An Eye for an Eye

An Eye for an Eye

Disclaimer: This story and its characters are all original.

A/N: Credits and kudos belong to Benkenshin for coming up with the plotline. This is my first attempt at an original story and all criticism and/or reviews would be greatly appreciated!

lll

Prologue

He was half asleep when he heard them in the hallway; the whispered voices he had learned to hate and fear more than anything else in this place. By the time Brian was fully awake, it was too late. A calloused hand, smelling of stale cigarettes and God knows what else, clamped hard over his mouth preventing from making a noise.

Brian forced his body to go limp even though he wanted desperately to fight back. He’d learned the hard way that his struggles only seemed to arouse his attackers. When he was calm and still and forced himself to relax as much as possible, the pain from his forthcoming sodomy would be lessened. Even so, it wasn’t enough. In all the times he had been violated, not one of the men who took him ever thought of using any kind of lubricant other than spit. Because of that, his anus was almost always torn wide open and blood made the forced penetration easier.

Luckily, there were only two of them tonight. There had been times when they had numbered four or more. In those early days when he was a naïve newcomer here, Brian screamed for help, thinking that someone, anyone would see what was wrong.

But no one ever did.

Everyone within hearing distance seemed to bury themselves in whatever they were doing and pretend not to see or hear. To silence his cries, the ones who were waiting for their turn at his ass solved the problem by shoving themselves deep into his mouth while one stood watch at the door, ready to cause a distraction if needed against a curious inmate or a guard coming to see what was the matter.

“Mine,” a harsh voice growled behind him. “All mine.”

Brian tried not to cringe when he felt a warm mouth press against the nape of his neck. He heard the quickened breathing of his cellmate against his ear.

“Does my pretty one want to play?”

Brian mumbled an assent as he knew he should. Satisfying any man on top of him in every way was always a good idea; Brian knew from experience that if he wanted to sit down again, he should do or say whatever they wanted. As he felt hard fingers pry his buttocks apart, Brian bit down hard into his pillow in preparation for the pain. The grimy ticking of the fabric absorbed his tears.

Brian counted each thrust as a way of passing the time. He had just counted to thirty and he felt the heavy body of the brute on top of him shudder and the man groaned, reaching his climax and spilling his seed into Brian’s body. He heard a grunt and felt the second man take position behind him. It wasn’t long before the painful thrusting began again.

He hated them and what they were doing, but in his heart, he didn’t blame them. They only acted with the survival instinct common among all those in the same situation. Beaten and brutalized in body and spirit by the guards, it was only a matter of time before the most decent law abiding man turned into an animal in this awful place. In order to survive, the strong preyed upon the weak.

No, the person he blamed the most was Detective Max Granger.

The rape and murder of a city councilman’s daughter was a high profile case; it was over all the television and newspapers. Even the governor was involved. Pressure was mounting to find her murderer. And fast.

The police department turned to their best detective, Max Granger. He was a twenty-year veteran and close to retirement when the Police Commissioner himself personally asked for his involvement. Granger agreed and was assigned as the lead detective. He was a good cop and had had several high-profile cases under his belt already but he had severely underestimated the pressure his department would be under to solve the girl’s murder. Desperate for the mayor and governor to get off his back and his life return to normal, Granger made the crime fit the evidence instead of the other way around.

Brian had been the neighbourhood, but the only crime he was guilty of was robbing a convenience store less than a block away from where the body of the dying, ravaged girl was found. Brian was fingered as the perpetrator. Case closed. Later, Brian read that Granger had received a commendation for his efforts in solving the case so quickly.

His trial was a sham. Brian couldn’t afford a good defence lawyer, and even though a lot of the reputable ones did pro bono work often, not one of them wanted to have their name forever remembered as the one who took his case. His court-appointed public defender was a new graduate of law school. He was as competent and thorough as he knew how to be, but the prosecution used his inexperience against him and tore his defence to shreds.

When the trial was over, the jury deliberated only one hour before passing a verdict of guilty.

Brian had served two years of a fifteen year prison sentence when the real killer was caught. When he received notice of his release, Brian waited for some kind of apology or explanation but none came.

