeks.
“Charmaine, I am busy right now. I cannot have you screaming at me while I’m taking care of the baby. Give me a minute to finish cooking supper so I can feed Heather.” Rosemary is not having it today. She is trying to remain strong, but being a temporarily single mom of three girls is driving her crazy. “You can figure it out. Write them out a few times and read them over again.”
“But-”
“Don’t you dare “but” me!” Rose is too aggravated to handle Charmaine, and as a result, she smacks her as hard as she could with the wooden spoon she was using the stir the goulash. Charmaine falls to the floor with a hard thud. “I can’t take it anymore! You’re a demon-child!” Rose quickly puts the other two little girls to bed for an afternoon nap. “You’re dead.” In that moment, Rose snaps. She grabs another spoon from a nearby kitchen drawer and repeatedly beats Charmaine. She shrieks and cries out in pain, but Rose doesn’t stop. In her blind rage, she beats the little 8-year-old to death, going from the spoon to her fists, and then to kicking her in the head over and over.
Charmaine West is viciously murdered by her step-mother on this day, June 15, 1971. After Rose hides her body, she grabs the two other girls then takes them to see their father in prison.
“Fred, you’re going to have to help me. I killed her, we have to hide this. How can we hide this?” Fred thinks for a moment, not at all upset or shocked that his 17-year-old fiance just killed his daughter.
“When I get out on the 24th, I can take care of the body. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll take care of you.” Fred reaches his hands out to Rose, who cups them with her own, and they look lovingly into each other’s eyes. Their time is up, and Rosemary gathers the children and they go back to the flat, then go to sleep.

* * *
August rolls around and everything is pleasant for the West clan. Charmaine’s body was buried under the house, and no one bothered to report her missing. The only problem is that Rena had come to town. Rena is Fred’s ex-wife, and (also) the mother of Charmaine and Anne Marie. She phoned Christine, Fred’s sister-in-law, and asked if she knew anything about how her daughters were doing.
“Have you seen them lately? I haven’t seen Charmaine in quite some time, and I bet that little Anne Marie is looking all grown up,” she sighs into the phone. “I really don’t want Fred to be in charge of them. You know how he is.” Rena thinks about all of the awful things that her ex-husband did in the past. He is a cheater, a molester, and he killed a four-year-old boy while they were living in Scotland. “He abused me, you know. What if he is doing the same thing to Charmaine? He was especially mean to her when he and I were still together.”
Christine listened to her friend carefully, very aware that Fred is a villain. “Listen, sweetie, the best thing you can do is demand for custody. You guys can settle everything in court. It won’t be fun and it will take some time, but he’s been in jail for the past 10 months. Why would they allow an ex-convict to keep his children?” Christine feels like she is assuring Rena, but she is scared of what might happen if Rena does confront Fred.
“You’re right! I should march over there and demand my children back. His 17-year-old lover can’t do anything about it, she isn’t their mum. I am. I’m going over there.” Rena hangs up the phone. One short drive later, Rena arrives at her ex-husband’s home. When she approaches Fred’s flat, an eerie feeling knots up her stomach. “I’m already here. I might as well get it done.” She takes a deep breath and heads to the front door. Once she reaches the first step, the door opens up.
“Rena, hi, how are you?” Fred inquires in a sickeningly sweet voice. His eyes are puffy underneath from a lack of sleep and Rena hears 7-year-old Anne Marie sobbing softly in the background.
“I want my children back. I want to see Charmaine and Anne Marie. I want to see them right now.” Rena tries to stand her ground, but her fear increases when Fred cracks an evil grin.“Please, Fred. I just miss my little girls.”
Fred’s smirk grows wider. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid that you are too late. Charmaine is with my mum in London for a break. Anne Marie is in here, having a fit over biscuits and milk. Do you want to see her?” He opens the door a little more, revealing a surprisingly bare home.
“Yes, I do, but I want to see both of my girls. Why is Charmaine in London with your mum?” Rena looks suspiciously inside the house, not sure if it is safe for her to enter or not. She spies a telephone on a side table next to a tiny loveseat. “May I phone your mum?” He opens the door fully for her and steps aside, allowing her to enter the flat.
“That is fine by me, let me just talk to Rose real quick and fetch you the number.” Fred hurries off to another room. Rena finds this odd, but plops down on the loveseat and waits for Fred to return with the number needed to call his mother. Rena has a sudden interest in the room she is in. There is one loveseat, a brown recliner, and a small TV across the way- no baby toys or spots of a family of 5 to sit down and spend time together. It wasn’t messy, but it was dirty. There was dust accumulating on the TV stand, the side table where the telephone was, plus the concrete floor had a thick layer of dirt. I guess the 17-year-old kid doesn’t know how to clean a house. Rena turns her attention to the large window on her right. A thick fog is rising and the sun is setting, meaning the hot August afternoon was turning into a brisk night.
Rena notices something strange… the sounds. The entire flat is suddenly dead silent. Out of the corner of her eye, Rena catches a glimpse of a shadow. When she turns her head to see what is going on, it’s too late. Fred hits her in the head with a flashlight while Rosemary scoots a chair towards them with some rope in her hands. “What are we going to do to her? Harm her? Assault her?” Rose isn’t asking out of concern- she is just curious. “ I say let’s mess with her… torture her… She has put you through too much.” Rose smiles.
