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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.
end
Please send feedback to Anne.
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