The Grudge
By Tagsit
Chapter 1 - The Alley.
He'd been standing in the freezing rain in this alley that smelled like piss for hours now and he was so fucking cold that he thought he might never be fully warm again. All night it had been spitting rain off and on, the temperature hovering just above freezing. The shoulders of his jacket were soaked through and the ice cold water from the puddles in the alley had long ago seeped into his sneakers. About an hour earlier he'd decided that winters in Pittsburgh really sucked, but at this point he would actually be glad if the sleet would finally get it over with and just turn into snow already. God, he was cold.
The young man looked at his watch for about the hundredth time in the past hour. By the dim glow from a distant street light he saw that it was just after eight o'clock. Thank God - it was finally almost time. With luck he'd be out of here soon. His mission would be accomplished and he could go back to his dismal but slightly warmer apartment.
The tall youth huddled closer to the ragged brick wall, trying to stay under the shallow arch of the doorway where he'd stationed himself. He'd scoped out this place earlier that morning and was fairly happy with the location. From this vantage point he could avoid the worst of the sleet raining down on him and yet still have a pretty decent view of the dance club's entrance on the far side of Liberty Avenue.
The huge, two-story tall, blue neon signs proclaiming the club's name - Babylon - shown out unhindered through the hazy, rainy night. The hordes of people that had been flocking through the doors of the club, and who had even lined up around the block despite the rain, had dwindled now. There were only a few stragglers left, all hurrying down the street and flowing through the doors as fast as they could move. He could hear loud music starting now, the bass reverberating through the very walls of the building and pouring out through the doors and down the street.
He was fairly certain the blond was still inside. He'd watched the man enter the building along with several of the other organizers of the evening's festivities about six-thirty. He'd been watching the entrance carefully ever since just to make sure that his target hadn't left. This little party just wouldn't be complete without the blond.
That was Hobbs' whole purpose for this evening after all - revenge on Justin Taylor.
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It had been almost as cold that night more than four years ago when Chris Hobbs had first visited Liberty Avenue. Back then it had all been just for fun, though. A carefree evening with his buddies and their dates. Shit - his whole life back then had been 'carefree'.
He didn't remember whose suggestion it had been to head down to Liberty Avenue that Friday night to check out all the 'freaks'. He didn't really want to go, but everyone else seemed so enthusiastic about the idea and he didn't want to stand out by objecting to the plan. He was the captain of the football team after all - he had an image to uphold. He didn't want to seem like he was afraid of a bunch of queers, right?
But inside he WAS afraid. Not of the fags. Hobbs was afraid of himself.
It had been months since that 'incident' with Taylor out in the equipment shed, but he still couldn't get the experience out of his mind. What the fuck had he been thinking? He still didn't understand how he could have let things go so far.
They'd been working and talking. It was really hot inside that shed that afternoon and both boys had taken off their jackets, unbuttoned their shirts and pulled their ties loose. But they were both hot and sweaty by the time they were through anyway. Taylor had offered to get him a soda, which they shared while they rested. He'd been bragging to Taylor about the chicks he'd been with - the same bullshit he talked about every day with any of the guys, right?
But that's when things went very, very wrong. Somehow, he found Taylor's hand down his pants, grabbing and stroking his dick with expert fingers and the next thing he knew, he'd shot his load into Taylor's hand. How the fuck did that happen? It all seemed to happen so fast. He didn't really have a chance to think about the consequences until long after it was all over. Taylor was jumping up, wiping his jizz off on a towel and backing away as soon as the teacher strode into the room to check on their progress. He never even got a chance to say a word to Taylor after that - the blond just escaped as quickly as he could, leaving Hobbs reeling and alone after the unexpected experience.
Fine. Whatever. Shit happens, right? But that was months earlier and Hobbs just wanted to move on and forget it. He didn't want to think about it or dream about it or fantasize about it anymore. He wanted to just erase the memory from his brain. Unfortunately, the harder he consciously tried not to think about Taylor, the more persistent and confusing the dreams became. It was getting more than just annoying at this point.