“That’s when I knew I was totally in love with her. Not when we made love for the first time, not when our daughter was born, but when she wanted to do demented things to my ex-wife as a source of pleasure. Rose was right about everything, I wanted to hurt Rena, and I was on board with whatever Rose wanted to do. She was in control, and I found it very appetizing.
“Rose gathered the camera and some tools from the garage while I dragged Rena’s chair to our Red Room. It was a nice little setup that we had going- there was a queen sized bed in the middle of the room, a wall of whips and chains and all sorts of other toys. Rena was still out cold when I began to untie her from the chair. The bedposts that leather handcuffs wrapped around them, but I didn’t think they would be strong enough to hold Rena down, so I had cut the rope into four sections then tied up her hands and ankles. Rose had returned to the room right when I was finished. Together, the couple sets up their camera equipment to face the bed their victim is lying on.
Rena was starting to regain consciousness when we had started laying out our torture devices. The saw had to be on the far left side of our play table, furthest away from Rena, because it would be the very last trinket Rose and I would use on her. Screwdrivers, needles, hammers, and pliers took up most of the surface and were easy to access. Rena screamed when she realized what Rose and I were about to do to her. Rather than panic, Rose crawled over and got on top of Rena, pressed her finger to Rena’s lips, then whispered in her ear. -I never found out what she had said to Rena, but that’s always been okay with me. Anyways, back to the story-What Rose did next excited me like no other- she licked Rena’s cheek and forced herself onto her.”
The Wests finish their initial attack, Rena’s bruising chest rises and falls in long, heavy segments in an attempt to calm down. Fred doesn’t want to stop. He reaches over to the play table and grips a pair of pliers. “I want you to suffer worse than what you made me suffer.” First, Rose stuffs Rena’s mouth with a washcloth, then Fred yanks one of her hands towards him then begins to inflict wicked pain onto Rena. “One little piggy went to the market,” Fred rips off a fingernail. Rena squirms, muffled screams fill the rather quiet room. “One piggy stayed home.” Another fingernail is gone.
“Hold on baby, let me turn the camera back on,” Rose removes herself from her position above their victim and presses the ‘on’ button. “And we are rolling!” She giggles. Fred smiles at his beautifully psychotic fiancee. She climbs back onto the bed, “Do you hear that? We will be able to watch every second once we are done with you. Isn’t that hot?” Rena manages to yelp some words of profanity before Rosemary shoves the cloth back in.
Tears stream down from Rena’s eyes, but the Wests don’t care. They feel no empathy for her. Fred continues to rip out her fingernails, then goes on to the toes. She eventually stops feeling the pain, so the couple decides to move on to another technique. “Sweetie, do you mind grabbing your sewing kit from the toy table?” Rosemary nods her head, then carefully lifts a tiny pillow with a couple dozen needles sticking out.
Fred plucks out the most elegant pin, where a lovely diamond makes up the head. “A pretty prick for a pretty prick of a lady,” Fred jabs the pin into Rena’s left eye. She lets out a skin-crawling scream, blood oozing out from her eyeball. “What a wonderful sound!” Fred grabs Rosemary’s waist and waltzes around the room. The couple kiss in a warm embrace as a form of celebration in their success of causing unbearable agony to Rena. She is suffering too much to care about whatever her disgusting attackers are doing to each other. They mess around with Fred’s ex-wife a little more, and they decide to stop when they became bored of hearing her screech.
“Once we were finished torturing Rena, I strangled her and crushed her esophagus to make sure that she was dead. From this point on, it was my job to take care of the bodies since Rosemary couldn’t bring herself to chop the girls up. It was too gory for her. So I dismembered Rena in the bathtub while our little girls were asleep, removed her fingers, toes, and kneecaps, then put parts of her body in numerous Waitrose sacks. I hauled the bags off in the same night and buried Rena under Yewtree Coppice at Letterbox Field. The cops already found her, though. That’s how they caught me. Hahahaha. Thank you for listening, Janet. I can tell you about the other girls tomorrow. Sound good?”
Fred West’s appropriate adult nods, finishing her notes over their session. Janet stands up, shakes Fred’s hand, and collects her notebooks and pens. “You have a nice New Year's Eve, okay?”
Fred grins. “You know what, I will. You too. Get back to your family safely, Janet Leach.” She smiles then hurries out of the room, no longer wanting to speak to a serial rapist and killer. Fred makes his way back to his cell with two officers escorting him. “A new year tomorrow. How exciting.” Fred laughs to himself.
“Keep your mouth shut,” a guard grunts at him. Fred wiggles his head and giggles lightly. “Shove it!” Fred stops, but the giant smile on his face does not fade away. Once they are back to his cell, Fred lays down on his horrible, piss-stained mattress and waits for lights to go out. “Bedtime!” the same guard yells just as the prison goes dark.
This is my chance. I’ll wait until midnight so I can see what 1995 is going to feel like. Fred waits another two hours. Lights go out at 10 every night, and Rosemary snuck a watch in for Fred when she brought him a cake. “Happy New Year!” he chants right at midnight, in an attempt to distract his cellmates. Most start to holler back within a few seconds, others shout “shut up” and some are just silent. With all of the commotion, Fred takes his chance. He creates a noose with his bed sheet, climbs up on his sink, then ties the rest of the sheet to a pipe on the ceiling. This is it. Fred slips his head through the noose, takes a deep breath, then leaps out off of sink…






© Copyright 2017 fashionfaithful13 (19thomast at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2137156-The-Private-Red-Room