Each time he was handed around from his cellmate to his friends as favours, the desire for retribution against the cop that put him here consumed him. Flesh and cigarettes passed for currency here. Brian lived, breathed, ate and shit nothing but hatred. It took over his life and consumed his every waking moment. One way or another, Max Granger would pay.

lll

The grapevine for information in this place came and went through a lifer known only as Smith. If you wanted information, you went to him.

“You wanted to see me, kid?” The older man asked, sitting down next to Brian at his lunch table. He looked away when he saw Brian wince as he sat down. No surprise there, considering what had happened to the poor boy the night before.

“I need some information on someone on the outside,” Brian said.

“Who?”

“The cop who put me here. Granger.”

Smith snorted. “Quite a few cells in this place are full because of him. What would you like to know?”

“What ever you can give me. Where he lives, what he is doing now, his schedule—everything.”

“What d’you have in mind for him?”

“When I get out, I’m gonna kill him, that’s what.”

“No. Death is too easy. It’s over too quick and leaves you feeling empty inside. What you wanna do is make him suffer and suffer bad.”

“How?”

“He was divorced not long ago. His new wife is fifteen years younger than he is and quite the babe from what I heard.”

Brian nodded and a speculative look came into his eyes. “A knockout, huh? That will make it all the more fun. Whatever info you can give me, I’ll pay you for. I don’t have much, though.”

“I don’t need money, I’m not gonna live long enough to spend it anyway.” He glanced down when he felt Brian’s left hand on his thigh. He sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the boy—but he had been through enough the night before and Smith didn’t want to cause him more pain. “No kid, not that either.”

“Then what?” Brian frowned. He had serviced Smith before for small favours and didn’t mind—the older man had been gentle and considerate with him and never hurt him in any way. “If you’re worried about hurting me, don’t be. You preferred getting a blow anyway.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Brian asked.

“Maybe another time, not now. What are you going to do for money?”

“I’ve got an idea or two.”

“Care to tell me?”

Brian did. As he spoke, he did not notice the sad look that came across Smith’s face. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“What else can I do? I don’t have anyone left on the outside. No friends, no family that I can get money from. You know I’m good at it and I'm sure someone will pay for my talent. So how much do you want for the info?”

“I told you—nothing. No, I take that back. This will be my fee: go to a bar, have a beer, and think of me.” A fit of hard coughing hit Smith and it was a few minutes before he had the wind to speak.

“Will do,” Brian said with a small smile but it didn’t last long as he looked at the haggard and drawn face of his companion. “How long do you have?”

“Dunno. Two packs of smokes every day since I came in here, nearly thirty years ago has finally caught up with me. Damn.”

“Maybe I’ll fuck his wife in front of him before I kill her. Yeah, I can do that. Make that bastard watch as I pound into her pussy. Make him listen to her scream and be as helpless as I was when I first came here. Does he have any kids?”

Smith contemplated the fierce young face of the man in front of him then decided that he might as well know everything. “Yeah. He has a six year old daughter from his first marriage.”

Brian smiled. Granger had a daughter, did he? A grin spread across his face as the perfect idea on how to get to the cop came to him.

The old man shivered when he saw it. If ever there was a look of pure evil on a man’s face, Smith saw it now. Smith stared into Brian’s cold eyes. “No, leave the girl out. She’s innocent.”

“So was I! But that didn’t matter to her father when I was convicted, did it? All he wanted was someone to punish—a sacrificial lamb for the courts and the press. That’s all I was.”

“The girl’s done nothing to you. Deal with Granger and his wife and that’s it. You need to listen to me: get your revenge over and done with as soon as possible. After you’re done, walk away. Just walk away.”

“No, I can’t do that. Granger is gonna pay and the worst that I can think of won’t be good enough for him. Come hell or high water, I’m going to get him back. Just as I’ve suffered, so will he.”