And when his buddies suggested they head down to Liberty Avenue, he didn't dare object. He was terrified they'd see through his facade and somehow know his confusion. He was afraid he'd no longer be able to hide. That somehow, they'd know that he was one of those freaks now, too.
But he'd gone along with the idea anyway, putting on a bold face and joking along with the rest of the guys. He'd grabbed one of the cheerleader groupies who had tagged along, wrapping his arm around her to bolster his non-existent self-confidence. As they rambled down the street, laughing at all the queens in drag and making fun of the fairies, Hobbs managed to quell his own fears by groping and kissing the nameless cheerleader babe. It seemed like it was going to be okay, too - everyone looked like they were buying his act.
Until, that is, that little fucker Taylor had turned up out of the blue and ruined his life completely.
Looking back now, he could easily see that that was the moment his life had irrevocably turned to shit. Before then, he'd been happy, respected by his peers, with a promising future ahead of him. But from the moment Taylor had opened his big fucking mouth and spitefully blabbed to the entire world about that goddamned hand job, his life had begun to crumble away. Now, he had lost it all. And, the only thing that was still keeping him going was his desire to finally get his revenge on Taylor.
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The street was practically deserted now. The only people in sight were two women hurrying around the far corner of the building. He looked at his watch again and a huge grin spread across his thin lips. Eight-fifteen. It was time. Time for Taylor, Taylor's smug, rich boyfriend and all the rest of the fucking queers down here to get what was coming to them. Time for payback. His life had been ruined by these people, now it was time that they felt a little of the pain, too.
He felt the bricks in the building behind him shake for a brief moment before he heard the actual sound of the explosion. The blast itself was short but far louder than he'd expected. All the glass in the windows of every building nearby shattered at the same time as a result of the shockwave that followed. He ducked and tried to shield his face from the flying glass shards as every car alarm within blocks went off simultaneously.
When he finally looked up again, there was smoke billowing out through the doors of the building across the street. The eye catching red and black banner advertising 'Stop Prop 14 - Benefit Tonight' that had been hoisted over the doorway had become detached and was now slowly sliding down, drifting and twisting in the gusts of rain. Except for the howling car alarms, though, it was almost peaceful for a few seconds.
Then the pandemonium broke out. People began to boil out through the doors of the building, their faces and clothing blackened by smoke. They were wailing, screaming, shouting, crying. From down the street and behind him, other people were now running towards the club to find out the cause of the disturbance, the newcomers blocking the path of the ones trying to get out of the building. He could hear the fire alarms going off from inside the building now as well. The people piling out through the exits huddled in confused groups on the sidewalks around the building, some shouting for missing loved ones and others just silently quaking where they stood in the cold rain.
Hobbs stayed where he was, watching the chaos around him unfold with a nasty grin on his face. However, as more and more people exited the building he became a little disappointed. He'd thought the blast and the resulting fire would have been bigger. He saw a lot of smoke but no flames and far too many people were simply walking out of the building looking scared but unharmed. All in all, it was kind of a let down - in his imagination he'd seen towering flames, bodies burnt to cinders and the building reduced to rubble.
The fucking Internet - you couldn't trust anything you read there. After all the trouble he'd gone to, stealing the explosives from the construction job site he'd worked at and then preparing the bomb according to the instructions he'd found on the web, and then this pathetic little blast was all he got. It was hardly worth all the effort. Considering how many people were just walking away, he wasn't even sure that he'd got Taylor. So much for the perfect opportunity for revenge.
And, so much for finally getting to leave and go back to his dry apartment. Now he'd have to stay and watch some more and see if Taylor was one of the lucky ones walking out alive. He had to know if he'd finally succeeded this time. It would be just his luck if Taylor managed to somehow survive again. Hobbs had failed to stop him before - this time he really hoped Taylor would be gone and out of his life for good.
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Most of the emergency lights had failed for some unknown reason so it was dark inside except for the dim glow of a few exit signs and the illumination from a couple areas where there were still small fires burning. Luckily the sprinkler system had worked pretty well, which meant that most of the fires started by the explosion had been quenched almost immediately. That's the only thing that prevented this night from being even more of a disaster than it might have been.
