Monroeville Rage Room Novels & Stories

“Breathe, son. It seems this beating has done a lot more damage than I expected.” My yelps quiet into soft whimpers as I come to my senses. “I’m sorry.” He remains quiet, using a simple hand gesture to guide the way to a large open room. I take my time observing it as I have never seen such a room before. “This is a rage room. We don’t normally do exams or meetings in this room but it would seem you have a lot to get off your chest. I think it’s time you open up to what’s going on over there. It’s not just your brother being abused.”

She asked curiously, praying this won't have anything to do with the Montero's. Unfortunately for her, it's everything that has to do with the Montero's. “You need to check the Celebrity room live right now!” Jace exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency. “What's going on?” Angela asked, her voice groggy, heart racing even harder. Whatever that made Jace burst into her room this early morning, looking like that won't be good news. “What is it, Jace?” She asked again. Jace said nothing, he just handed her his phone, the screen displaying a live stream news bold headline:

For six months I renovated the condo where my fiancé and I were supposed to begin our married life. Grant said he was buried in a project. My brother said he was always traveling. My best friend said something had come up at home. Not one of them had time to lend a hand. The night before I moved in, they covered my eyes and told me someone I would never guess had come back to warm the place for me. The door opened, and there was Serena Cole, a childhood friend I hadn’t seen in years, wearing my slippers and rushing at me with a smile. “Surprised?” I was. Until she said, offhand, “These past few days I couldn’t have managed without Grant helping me pick a mattress, Owen carrying my bags,

After leaving the KSLCC building, Knight didn't go straight home. He put on his sunglasses and changed into the leather jacket that he usually kept in his car. He drove to a place he had been to before when he was having problems with his fiancée. The Rage Room. At first glance, it looked like just a run-down warehouse. It was quiet outside and deserted. He honked his horn, signaling for the roll-up gate to open. He immediately drove his car inside. He was greeted by a dimly lit area filled with graffiti. Only small lights provided illumination in the wide space.

Afraid that Mom would sense something was off, I skipped dinner and retreated to my room. I opened a streaming app and clicked into a room raising money for a baby with a cleft lips and palate. On the screen, a couple was performing in a dilapidated room. After seven hours of streaming, they'd only collected 1,200 dollars. The comments section was a cesspool of trolls. "Have the mom put on some stockings and do a suggestive dance. I'll send a gift then!"

Four months later … “He’s up next!” Aunt Shelly screamed in my ear. I didn’t need her to tell me because I’d been waiting for it. I’d counted down each fight waiting to see Rage. The New Orleans arena was huge compared to the one at home. We’d been waiting for this match since Rage started fighting at the gym.

By the time Jace drags me into the war room, my rage list is three pages long, and my hand cramps. The “war room” is technically just another office off the main hall—smaller than Kael’s, cluttered with monitors, maps, and enough wires to strangle an entire boy band. It smells like coffee, stress, and the faint ozone of overheated electronics. Screens line one wall: city maps, financial charts, grainy camera feeds, a paused frame of my face under stage lights.

"Where am I?" "You are in the Moon Shadow pack, Link. My name is Nicole Stone and the Alpha is my son, Jayson Stone. You came here two days ago and you attacked two people who are both currently in critical condition," she replied. "What? No. I'd never attack another person. You're lying to me. Tell me you're lying?" I panicked. I had never killed a person in my life unless they attacked me first and I had certainly never been one for going round, randomly attacking people for the fun of being able to do it.

Eyes widening, I begin to follow him out of the room and into the living room, where the final rogue stands, baring its teeth. “Stay back.” Maverick says, holding up an arm to stop me from going closer. “But it needs to bite me.” I counter, ducking beneath his makeshift shield and moving forward. Gritting my teeth, I hold out my arm and wait as the rogue lounges toward me, and when its teeth wrap around my skin, I want to scream. “That’s enough!” Maverick snarls when the rogue continues to hold onto me. Reaching out, he grabs it by the scruff of its neck and pulls, yanking the rogue free and throwing it across the room and into Uncle William’s TV.

I was impressed. Something else caught my eye-an electric winch. It was very similar to the one I used at the local garage to remove the Mustang's engine. What the hell did Monroe use it for? I shook my head slightly and continued looking around. A large black leather mat rested prominently on the floor in the center of the room. Comfortable-looking couches surrounded the area. The women entered without talking and stood to the side. "Nessia, have you done your warm-up?" Monroe asked.