--WARNING!!!: This chapter contains VERY offensive language. Read at your own will, ok? Rated M for violence and language. No flames 'cause I warned ya. It's bad folks. Real bad. But don't hate me, ok?--

10

Joey's Lament

Dean's first assumption was Joey had been taken by George. If only Fate had been so merciful.

Joey walked out of the Forum and into the parking lot, heading to the back where his car was. He was reaching in his pocket for the keys when something unbearably hard struck his face. He fell hard, vision blurred, mouth filled with blood. He looked around, white lights dancing in front of his eyes.

"You're gonna get it now, Faggot." Icy fear jolted through him, clogging his throat. He saw the others crowding around him, and he knew what was coming before it did. He braced himself. A barrage of boots struck his body, the baseball bat that had originally hit him joining in the mix. He cried out, shrinking into himself and away from them. He grunted and coughed, yelping in pain and trying to plead to stop. Tommy grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his face up.

"You ready to die, Cocksucker?" He hissed, breath hot on Joey's face. He whimpered. He heard the ripping of tape and seconds later his arms were yanked behind his back and bound together. Another piece was slapped over his mouth.

"Get 'im the truck." He was hauled up and tossed mercilessly into the bed of one of their trucks.

His breath came rapidly, heart pounding, fearful tears in his eyes. The truck started and pulled away from the high school. His hopes of being found faded as the parking lot lights got dimmer and dimmer and winked out one by one. A tear slipped down his cheek. He was going to die tonight.

They drove him out in the middle of nowhere, gravel road crunching under the tires and throwing up rocks. He was heaved out and dropped, landing hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He coughed, sending dust flying into his face. He was yanked up viciously, a fist holding his hair, jutting his face forward. Tommy ripped the duck tape from his mouth, making him yelp.

"I wanna hear him scream." He said, grinning.

"Please," He breathed. "Please, don't do this."

"Shut up, Faggot." His fist came down hard across his face. He grunted, his head thrown sideways. Tommy stepped back, looked around at his comrades, and nodded.

They were on him instantly. They weren't hitting him, they were ripping his clothes off of him.

"No! No, no, no, please! Please…please don't!" He was writhing and squirming in his captor's grips, holding back tears.

When they stepped back he was naked and trying desperately not to cry. Somehow they managed to get him tied to a wooden post on the side of the road. He looked around at them, feeling humiliated and trembling.

That's when it started to rain. Thick, heavy drops falling fast and soaking him in seconds. The faces before him turned blurry and hooded.

"Please, please, I haven't done anything to you, please." He whimpered, huddling himself together.

"You bein' alive is enough."

They took turns beating him. Throwing punches, spitting on him, and the constant slurs. Their hateful words and laughter filled his ears. He felt bruises form on his face, cuts from their rings. Water ran in his eyes and down his body, running over wounds.

He cried, cried hard. He begged, desperately. He screamed, he tried everything. Nothing would stay their hands, nothing would silence them. He'd be happier if they would just leave him here.

His split lip dripped blood down his chin, even more blood trickling past his lips. The bruises were dark and deep. He trembled in the cold night air, turning his face up to the rain.

"God, please help me!"

One of the dozen boys grabbed his face and forced him to look at him.

"God hates fags like you. You're gettin' what you deserve, you little cocksucker."

Another boy stepped forward with something in his hand. A soft click told Joey what it was. He saw the light from their headlights glinting off the blade that was coming closer and closer to him. But that wasn't what scared him the most. What scared him was the person holding it.

"C-Cal?" He choked. Calvin glowered at him, pressing the blade against his cheek. Joey swallowed a sob. "Cal, please, help me."

"Why the hell would I help you?" He whispered, his mouth next to his ear. "You think you meant something to me? You think I actually cared about you? No, no you were just something for me to play with until I got bored."

Joey felt his heart twist, adding to the agony his body was enduring. He shut his eyes, unable to tell the difference between raindrops and tears.

"Please, Cal. Please help. Please, don't do this to me, please." He begged. The knife bit into the skin on his chest. He screamed, looking at Calvin with pleading eyes.

"Why the hell would I help you? I'm gonna cut you up. You disgusting queer." The blade sliced across his body with no mercy, tearing his skin. He screamed and cried so hard his ribs hurt terribly. When Calvin backed away all he could do was shake and whimper. Tommy walked toward him and he shrunk away, turning his face from the boy.

"What is it you want, Faggot?" He asked, grinning coldly. "Huh? What do you want?" Joey gasped and sobbed hard when Tommy's hand grabbed something too personal.

"No! No, please, let me go please, god please, let me go." He gulped, body tense. Tommy's grin broadened. This wasn't about sex; this was about power, control, and humiliation. And God was it working.

"Is this what you want? You want boys to play with you?" He asked maliciously. Joey shook his head violently. Tommy hit his jaw with unbearable force. "Don't lie to me, Cocksucker. Do you want boys to play with you?"

"Yes." Joey winced, what was left of his pride and dignity shattering. Tommy laughed.

"You want me to play with you?" He asked. Joey shook his head.

"N-no. No, I don't want it. Please, let me go," He sobbed. Tommy squeezed. Joey screamed. "AHHHH! PLEASE! Please, let go, please, for God's sake let me go!" It was a good two minutes of him screaming and begging and crying before Tommy obliged.

He took shuddering breaths, keeping his eyes closed and trying not to listen to the laughing crowd and their jeers.

"You're nothing but a filthy, disgusting, cock sucking faggot. Even God hates you. And you're gonna die here. Fucking Faggot!" Tommy spat in his face. Joey whimpered and bit his lip. The others took their last shots, each spitting in his face or touching his groin, in some cases both.

Each of them sent slanders his way.

"Fag!"

"Queer!"

"Cocksucker!"

"Like it up the ass, don't ya?"

The tape on his bloodied wrists was undone and he fell; first to his knees, then flat on his face. He tried to push himself up, fingers digging into the sopping soil underneath him. A knee in the middle of his back shoved him back down. His arms were wrenched behind his back and bound again, tighter than before. He sobbed without shame, turning his face toward his shoulder, away from the lights, away from them.

Tommy knelt down next to him and once again grabbed him by the hair. Fabric was shoved into his mouth and more duck tape covered it to silence him.

"We're gonna leave you here to die, Faggot. If the rain don't kill you by morning then a truck that can't see you will. The second you see headlights you best believe your dead."

Tommy slammed his face into the mud and rock and walked away.

"Have fun in Hell, Cocksucker!"

The engines started. The lights faded to complete darkness. When the last sound of their trucks died away Joey wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frightened. His cries were muffled by the gag. He recognized what they had shoved in his mouth, now. A piece of his boxers.

He curled into a ball, sobbing as the freezing rain pounded against him.

He didn't know how much time passed. Just that it was long, very long. He saw headlights on the hill, coming straight for him. He shut his eyes and he knew. He knew that within seconds he would be dead.

--Told ya so. Poor thing :( That's the reality of it though, huh? Plz review if u dont hate me :)--