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I wrote this many moons ago, but am just now archiving it.

Waiting in the Dark

by Anne

Toby waited in the dark quietly breathing; thoughts of revenge and hatred floating through his mind. They had been the only things that kept him going during those long months in the hospital. Revenge. A dish best eaten cold. And all Toby could feel was cold. Cold, hard hatred. Betrayed, but not by his mortal enemy.

Toby had expected as much from Vern. He had fucked up Vern's parole and he knew payback was coming. Just didn't couldn't predict when or how. Too fucking bleary-eyed from the booze. Well, booze had been his downfall once before, why not a second go-round? But this time Toby learned his lesson. Never again would he put anything in his body that would dull his senses. Not in this fucking hell hole.

It took all his concentration to keep his breathing even. He would need it when his prey arrived. Didn't want to give himself away. Wanted it to be unexpected. Surprise! Happy fucking revenge day!

When Toby had woken up in the hospital, he had felt every kind of hurt - in his legs, in his arms, but mostly in his heart. But that hurt turned quickly to rage; a living beast inside of him. One that wanted to be avenged and today was the day.

Metzger had been easy. Shit, the idiot even made it easy. Pulling Beecher into an area where no one could see. Never imagined Beecher would have the balls to attack; didn't consider the lethal weapon Toby carried on the tips of his fingers. Watching Metzger choke and bleed to death had filled Toby with a feeling of satisfaction; of justice served. Toby reveled in the kill in a way he never thought himself capable of. It was fucking euphoric.

The door to the copy room squeaked open and finally his prey appeared. He turned the lights on and Toby slunk back in the shadows. He watched his prey stacking copy paper. Bending, lifting and stacking like some kind of ritual. Chris. The first man he had ever fallen in love with. The first one to reject him in the most publicly humiliating way ever imagined. The first to break Toby's body after he had broken his heart.

A flash of memory and Toby saw himself that day in the laundry room. He had been so happy to find Chris because he was ready to admit his feelings; to declare his love. He was finally ready to shed the veneer of aloofness he'd been sporting for weeks. The weeks Chris had spent slowly stripping away all the layers of protection he'd built around himself after Schillinger.

He had acted like a schoolgirl with a crush that day when he and Chris first kissed; smiling and flirting. He shook his head in disgust. It was all based on a fucking lie. Chris had peeled him open and then ripped his heart out. And now there was nothing left but cold hatred. Chris' apologies and declarations of love since Toby had returned were nothing but a new mind game. Well, this time, Toby wasn't falling for it.

Toby shifted his leg and make a small scraping sound with his foot. The sound echoed quietly through the small room.

Chris stopped in mid-motion, quickly reaching overhead to turn off the lights and looked around the room, his radar on alert. He grabbed a package of copying paper looking ahead into the darkness. ``Yo! Well if you're coming motherfucker, come on and bring it!'' he shouted into the darkness, his arms and body bracing for attack.

That was when the adrenaline rush kicked in, flooding through Toby like a drug. Chris' voice, challenging him. Okay, cocksucker, you asked for it. The blood rushed into his arms, his legs, his head, his cock.

Like a feral cat, he pounced quickly from behind, wrapping his arm hard around Chris' neck and chest and then plunging the shank swiftly into his back. So swiftly, so painfully, so devastatingly debilitating that Chris was sliding down to the floor seconds later. Toby held the shank, twisted it. He felt Chris' hand trying to grab hold of it and then Toby pulled it out.

He could taste metal taste in his mouth as he attacked and he wondered where it came from. His heart was beating hard in his chest and he felt his cock straining against his pants. This is for manipulating me into loving you; for rejecting me after I openly gave you my heart; for breaking me when I was at my weakest point.

He felt the blood throbbing behind his eyes; felt the hatred, anger, humiliation eating through him like poison. It was corrosive and bitter and at that single moment in time, Toby wanted Chris dead.

Toby left the room before Chris thought to turn and look at him. He wrapped the bloody shank in a napkin and shoved it in his pocket. He walked calmly back to his pod and washed his hands and the shank, then hid it. He flushed the bloody napkin.

Toby stood at the mirror and rubbed his face, running his hand over the beard he had grown in the hospital while waiting; waiting for his revenge. His adrenaline rush over, Toby waited for that feeling of euphoria that had come after killing Metzger but... nothing. He thought about Chris lying there, bleeding, maybe even dying and he felt nothing.

Schillinger was next, he thought, and it was going to be the sweetest of all. Always save the best for last.


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