The older man shook his head and refrained from giving further advice he knew would be refused. The kid was young and like all young men, he was so sure he was right and everyone else was wrong. All things considered, Smith couldn’t blame Brian for wanting to do everything he could to the cop who put in here. After all, if Granger hadn't fucked up, Brian wouldn’t have lost his conscience. But if he didn’t back away, he’d lose his soul if it wasn’t already too late.

“Where are you going?” Smith asked when he saw Brian stand up.

“To my cell. I’ve got some stuff to do. See you later.”

“Sure, kid.” But Smith did not watch Brian leave. He had something else on his mind now. From one of the other lifers in here, he’d heard a rumour that, if he relayed it in the right way to the right person, would make Brian’s remaining time a lot easier.

Smith always liked the boy—thought of him as his own son and like all parents whether by blood or by friendship, he would do all he could to help him. He returned his and Brian’s tray to the mess hall and requested access to a telephone.

lll

He would be released in just over two month’s time. Even though he faithfully counted the days before he would be free again, Brian knew the man he had been had died in this place. Two months from now, a new man would emerge into the light of day, a monster who thought of nothing but hurting the loved ones of that lying sonofabitch who put him here.

Talking to Smith and thinking about what Granger and his family were going to get had given Brian a massive hard-on. He debated whether or not to jerk off. Why the hell not, he thought. One last time wouldn’t hurt. But no more after this. He wanted to be so hard that when he kicked down the cop’s door, no one in that house would doubt what his true intentions were.

Reassured by his cellmate’s steady snores that he was asleep and would not be disturbed by his movements, Brian reached into his pants and stroked himself to full hardness.

His hand pumped faster and faster as he imagined giving Granger’s wife a taste of what he had gone through. It had been two long years since his last time with a woman and Brian licked his lips as he imagined hearing her begging him to stop because it hurt so bad.

Granger’s bitch has no fucking idea of the meaning of pain, but she will, Brian thought.

Or better yet, he’d fuck Granger’s kid. She’d be so tight around him, he’d thrust into her like a knife into butter. No matter what Smith thought or said about the matter, he’d make her bleed just like the brutes that had taken what they wanted.

Brian moaned as he came, his hot come spurting onto his belly. When he calmed down, he wiped himself off and turned to face the wall, leaning over to where the calendar was tacked on the dirty wall beside him. Taking out a red magic marker, he marked off another red X. The day of his release was eight weeks away and the date was circled over and over again.

Brian thumbed through his wallet and was disappointed that he didn’t have more money. In prison, there was only one way for someone to make money and boys his age were few and far between. There were many men in a place like this who would pay for the use of his body but hadn’t had the opportunity yet. These men were not the ones who brutally raped him, using his body for their own pleasure; these men were still decent—they were the quiet ones who jerked off as they lay in their bunks and harmed no one.

But a tight, young ass and a soft mouth such as his was much more satisfying than their fists. Sheer loneliness and the aching, desperate desire to touch the warm flesh of another person, made even the most die-hard heterosexual here change his mind from time to time.

He knew who they were and how to approach them. And with any luck, he’d make a few hundred bucks. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it would suffice until he could get some connections on the outside. If need be, he’d willingly service even the worst scum if it meant getting a name of a useful contact. Then he’d be ready.

An eye for an eye. Revenge was justifiable under the right circumstances. It was even in the Bible, for Chrissake! But Brian would take it one step further.

A hole for a hole. His mouth and ass for Granger’s wife and daughter’s. It was a fair exchange. He’d fuck them up the ass and why not? Give them a taste of what real pain felt like.

As he closed his wallet, a tiny picture fell out and fluttered down and Brian picked it up. Holding the image between his fingers managed to accomplish what his most recent rape had not: he began to cry.

“Nana, Nana,” Brian sobbed, bringing his lips to the picture. “You’re better off dead then to see me like this. If you knew what they’ve done to me in here…”

Brian loved his grandmother dearly; his parents had died and he had been in her care since he was a toddler. During his life, his Nana had been a strong, robust woman but the strain of the trial and the media circus that followed it, sapped her strength and less than six months after he’d been put in prison, she died.

