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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Divine Punishment - 11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Yes, drama. Life without it is nothing but a collection of colorful, but somewhat uninvolving events. Comedy is all fine and dandy, but one doesn’t get to appreciate the true complexity of life without experiencing the more dramatic side of things.
And it appeared as if Zach had brought even more drama into my life. And why the hell not? Undead former nemesis turned pet ghost, a maniac out to get me in an “Indiana Jones, I shall suck the life out of you” kind of way and a love life that was quickly falling apart. Yes, why not something refreshing, like other people’s family drama?

I do believe that we left off at the part where Justin’s dad was cursing up a storm. I’m gonna take a wild guess and assume that there’s either some East-European, French or Italian blood in him, cause they’re the only ones who can swear with such…passion.

I reluctantly made my way back into the kitchen and nearly broke my neck slipping in the puddle of coffee now decorating the floor. Shards of precious china were all over the place as well and I immediately thought of Justin’s grandma rolling in her grave, at the thought of what her beloved set had endured. That’s what happens when your son, who inherited everything, is a lunatic lacking in self-control. Speaking of Mr. Crazy, he was on his feet, towering over everyone, even as he stood a bit hunched over the island, his hands outstretched on the marble surface, supporting his weight.

“Just who the fuck are you and why did you just kiss my son? My NORMAL son! Wait, nevermind, just get the hell out of my sight before I break out the guns.” Spoke the lunatic.

“Dad, where are your manners?” Gabe asked, as cool and level-headed as I’d ever seen him. “Justin’s not the only one with a special friend over this weekend…” he trailed off and peered over to me and my heart froze as Mr. Hutchins’ cold eyes settled on me. I stupidly waved at him, while trying my darnedest not to cry like a little bitch. I felt a wave of confidence and reassurance hit me and it felt as if steel had slipped into my blood stream and given me new resolve. Thank God for Terry.

“This is Zach…My boyfriend.” Gabe continued.

“Your…boyfriend.” Mr. Hutchins spoke in soft monotone, but it was the most menacing voice I’d ever heard at that moment.

“Indeed. I love skinny guys.” At this, Zach ran his hands over his upper body in quite a sensual manner, then giggled like a school girl and kissed Gabe again, full on the lips. I think there was even some tongue wrestling going on. Boy, Zach is really into acting, I thought. I exchanged a glance with Justin, and it seemed he was caught somewhere between dread and the urge to laugh hysterically.

Mr. Hutchins’ hands closed into tight fists and I was afraid he’d draw blood by digging his fingernails into his palms. He closed his eyes and took in a couple of large breaths. He spoke through clenched teeth, without opening his eyes. “Den. Family discussion. Now!” He then turned on his heel and stalked off. The four of us exchanged worried looks and decided to follow. “FAMILY! You two fuckers stay there.” Mr. Hutchins screamed at Zach and me. We sat and watched the two brothers walk slowly out of the room. It made me think of a pair of knights heading into the dragon’s lair, never to be heard from again.

“Terry and I can take him.” I whispered after them. “Holler if you need us.”

“Terry?” Zach asked as soon as we were alone.

“Yeah, my guardian ghost, which I use to manipulate the elements.” I said nonchalantly.

“Oh. Cool. D’you think there’s any beer in the fridge?” He didn’t wait for an answer, choosing to simply go and check. I just shook my head. This had been such a monumentally stupid idea. What if their dad kicks both of ‘em out? Or takes it out only on Justin?

“It was their plan, Xander. Gabe wanted to confront the issue and come to a solution. He needed to show his dad that he’s on Justin’s side and there’s no middle ground. Regardless of the outcome, they’ll have reached an understanding – strive to make it work or part ways. But at least something will have been resolved.”

“Christ. Part ways? It’s not a business partnership. It’s not even a marriage. It’s the relationship between parent and child. It’s not supposed to be like that.”

Terry shrugged. “Hate to speak in clichés, but the world ain’t just, it ain’t pretty and few things actually work like they should. Including relationships. It’s life.”

“Well, life sucks sometimes.”

“I hear ya, little dude.” Zach said, sipping from his can of Heineken.

I eyed him and his attire for a few seconds. “Beer? I thought you were dedicated to this role. Why beer? Aren’t gay guys supposed to be against beer and all about appletinis and shit?”