Justin had been far enough away from the source of the blast that he hadn't been hurt. He'd only sustained a few cuts from flying debris. He was dazed and frightened, as was everyone else around him. But, instead of stampeding towards the exits with the others, Justin stayed inside to see if there was anyone he could help.
He moved towards the far end of the bar - or at least where the end of the bar used to be - where the destruction looked worst. There was an older man bent over another person who was lying on the ground. As Justin neared he could see the figure on the floor was a woman who was sitting up holding onto her right arm in obvious pain. Justin helped the man get the woman onto her feet and supported her as they hobbled together towards a side exit. As soon as he was sure they'd make it out okay, he turned back again to find someone else to help.
It wasn't long before emergency personnel - fire fighters and police - began to file inside the building, helping to direct people towards exits, using fire extinguishers on the remaining pockets of flames and running to the rescue of those hurt too badly to leave under their own power. Their flashlights were finally providing some small amount of light - enough so that Justin could now see where he was walking. He'd just found another victim huddled behind a pile of tables that had been blown over, and had led an EMT over to see to the man, when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.
Brian. Brian was here and now Justin knew that everything would somehow be alright. The tall, frantic brunet seized onto Justin and pulled him tightly to his chest.
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Brian had almost panicked when Jennifer had told him Justin was still inside. The destruction was so horrible - there was a bloody shoe, there he saw a man's body caught in the railing of the collapsed catwalk, and there was another body draped with a white sheet - he immediately imagined the worst. Thankfully, he didn't have to go far before he saw a familiar shock of blond hair, still recognizable even under the soot. Brian yelled, "Justin". The blond pushed aside a sparking electrical wire, sidestepped a pile of debris and ran to his lover's waiting arms.
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Most of the people from inside the building had left. There was still a large group of the gawking curious, but the police had corralled them off to the side behind strings of fluorescent yellow 'Police Tape'. The ambulances carrying the wounded had roared off a long time ago, but there were still an inordinate number of emergency vehicles parked all around the building, blocking the view. Even so, Hobbs had stayed, waiting and watching as best he could to see if he could determine what had happened to Taylor.
When the fire fighters had started packing up their trucks, preparing to depart, Hobbs thought he'd finally leave. But, before he'd taken five steps away from his doorway perch, he'd caught a glimpse of that fucker Kinney navigating his way through the trucks and groups of police, moving towards the front entry. The man was disheveled but clearly unhurt.
"Damn!" Hobbs couldn't help but feel discouraged that the boyfriend had somehow escaped unharmed.
Hobbs' hatred for the tall, handsome brunet was almost as great as the enmity that he held for Taylor. It had been Kinney, after all, who had wielded the bat that broke his knee and crushed his hopes of ever playing college, let alone professional, football. But, in his mind, Kinney was just another byproduct of the horrors heaped into his life by Taylor. Taylor was still the primary cause of everything bad, everything wrong with his life. Kinney was just another of the tools the conniving blond had used to ruin him.
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The guys had pestered him relentlessly for weeks following the disastrous trip to Liberty Avenue. The joking had started off friendly enough but once the word spread beyond his friends and those who'd been with him that night, the jokes turned decidedly mean. Not a day went by without somebody asking Hobbs about his 'boyfriend' - Did he give head too or just hand jobs? Did he ever let Hobbs 'top'? - it was a fucking nightmare.
He'd steadfastly maintained that Taylor was a liar. He'd beat the crap out of at least two guys who just wouldn't let up. He'd also instituted an unceasing campaign of harassment aimed at Taylor that should have broken him. But that little fuck just wouldn't back down, no matter what. Taylor refused to take back the accusation about Hobbs, so Hobbs continued to bully him.
Initially, the harassment against Taylor was meant mostly as a way to defend Hobbs' reputation. Yeah, he'd always kidded the guy a bit but everybody teased Taylor - he was so open about his lifestyle, it was just too easy. There wasn't really any malice in it though, at least not on Chris' part. But, the longer the jokes went on and the more intransigent Taylor became, the more Hobbs started to truly hate the stubborn blond. Didn't he see how much he was fucking up Chris' life? If he wanted to advertise that he was a faggot, fine, but did Taylor have to taint his life too? After a while, hate was all Chris felt towards the other boy
Eventually the joking died down, though, and Hobbs thought his life might be getting back to normal. School was almost out and he'd already been accepted to Arizona State on a partial football scholarship. His plan was to get out of Pittsburgh, away from Taylor and all the unpleasant memories as fast as possible. All he had to do was make it through graduation and then he'd be able to start fresh somewhere far away.