The public defender assigned to his case used every legal loophole to enable Brian one hour outside the prison walls to attend her funeral but his appeals were denied. In fact, they were thrown back in his face, with laughter and derision and the day Brian’s beloved Nana was laid to rest, her grandson, her only living relative, was not present.

Brian dried his tears and forced himself not to cry any more. Tears were a sign of vulnerability and if you showed the slightest sign of it, you’d become easy prey for the two-legged predators in this place, especially the one that slept above him every night.

Predators that looked and walked like men, but on the inside, they were animals. Hungry for fresh meat, they prowled the corridors looking for the new additions to the inmate population. Once they found someone that appealed to them, plans were immediately made among their band of thugs to single that man out and wait for their moment to strike, their loins burning with anticipation.

Two years ago, Brian had been that man and even now, the experience haunted every waking moment and at night, the nightmare would relive itself over and over again. Of their own accord, his eyes squeezed shut and he could see everything as clearly now as on that first night he was locked up.

lll

Brian clutched the dirty pillow and bedding to his chest. The door to his cell slammed behind him and he heard the guard chuckle.

“Pleasant dreams kid,” he said. “If he lets you sleep, that is.”

Brian turned to ask him what he meant but the guard was already walking away down the hall, whistling.

His heart was pounding in his chest. He knew there was a man in the bottom bunk but he wasn’t moving. Instead, he was lying on his stomach, staring at Brian with a gleam in his black eyes that frightened the young man.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.

“Br—Brian,” he replied, taking a step forwards toward the bunk that would be his.

“Not anymore, it’s not.” He spoke with a coldness and finality that made Brian’s blood freeze in his veins.

“What do you mean?” Brian watched as the man swung his legs to the floor and stood in front of him. Not knowing what else to do, Brian edged away until his back was against the bars of his cell.

The man was about forty years of age and his eyes were on the level with Brian’s; however, his neck and shoulders were powerfully built and were the result of many hours of working out in the prison gymnasium.

“What I mean is your name is no longer Brian.” He smiled when he saw the fear in the young man’s eyes. Perfect. The fear was already there without him having to do anything. He reached out and traced a long finger down the boy’s soft cheek; the day-old stubble was so fine, it was like peach fuzz. It was perfect.

“What are you--?”

“Shh.” The man laid a finger over the boy’s wide-lipped mouth. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear you say a word unless I tell you that you can speak. You can, however, beg.” He leaned closer. “And you will, make no mistake about that. But not tonight. Tonight and tonight only, I will leave you alone. This will be the only time that you’ll ever get a good night’s sleep while you’re bunking with me. But tomorrow is another story.” He jerked his chin to the side. “Your place is on the top bunk. I sleep on the bottom.”

“Why?” Brian could not help from inquiring.

“Easier access to your sweet little ass, that’s why. If you’re on top, I’ll know in a second if you’re trying to get away from me. The only to the toilet or sink is through me.”

Brian watched as the man smiled and returned to his bunk. The man’s eyes never left him; his cold black eyes following every move the boy made. Brian felt as if every inch of his body was being examined and it made him uncomfortable but there was nothing he could do except pretend not to notice that his icy gaze seemed to return again and again to Brian’s groin and buttocks.

As Brian settled himself into the top bed, he understood why the man below wanted the bottom bunk—the man on the bottom was aware of every move that he made; even turning on his side made the bunk shake and creak…

No! Brian opened his eyes and waited for his heart rate to return to normal. He forcefully dragged his mind from the horrors of the past. I have to concentrate on what is happening now. There would be a time for remembering everything that had been done to me but that time was not now.

I never got a chance to say goodbye to Nana; all I have left of her is this one picture--that’s another thing I owe you for, Granger, and you’re gonna pay for that in spades. Enjoy yourself for the next two months, motherfucker, ‘cause that’s gonna be the last you’ll ever have.

He smoothed his clothes and wiped his face before preparing to drift off into sleep. Tomorrow he would start. If he was going to have enough money to succeed in his plans, Brian needed to earn as much as possible in the next two months. As every first-rate prostitute knew, a good appearance coupled with an eager attitude meant repeat business and money in the bank.