“I dunno. Are they?” I crunched up my nose in disgust. “Ah, not a big drinker? Well, anyway, I’m a method actor. And my character might be queer, but he’s the beer-drinking, basketball-playing type of queer. The more complex the character, the more authentic the performance, because you have more to work with. Besides, shouldn’t you be fighting stereotypes?”

“How do you know I’m gay?”

“Well, Gabe called you Justin’s special friend, so…”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“I’m not, you know.”

“Queer?”

“No, Justin’s…special friend. I guess we’re both playing a part this weekend.”

“Bah. At least I’m playing against type. It’s way too easy for you.”

“Hey, hey! It’s not easy playing Justin’s love interest. I’m in a committed relationship, I’ll have you know! Err…at least I think I am.”

“You think?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Complicated…” I waved a hand dismissively, hoping to move past the subject of Jordan.

“Speaking of which…” said Terry as the doorbell rang again.

“I swear to God, if it’s another one of ya, I’m gonna do something you’ll regret!” roared Mr. Hutchins.

I ran to the door, cracked it open and came face to face with Jordan. My breath caught for a second and I was glued to the spot until he spoke. “Can I come in?” he asked.

“Well, who the fuck is it?” screamed Mr. Hutchins again.

“Bible salesman.” I replied.

“How appropriate. We might need a few.”

“They’re in Polish!” I yelled as I slipped out the door and closed it behind me. “What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?”

“There are certain advantages to being the nephew of the richest man in five counties when it comes to getting addresses. That and plain old detective work. I went to your place and your sister informed me that you weren’t home. By the way, do you know she has a pentagram painted on her bedroom floor, under the carpet? Anyway, I figured you guys took Ryan home last night. I checked and, sure enough, you did. His grandma said something about inviting you over for whiskey. So, I thought that maybe you spent the night with Justin and his brother.”

“Well, good work, Inspector Gadget.” I was suddenly pissed. All of the shock upon seeing him had, at first, given way to elation, pure pleasure and thoughts of hugging him so tightly that we’d blend into one person. But that immediately turned into anger. The asshole had left without a word. A simple hi and his beautiful smile would not be enough to win me over again. Sure, I had kept a secret from him, but he had basically told me to do so. Only for him to run away when that secret finally came out and turned out to be a bit more than he could handle. Then again, it WAS far more than most people could handle. What right did I have to expect him to embrace everything so easily? It was irrational to ever hope he would. But then, that’s love, isn’t it? Logic and rationality lapses abound. Sigh. I held out my hand, palm out. “Sorry. I’m just a little pissed, you know?”

Jordan bowed his head and spoke so softly I had to strain my ears to hear him. “I shouldn’t have done that. Just drive away like that. Christ, you or the guys might’ve been hurt. Not to mention that it was generally a shitty thing for a boyfriend to do. But…I was shocked and scared and…well, a part of me thought Willis had messed me up so badly I was hallucinating.”

I shuddered at the memory of Jordan hanging limply as Willis hit him repeatedly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I freaked you out. I’m sorry I did what I did. But seeing you like that…It scared me. And it angered me beyond words. All I knew right then and there was that you were in pain and in danger. It was…instinctive. I’m sorry I scared you. And most of all, I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“You didn’t lie. You just…omitted stuff.”

“Same difference.”

“No. Especially not when I told you not to share everything with me until you’re ready. And I can definitely see why you didn’t feel ready at the time. Damn, when you talked about life-threatening secrets, I thought you were kidding, but this…this is…” He raised both hands towards the sky and then let them drop by his side, in helplessness. “It’s…something else.”

“So..where does that leave us?” I asked, frightened of what his answer might be, but even more terrified of dragging this out.

Jordan took my hands in his, stared into my eyes and then brought his lips down to meet mine. To say that I was in Heaven would be understating things. I was turning into jell-o in his arms, melting in the heat of the emotion and love expressed in that kiss. When we separated, both of us were breathing raggedly, but even if that were the last breath I’d ever drawn, it would have been worth it, because that kiss, that joining was more than a gesture of affection. It spoke everything that needed to be said and expressed a promise for the future from both of us. At that moment, on the front stairs of the Hutchins residence, wherein a bigot was shouting loudly and possibly tearing his family apart, Jordan and I were closer to each other than ever before and the bond we’d forged was not something easily describable to mere mortals.

