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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.