"It's Corey…" said an unclear, raspy voice. There was a lot of background noise, and he was talking too quietly for Brian to hear much of what he was saying. "Last gift… I have to… revenge… Andy… get what… deserves… get out of my head, I know what to say! Brian… sorry… goodb—"
The line cut off before he managed to finish. Brian stared at his phone, unsure of what he just heard. It sounded like Corey was just saying every few words of what he was thinking, except for that one almost clear part in the middle. Was he talking to himself?!
Brian started, Christine coming back down the stairs. "I know it's a scary movie, Brian, but we haven't even started it yet," she joked, making her way to the kitchen to get the popcorn that finished cooking.
When she eased herself into his arms, Brian couldn't help but forget about the disturbing phone call. He'd wanted this too long to spoil the opportunity now. Corey always used to do this shit; he's just trying to get to me. Brian talked with him for sure by now. What am I worried about?
--
"It's already dark," Andy noted, checking his watch, looking out of the windows of the Starbucks, clouds dimming the sun ahead of time. "Just like old times, huh?"
"For better or for worse," Garret joked, escorting Andy to his car. "We may not have worked out, but I don't think I could have asked for a better friend."
"Why do you always sound like you're trying to win me over?" Andy asked accusingly. There was no malice in his words, though.
"Can't blame a guy for trying," he admitted, opening his car door for him. "I'll see you later. Thanks for hanging out."
Andy pulled out of the parking lot, a slow drizzle starting; a small smile unable to leave his face. Everything is falling into place… Life is good...
He got out of his car, loving the feel of the light water droplets hitting his face. My lips are still tingling from that kiss… He laughed to himself, opening the door. Not that I'll ever admit that to anyone.
Like usual, Lima Bean started to bark as he stepped in. He pet his head for a second, that was always enough to keep him quiet. "Hey Mom, Dad, Corey, I'm going to turn in early tonight, I'm beat," he called, waiting for acknowledgement.
-
"Don't you want something to eat?" His mother's voice called, over the dull noise of the television in the living room.
"No, I got something to eat before I got here," he explained, heading up the stairs into his room. Everything was too good that day, Andy practically skipping down the hallway towards his room.
He opened the door, flipping on the light switch. Something hard him in the side of his head, and he crumpled into someone's arms, consciousness fading in an instant.
--
!WARNING!
The following contains rape (nonconsensual sex), torture, slash (duh), blood, drug use and explicit violence.
Corey waited patiently in the bushes of the Taylor residence, checking off a mental checklist for the thousandth time. Everything is set… As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon and there was darkness to conceal him, he popped out, lugging a portable extendable ladder behind him into their backyard. Deftly, he worked the ladder, extending it to the only window which didn't have other windows below it, so that the ladder would remain more or less unseen.
A light drizzle started, and he cursed his luck, hoping that he wouldn't screw up everything by slipping on a stupid ladder now. He pulled out a rotary glass cutter from his pack, climbing steadily up the slippery ladder. 'Figures,' he thought, a simple tug on the window proving that it was unlocked. He climbed in, making sure to close the window behind him, and he took a careful look around.
'This is a master bedroom…' he noted, darting towards the door to try his luck with the other rooms upstairs. The room next to it proved to be more promising, with plainer furniture, and a backpack on the floor that Corey recognized to be Andy's. He quickly pulled off his damp black clothes and gloves, pulling a half filled liquor bottle and other goodies from his bag, waiting patiently in Andy's computer chair, downing the bottle to burn some time.
He didn't have to wait long, Andy's voice downstairs audible, and before Corey knew it, he heard the sound of feet traipsing towards the currently closed door. The second Andy turned on the light, Corey swung the bottle at his head as hard as thought was necessary, knocking his fellow quarterback unconscious. Corey managed to catch Andy before he fell, laughing at how easy this whole affair was turning out to be.