“Christ, that was intense!” Terry exclaimed.

“You felt that?” Jordan asked me. “That was…”

“Yeah…”

“What the hell just happened?” Terry asked.

“I have no idea. But something big, I’m sure. Christopher said that emotions have a huge influence on the link between us and the way I use your energy. We really need to pay him a visit.”

“Christopher?” Jordan enquired, puzzled.

“Umm…He’s like Obi-Wan. Only gay. Well, gayer.”

Jordan seemed to want more details about Christopher. Hell, about everything else as well, I’m sure, but he brushed away any questions he might have had. “Plenty of time to fill me in on everything. But now, I have a present for you.” He reached behind him and pulled out what looked like a small magazine that had been rolled up and stuffed into his back pocket. He unfurled it and handed it over, revealing the unmistakable colors of a comic book. I took it and stared at it for a few good seconds.

“The Young Avengers?” I asked, perplexed. “Err, thanks? But I don’t get it.”

“That’s you.” He said, gesturing toward the cover showing a group of teenaged superheroes. I guess the bewilderment was still evident on his face, because he continued. “You’re Wiccan.”

“Am not! I have a rocky relationship with God, but I’m pretty sure I’m Christian!”

“No. Dammit, Xander, sometimes you can be so thick!” Jordan tried to sound annoyed, but his huge smile gave him away. “It’s the character’s name. He was originally called Asgardian, but…Well, he’s a gay teen. Not really the best name for him, you know?”

“Ass…Gua…Oh, gotcha! He’s a gay teen superhero?” I was actually intrigued.

“Yep. And in a relationship with a teammate! And he’s a warlock, just like you.”

“I’m not a warlock. At least, I don’t think I am. I’m still not clear on how these things actually work.”

“Whatever. The point is, you’re a lot like him.”

“So, now you want me to be a superhero too? You and Justin will have to start a fanclub.”

“As long as I’m your biggest fan.” He said, pulling me in for another quick kiss.

“Always…” I thought about it for a few seconds. “Well, after this weekend. I’m…sorta playing Justin’s boyfriend right now.”

“Damn, you move fast on the rebound.”

I slapped his chest playfully. “Cut it out. I’d never be able to move on from you so easily. Not to mention that I hadn’t given up hope. It’s just…Well, fuck, it’s complicated and even I don’t really understand what’s happening, but I guess this whole weekend is supposed to be a sensitivity crash course for Justin’s dad. Gabe’s roommate’s here, playing his role as Gabe’s lover. And I…well, I was in the right place, at the right time.”

Jordan pondered my words for a few moments and weighed his response. “Well, as long as it’s for the greater good, I guess I can let Justin have you for a couple of days.”

“AHA! I knew it! You’d peddle my ass on a street corner if the price was right.”

“I thought we’d already established that.” He grinned. “But seriously, now. I was hoping we could spend some time together. We have A LOT to talk about, I should think…” I nodded vigorous approval. “But we also need some…quality time, yes?” I nodded such hearty agreement that it’s a miracle my neck didn’t snap. Jordan laughed with gusto and kissed me again. The boy knew just how to handle me. “However, I think helping Justin is a nice thing to do. And you’re a nice guy, after all. I wouldn’t expect any differently from you…”

“Well, hang on. If their family talk has gone well, then I might not be needed.” I poked my head in the house again.

“…two! A laughing stock!” came from the living room.

“Hmm. I think I’ll stick around.” I said, biting my lower lip.

“Okay. Listen, I now we agreed that this can wait, but…just tell me one thing. Are vampires real?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“You wanted me to lie?”

“Well, no, but you could’ve been less…blunt.”

“Big baby!” I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down for a fresh kiss. God, I just wanted to keep going until I sucked his lungs out. Alas, he needed them to breathe and live and stuff, so we separated…eventually.

“Call me if you need anything. Call me if you don’t. Just…call me, okay? And tomorrow night…your ass is mine!”

“Beeehave!” I replied, in my lame Austin Powers imitation.

“Always wanted to get it on with a superhero.” This last statement hung in the air along with that deliciously mischievous grin of his as he walked down the paved driveway to the street, where his car was parked. I was beaming as I walked back into the house. Couldn’t help myself. I had Jordan. I had him more now than I had before, if that even makes sense. I was ecstatic.