But Taylor managed to fuck up that plan the night of Prom.
Hobbs had been sitting with his date at a table when Kinney strolled into the room. Chris recognized him right away from that night on Liberty. He watched in utter disbelief as the older man walked right up to Taylor and then, in front of the entire school, began to dance with the gloating blond.
The final straw came when Hobbs was standing, watching dumbstruck with the rest of the prom attendees, as the handsome couple twirled gracefully around the dance floor. That's when Paul came up behind him and whispered, "looks like your boyfriend's cheating on you, Hobbs." The comment was accompanied by a nasty chuckle and the sound of the laughter raised the hackles on the back of Hobbs' neck instantly.
There was an almost audible snap as it all hit him at once. That's when he knew that it would never end. At least not as long as Taylor was still around. Taylor was going to have to die.
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The stocky former athlete was brought out of his revery when he saw a shorter man wearing a paramedic's jacket move up to Kinney. The two men fell into a passionate embrace which ended with a heated kiss. And, even though he was pretty far away and the jacket had thrown him off at first, Hobbs could tell exactly who it was that Kinney was kissing.
Taylor. Shit, it was Taylor - the white blond hair was a dead give away. Somehow the little fuck had again evaded his fate.
Hobbs stood there watching the two men and quietly seething. He couldn't believe that all this had been for nothing after all. Months of effort, months of planning and Taylor just walked away. Again.
It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fucking fair that his life was shit and Taylor was still walking around perfectly fine. Taylor still had a life, a future, a boyfriend. Hobbs had lost all those because of Taylor. Taylor should have to pay. Taylor owed Hobbs a life.
The two men stood together, touching, kissing, talking, for quite a long time while emergency personnel and vehicles continued to swarm around them and the still smoldering dance club. All Hobbs could do was stand in the alley and watch in helpless, impotent rage. Every time the men kissed, his anger spiked higher. By the time the two started to move apart, Hobbs felt so enraged that he could barely hold all the emotion inside. His vision seemed clouded by hazy waves of shimmering hate and his ears were ringing. He felt like his body was on autopilot while his mind went into anger-driven overload.
As they separated, the two men across the street headed in opposite directions. Kinney moved purposefully towards the building's entrance where he struck up a conversation with another, older man wearing a vest bearing the word 'Police' emblazoned across the back. The younger blond walked off down the street and around the far corner of the building alone. Hobbs automatically followed the retreating form, his feet moving even as his brain was still paralyzed.
'He owes me. He should pay. He owes me. He should pay'
The words echoed over and over again inside his mind as he followed behind the oblivious blond. His feet just kept walking though, block after block, trailing behind as Taylor headed further away from Liberty Avenue. When Hobbs finally halted long enough to look around him, he noted that they'd moved away from the river and were now in a seedier neighborhood comprised mainly of warehouses and run down old office buildings. There were few street lights here - the surrounding blackness somehow seeming to make the night sky darker and the icy rain colder. They'd long since left the areas of town where there were any other pedestrians around.
At long last Taylor approached the rear of a delapidated, dingy red brick building, it's sides covered with the soot and grime of decades and which appeared at first glance to be vacant. Hobbs watched from across the street as the young artist climbed the steps next to a rickety old loading dock area and pulled open an almost hidden side door, disappearing inside. The surrounding streets were deserted.
Hobbs hesitated only a moment before following up the loading dock stairs. The little side door wasn't locked so he let himself in and listened intently to the sound of Taylor's footsteps slapping against the risers as he tiredly climbed the stairs. Hobbs followed silently, a new plan forming as he climbed the stairs in the lonely and practically uninhabited building.
Yes. Oh, yes. It was definitely time for Taylor to pay for what he'd done.
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