The alcohol was finally starting to sink into his system, and Corey managed to drag Andy to his bed. He got a special syringe he set out on Andy's desk, squeezing out any air -
before inelegantly stabbing the needle into Andy's neck, emptying the contents into his bloodstream. He threw the needle in a random direction, quickly going to work. He didn't hit Andy that hard; he was bound to wake up soon.
--
Andy's eyes fluttered open, someone none too gently slapping him on his cheek to get him to wake up. His vision was blurry from a throbbing headache. His first instinct was to attempt to cradle his head, but to his horror, none of his limbs were choosing to cooperate with him. His vision steadily cleared, his head was propped up against a pillow, the only light in the room from his bedside lamp.
"Wakey-wakey!" An overly chipper voice said, its owner still slapping him on the cheek to rouse him faster.
He tried to yell when he saw Corey's face looming over his, but there was some kind of cloth wrapped tightly around his mouth, effectively gagging him. He darted his eyes downwards, and he had the awful realization that they were both naked.
"Comfy?" Corey asked sardonically, playing with a gleaming knife in his hand. He lifted one of Andy's limbs, watching it drop like a dead weight. "I guess that muscle relaxant is working. Expensive stuff, you wouldn't believe what I had to pay to get it so quickly. You can't move, but it's not an anesthetic…"
He demonstrated his point, dragging the blade lightly along Andy's skin, not hard enough to pierce. He just wanted to scare him for now. There was plenty of time for that later.
Andy shivered involuntarily as the cool edge slid across his skin. He wanted to close his eyes and block it out, but his eyes were glued to the knife, watching it go wherever Corey decided to glide it.
"Whoops," Corey said, the knife accidentally nicking some of Andy's skin, his coordination skills dampened by the alcohol. "Oh well, that's cut number one."
Andy flinched more from the implied promise of more cuts in the future than from that minor nick in his skin. Corey laid flush against him, ready to put the next part of his plan into action.
"Mmm… poor Andy," Corey crooned, forcing Andy's eyes to meet his, his hands feeling up Andy's arms and chest, feigning sensuality. Andy's eyes showed little more than fear, his heart already racing, the realization of what he was about to endure along with the inability to move overwhelming his nerves. "It's just like you to be worrying about yourself at a time like this…" he whispered into his ear, nibbling along Andy's earlobe softly.
-
"You know…" Corey said lazily, amusing himself by prodding Andy softly in random places with his knife. "Murder is kind of a funny thing. No, no, don't get scared on me, I'm not going to kill you. You'll wish you were dead, sure, but then again, we don't always get what we wish for."
Corey stared off to his side, his eyes unfocused. "Yeah, yeah, I know, get on with it. How about you shut up, I'll do this my way."
Andy screwed his eyes in confusion, not sure who Corey was talking to.
"Some people can be so rude, but I think he'll leave us alone for the rest of the night," Corey continued, resting his head on Andy's chest, still gently prodding Andy's skin with the knife, chuckling each time it made a puncture. "As I was saying... murder. It's hard the first time you do it, you hesitate, doubt your own ability, but the rush of power you get when you see her fall… it's bliss. Each person after that gets easier and easier… it's almost like a drug."
"You must be wondering what I'm talking a
bout. Mm… I made a few stops on the way to your house, between picking up all the supplies I needed for our festivities tonight. I figure, why just crush Andy? Why not make his entire world crumble around him, just like you made mine?"
Corey put the knife down, making a show of counting his fingers. "Let's see… one, Christine… she was the noisiest, she had to go first. Two, Brian, he was with her, I wasn't sorry to see him finally leave me alone. I took a little detour, to the Summers residence. I guess Garret got lucky for now… he wasn't home. But I can take care of that later." Corey was having a giggling fit, thoroughly amused by the terrified look in Andy's eyes. "Three, four, Lee and Helga out the door. Five, six, seven, your mother, father, brother off to heaven. They really should watch what they eat, you know."