“YOU! Den. Now!” came Mr. Hutchins’ growl from beside me. I almost jumped out of my skin. Was I so excited that I didn’t notice a friggin mountain moving to my side? Ah, what the hell? I wouldn’t let him ruin my mood.

“Lead the way.” I said with a flourish of my hand. I think his response could have been interpreted as “I’ll stick that hand up your ass!”, but I’d need a snarl-to-English dictionary to make sure of that.

I followed him into the den, where everything was rich wood and leather, including the long couch on which Justin sat meekly on one end, with Gabe, arms folded over his chest in defiance, in the middle, and Zach – head swiveling from one corner of the room to the next, some new shiny thing capturing his focus every other second – completing the tableau. It all felt…off somehow. Most of the house was modern, if not state-of-the-art. This would-be study lacked authenticity, for lack of a better word. There were two wing back chairs on each side of the fireplace, facing the couch. I sat in the one closest to Justin, trying to give him some sense of comfort and reassurance.

“Here’s the deal.” Mr. Hutchins started. “I hate this whole thing. And, quite frankly, I hate you.” He addressed Zach and me. At this, Zach’s head snapped forward and his eyes locked unto Justin’s dad, a curious expression on his face. “I’d love nothing more than to hurt you. Badly.”

“Now that’s not very logical at all. I see what you meant, Gabe.” Zach said, nodding sagely.

Mr. Hutchins gnashed his teeth loudly, either in frustration or as an attempt to calm his murderous impulses. “Yes, well…The boys and I talked it over and I’m at least going to try…REALLY try to…live with this. I’m willing to let the four of you spend the weekend here, as planned. And I’ll be sticking around, despite my gut telling me not to, because I want this to work. I don’t want to lose both my sons.” Gabe cleared his throat loudly and his dad exhaled noisily and put up an appeasing hand. “Yes, yes…I don’t want to lose ANY of my sons. I’m…not an easy man to get along with. I’m a stubborn mule and set in my ways. Your mother…she was good at…well, moderating me, I suppose.” His voice trembled a bit as he spoke of his wife, but he quickly recovered. “But regardless of everything I’ve done and said, and everything that’s been left unspoken and opportunities I’ve missed with you boys…I DO love you. I just haven’t been all that good at showing it. Especially with you, Justin. And, regardless of your choices…love is love. And it’s a beautiful thing.”

Justin only dared glance up towards his father, who had been standing all this time, for a fleeting second, before averting his teary eyes. Mr. Hutchins grunted, burying his chin in his chest. He tried to speak again, but words must have failed him. He squeezed Justin’s shoulder and then left the room, leaving an astonished audience behind him.

“What the hell did you say to him?” I asked Gabe and Justin.

“Told him in no uncertain terms that there’s no compromise to be made when one side doesn’t want to give way at all. He needs to open his mind or lose us both. I didn’t think I’d gotten through to him. Seems he’s more concerned about what others think about him if they find out. But then…”

“Yeah?”

“Err, he glanced out the window…”

“And…” I pressed.

“Well, who was out there?”

“Jordan and me. Wait…”

“Yup. Right before you came in, he peered out the window, saw Jordan and said ‘That’s Williamson’s nephew! And…he’s queer too!’. So, I guess he realized that he’s not the only one having to deal with ‘this kind of problem’, as he put it. I don’t think he’ll be joining PFLAG anytime soon, but…he’s gonna try.”

“God help us all.” I concluded.

And so, we embarked on a whirlwind of adventure and fun, all in the interest of enlightening a narrow-minded man. There were roller-coasters and various other carnival rides, stuffed unicorns and cotton candy…Ah, I’m just messin’ with ya. We actually just hung around the house. It occurred to me that while Gabe did manage to accomplish part of his plan, getting his dad to at least try, he hadn’t thought things out too well. There was a general sense of awkwardness hanging thick among us all. Sure, Justin and I cuddled together, watching TV, while his dad nervously chewed his fingernails in the recliner beside us, and we even kissed a couple of times, while Gabe clumsily tried to make out with Zach. Zach was…well, Zach. I don’t get artists. I suppose I should’ve seen it coming, what with my mom acting all trippy 24/7 and all, but I thought maybe actors are different. Then again, maybe Zach was just high, rather than a weirdo. He kept spacing out and adding to any conversation by stating random facts. Mainly to do with old movies.

By the time my phone rang at around 5 PM, I was aching for some Jordan. “Thank God!” I said, when I saw his name flash on the screen. I scurried off into a bathroom, so as to not be overheard. “Hey, lover boy!” I said, hoping to get a little phone action going.

“He’s dead!” he basically shouted in my ear. He sounded angry and scared.

“Whoa! Settle down. What are you talking about?”

“Who killed him? Was it a vampire?”

“Vampires? Kill who? Jordan, you’re freaking me out!”

“YOU’re freaking out? YOU? Turn on the TV. Channel 5, now.”

I rushed back to join the others and flipped through the channels until I came across the familiar reporter. Trisha Johannsen was on the scene again. A single-storey gray house surrounded by yellow tape, uniformed officers and a bunch of curious on-lookers, many sporting horrified expressions.

“I know that house…”Terry said, suddenly appearing at my side. “That’s…”

“…Mr. Willis is a coach at Washington High, where his son attended.” Lovely intrepid reporter Trisha was saying. “So far, we have been unable to get a statement from him, but we will be ready with updates, especially as the hunt for the beast continues.” The scene cut back to the studio, where the anchor promptly recapped the story. Apparently, a wild animal had broken into the home of coach Willis, where young Henry was alone. The “beast”, as it was dubbed, for lack of a proper name, as the animal was still unidentified, then proceeded to maul Henry, who was left in several pieces all around the house.

“That’s Henry Willis! Henry’s dead?!” Justin exclaimed, on his feet by now. He turned his wide eyes to me, as did Gabe.

“Xander? Xander, babe! You there?” I realized I still had the phone to my ear. I cleared my throat before speaking.

“Yeah. Umm…”

“This isn’t a coincidence, is it?” Jordan asked, fear plain to hear in his tone of voice. “He attacks us, he attacks YOU, and then he ends up dead? I know I don’t need to ask, but…”

“No, it wasn’t Terry.” I answered quickly, but my eyes flickered up to meet Terry’s, in order to make sure. He shook his head in the negative.

“Xander…”Jordan started.

“But you’re right. This isn’t a coincidence. Where are you?”

“Home.”

“Who else is there?”

“No one. I’m kinda scared, Xander.”

“Get in your car and drive here as fast as you can, but be careful. If something’s out there…”

“Got it. I love you. Be there soon.”

“I love you too, Jordan. Stay safe.”

As I hung up, Justin’s dad jumped to his feet and got in my face. Well, my face got in his abdomen. “What was that? Who’s this Jordan you love? I thought you were with Justin. What’s going on here?”

“Dad…” Gabe started, placing a conciliatory hand on his father’s arm.

“No, Gabe. This smells fishy to me. This Xander kid, and your boyfriend…”

“Mr. Hutchins, I need you to stop talking right now.” I said.

“Listen, you little…”

“Shut the fuck up!” I roared and pushed him back in his chair with so much force that he toppled over backward. “Whoa! Didn’t know I could do that.”

“Learn something new each day.” Terry said.

“Xander, what the hell? He’s my dad!” Justin said, glaring at me, as he moved to help his father up.

“We’re in danger. Whatever happened to Willis, it was because of me.”

“You did that?”

“No. But it HAS to be connected. People don’t just get butchered by mysterious wild animals like that. Especially considering the circumstances.”

“So what, then?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t know. We need to…” and then time stopped. I could feel my heart drumming, but it was the only sign I was alive. It was the only sign that life altogether was still going. I could smell, taste and feel the very fiber of existence on my skin. Air vibrated around me and slowly, but steadily, I became aware of everything that was happening around me. First the room, with the 4 slow beats emanating from my companions, then the house, with the ants in the basement and the rats in the attic. And then, the coldness at the doorstep. That sickly sensation of rot. Everything putrid, slimy and sheer evil, rolled into one sensation – death.

Then, as suddenly as it had stopped, time accelerated, yet my heart beat strangely remained steady. I closed my fists and felt the power course through me. And the front door exploded, sending shards flying every each way. Whatever the “beast” was, it was here.

Copyright © 2011 ghostofoldtrafford; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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