Andy's mind was reeling, trying to struggle against his invisible bonds, but his limbs were still totally unresponsive. No… he has to be lying. They can't be dead… But how else would he know that Garret wasn't home… he was with me… no…
Whatever other thoughts Andy had left to think were torn from his psyche, replaced with excruciating pain. Corey got up slightly, sitting on Andy's stomach, and methodically started to make cuts, long, and deep across Andy's chest. Cut, after cut, Andy unable to move, unable to scream, each cut forcing him to remain conscious, a fresh flow of tears each time the knife bit into him.
!!CENSORED!!
Corey roared loudly as he came to completion, beyond caring if anyone could hear him. The damage was done. All of his agony, his rage, and his hatred were poured into his final orgasmic scream.
-
Andy saw his chance, and took the time that Corey was distracted by orgasm to grab the knife that currently lay unused at his bedside table, instinctively driving its edge down through Corey's stomach with all of his dwindling strength. He screamed through his gag, and only partially because the gravity of what he had just done sunk in. The knife sliced clean through Corey's body, and the force of the blow sent him and the protruding edge down onto Andy, the remainder of the blade fastening the pair together.
Andy's mind was going blank; the edges of his vision were darkening, from the pain, blood loss, and the bittersweet realization that he had just killed them both. His friends and family were dead. There was no more hope. What am I holding on to? He could feel their blood pooling and intermingling between them. Corey lay limp on top of Andy, Corey's head beside his. You can't feel pain when you're dead.
"I'm sorry," Corey whispered after an extended silence, his eyes already losing focus, a faint line of blood dribbling out of his mouth. The voice momentarily kept Andy conscious, the painful irony of the simple words filling him with hatred that he didn't know he was capable of feeling. Andy's arms laid limp at his side, the remainder of his energy spent.
A weak, soulless, empty laugh left Corey's lips, interrupted by a short coughing fit. "Those words don't change anything, they never do. I came here wanting to break you, mentally, physically, emotionally, totally. Then, and only then would I be able to take my own life in peace. You were stealing him away from me, little by little. My light, the only reason I wanted to live. I did this knowing that Brian would hate me for it, and that's the way it has to be. I don't want to be alive without his love, and I don't want him to miss me when I'm dead. But it took me until now to realize that it wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't anyone's fault."
"I lied. They're all alive, untouched," Corey muttered after another silence, feeling Andy twitch below him with renewed hope. Gritting against the pain, he clumsily removed the blade, using his remaining strength to stab it into the pillow beside them. Corey was well aware that he might enough time to save himself, but there was no more point. "Take care of him. I swear to God, if you hurt him, I'll find a way, you'll all die, each and every single one of you. Your world will burn, even if It means dragging every single person close to you down to hell with me. You'll be the last to go. Then you might finally see how I feel."
With the knife removed, his blood was flowing freely, his breaths getting more labored and staggered, interjected by fluid filled coughs. "My blood, my seed. I'm a part of you now. I'll always be there to take care of him, to love him, through you. Who said guardians always have to be angels?"
If Corey had any more to say, Andy didn't hear it. The darkness around his vision finally closed around him, finally giving him the solace of oblivion. They're alive…
Corey Towers was dead.
--
Brian woke up early the next morning, remembering the call he got. He couldn't have been serious about that… Just to ease his nerves, he called Andy. He waited patiently, but Andy didn't answer. He sighed, trying Andy's house number this time.
"Taylor residence, Chandra speaking," a cheerful voice answered, half settling Brian's nerves.
"Would it be okay if I could hang out with Andy this morning?"
"Don't see why not, dear, but the poor boy is still asleep, if you can believe it. I didn't have the heart to wake him up; he deserves a rest, after what he did for that boy's parents."
"That's alright, I'll wake him up. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Brian moved with an urgency that he kept trying to tell himself was unnecessary. When I get there, then me and Andy can have a laugh over this. Maybe Mrs. T will even make us some breakfast.
He pulled into their driveway, ringing the doorbell gently, barely squeezing out a "good morning" before zipping up the stairs, to Andy's room. He breathed, not really knowing why he was feeling so strangely, and he knocked, calling Andy's name. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, calling Andy's name with a little bit more strain in his voice.
"Andy…?" He whispered, holding his breath as he opened the door. He didn't know what caused him to convulse first, the awful smell, or the macabre scene from hell splayed out before him. Before he knew it, all thoughts of appetite deserted him, the contents of his stomach greeting him from the floor.
"Brian, is that you? Are you okay?" Mrs. Taylor's voice called from downstairs, hearing Brian retch violently.
Brian didn't waste his effort to answer, instead pulling out his phone with shaky hands, calling 911. He gave them the details of the location and incident, not really sure if "assault" covered what he saw before him, but the moment he hung up, he did the next reasonable thing in his mind, and he called Christine, telling her only what she needed to know.
"Don't go anywhere, I'll be right there. Brian… don't forget to call Brian."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Brian snapped awake as his cell phone rang, snatching it, praying that it was Corey. He grumbled angrily when he read his phone. Brian…?
"What do you want, Brian?"
"Brian… you have to come. Andy's house… Corey…" Brian stuttered out. He was almost afraid to have to be one to bear this news to Brian; he would have to see it for himself.
Brian snapped his phone shut, a terrible panic coursing through him. He didn't need to hear any more. Andy's house!? Corey… what did you do…
--
A red Lexus careened into the suburban neighborhood, Brian flooring the brake pedal when he saw the ambulance parked outside of a house he'd never been in before. He got out of the car, running towards the house, towards the door, praying hysterically that there had to be a misunderstanding, that this was an elaborate joke, something.
He didn't even make it to the door before a pair of paramedics busted out, hauling what appeared to be Andy in a stretcher, a sheet drenched in blood all that was covering him.
"Please get out of the way, sir," one of them blustered out, sidestepping around the flabbergasted teenager.
Brian couldn't process what he was seeing. Andy was unconscious, and the only thing Brian could see was how pale he looked. Almost like a vampire. "Is he alive?" He asked suddenly, walking quickly to keep up with the paramedics.
"For now, but we have to get him to a hospital. Who are you?"
"A friend. Was there… anyone else… with him?"
> Brian's question was answered, and replaced with a thousand more, when the paramedic was no longer able to make eye contact with him, choosing to busy himself with getting Andy set up in the ambulance. Brian turned around towards the house expectantly, and the first thing he saw was another pair of paramedics, carrying a large black bag between them. The pieces clicked in his head, and Brian's legs were threatening to fall out from underneath him. There was no more light. All Brian could see was darkness.
--
Brian opened his eyes, irritated at first by the bright fluorescent lights shining in his face. Sleep was tugging on his eyelids, and he wanted nothing more than to fall back in its embrace.
"Brian, are you awake?"
The voice triggered Brian's memory, and he shot up from the bed that he was in. He looked around, bewildered.
"Am I in a hospital? I don't remember, what happened?" He asked, still a bit dazed. The forlorn look on Christine's face triggered another flow of memories, and he could do little else but steady his own head when he realized the magnitude of what had occurred. "Corey…" he whispered. "Christine, where's Andy?"
"You haven't been asleep for that long, I can take you to where he is, but he's probably still in the emergency room. The doctors can't make any promises, Brian. He lost a lot of blood before he got here. Brian's probably still waiting outside of the emergency room."
Brian got up, shaking the dizziness away, and gestured for Christine to lead him there. He remained silent for the walk, and both of them stopped when they reached the corridor where Brian was waiting.
Brian was aimlessly pacing up and down the otherwise unoccupied hall, babbling incoherently at himself. His hands were waving frantically, and his voice escalated sometimes, as if he were having an argument with someone in front of him. He stopped sometimes to just rock back and forth on his feet, as if in thought, before resuming his pacing and self conversation. He paused once more, glancing towards the observing pair, and a second passed before recognition hit, and Brian flinched visibly, seeing Brian standing there.
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