Jäger: Tod Von Einem Langen Verlorenen

Title: Jäger: Tod Von Einem Langen Verlorenen
Author: Edward Uwnhai Silverfang
Rating: R

Warning: Drugs, Slash, mentions of abuse (sexual and physical), vampire (very small touch), suicide.

Summery: Written in the Jäger universe, no need to read that to understand this story. It’s centered on a human instead of a vampire, basically. Greg is a senior in High School. He works full time and cares for two sisters and his alcoholic mother, what happens when you add more to his already overflowing plate?

Disclaimer: Seether and Ami Lee own themselves and the music I don’t even own, Pizza Hut is a corporation I have no part in and Purple Heart is kind of like a Salvation Army place. I’ve only seen them in Santee California, so I don’t think to many people will know who they are, so for those who don’t, that’s what it is. There are several other things I don’t own, I’m sure you all are smart enough to figure out which. Characters and storyline are mine, though, hands off.

Jäger – Hunter
Tod Von Einem Langen Verlorenen – Death of One Long Lost
Meine Liebe – My love.


~*~*~*~*~*~*

He sat in class; head slumped into his hand and eyes just barely staying open thanks to the boring lecture.

Little Greg was a boy built small and thin, almost delicate. Wide eyes with long dark lashes and bright hazel color, his hair fell around his face shaggily, and his nails were painted black to match his dyed hair. Though his hair carried a burnt, almost rusty red color brushed into it as well. Like old, dried blood.

He has a black hoodie sporting Evanescence’s symbol on it, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and black baggie jeans with a pair of black vans.

His arms were scabbed up, a few fresh wounds, but most old. Skateboarding accidents. He was good, though, he just fell on purpose. Easy excuse’s and believable, so he went for it, not that anyone cared though, no one wanted him around.

He’d been trying since his freshmen year to be one of the guys, to fit in. He went through the many different stages: football lackey, class clown, little dude who took all the spite they had, the one they teased, called friend, then betrayed.

Greg was fed up with it, but wasn’t ready to give up yet. On no, not yet. He had a fighter’s spirit, so what if it was nearly crushed?

He could handle school, a full time job, trying to be one of the guys, trying to get a popular girlfriend, taking care of his alcoholic druggie mother and his two younger sisters, and also, most importantly, he could hide the fact that he was one hundred percent gay.

Oh yes, Greg was gay.

He had no interest in girls other then the fact that it may make the guys like him more, he hated the thought of a pussy and preferred dick. Greg was gay and Greg hated himself because of that fact.

He’d seen the boys that just /looked/ gay, how they were treated. He saw what it was like and no sir; he did not wish that upon himself. So he hid, and became what they wanted, tried so hard to be them, but he was always just one step behind.

He woke up quickly as the teacher’s ruler came down hard on the desk right in front of him and he shot back in his seat with a startled yelp.

“Day dreaming, are we?” the teacher asks, “what is more important then your future?”

“Tonsil hockey with Sara,” he replies automatically. The class breaks out into gales of laughter while ‘Sara’ blushes and glares at him.

“Pig,” he thinks he hears her hiss.

The teacher isn’t pleased, though, and soon has him outside with a note and on his way to the schools office.


Later Greg is now in his car, a blue small thing but it got him places. The only thing is this blue car has a big Pizza Hut sign on the top that was glowing and the back of the car had several boxes of by now nauseating pizza’s.

Yup, Greg is at work. Where he will be till midnight even if he does have to go to school tomorrow. He has a mixed CD in his CD player right now which has a wire plugged into the headphones area that leads to his cars cassette player which had a tape playing the CD’s music. Seether and Amy Lee with Broken blared in his Datson B210 and Greg bobs his head up and down to the music.

As he turns a corner he comes to a quick stop realizing he was at one of the places he needed to be tonight. He parks and grabs a couple of the boxes and bread sticks then takes them up the stairs, looking for the correct apartment number.

He finds it soon as it was near the front and knocks on the door. They open and give him a coupon and the correct amount of money and he passes over the food. He sees a bunch of younger children in the background practically salivating; all of them look healthy and happy.

He sees a middle aged woman, ageing gracefully sitting with a toddler on her lap and playing patty cake and the father, dressed well, if a bit cheap, smiling at his children and being so polite as they talk.

The man gives a nice tip and he returns to his happy world and Greg to his pathetic one.

He sighs and turns away, hands empty but pockets just a bit fuller.

He continues his deliveries through the night, one right after the other. Over and over again before returning late to two very hungry little girls. He’d picked up a box of a pizza someone had ordered but not taken, and gave it to the two of them.

They tore into it like animals, tomato sauce everywhere. Greg sighs as he watches this, heading into the bathroom and starting the bath water and filling the tub. The paint, once white, is peeling off the walls, the toilet stained and the floor stained. No mater how hard he tries he can’t make the place look clean.

He returns to see his little sisters finished with their part and picks them both up. They’re twins and only two years old, both share a mop of pretty brown curls and bright hazel eyes with beautiful skin, plump cheeks, and light flushes of happiness cover their faces.

They’re talking non-stop about their day at the pre-school and all the people they met, their teachers, and the visitor they got today. Greg smiles a bit; their cheer always manages to lift his spirits a bit, no matter what.

He sets them in the bathroom and tells them to get undressed and in the bathtub while he turns the water off and grabs an old towel from a nearby cupboard. He sets it on the sink and helps them into the water. He pulls down the shampoo and after wetting the nearest ones hair washes it in then rinses it out and repeats with the other little girl.

He then washes their bodies and drains the water, giving them a final rinse off with fresh water, though it is a bit rusty in color, before taking them out and drying them one at a time and sending them out of the bathroom and to their room.

He gets in there just in time to see them getting the last of their pajama’s on then crawl into the small twin bed sitting on the floor. He moves over to them and kisses their foreheads, wishing them a good night and telling them not to let the bedbugs bite.

They giggle and curl up together, making a soft smile cross his face once more. He plugs in their nightlight and fetches their little teddy bears so they can sleep without the monsters attacking then turns off their lamps and leaves the door with only a small crack open so he can hear if they cry out.

They’d been having nightmares often since their father, who is now in prison, had molested them. The bad dreams had been diminishing in frequency, but they still came. Greg had faced the man’s anger and his fist many times, but his poor little innocent sisters had been tarnished thanks to him. Greg would never forgive the man.

He goes to the only other bedroom in the apartment and looks in to see his mother is passed out in bed, cans of beer surround her. Her body is bare and evidence from the last man she’d sold herself to for alcohol covers her. Greg sighs and goes in, gathers all the cans and stuffs them into a plastic bag, which he ties up and sets at the door. He gets a washcloth and washes his mother off as well as he could then covers her body with her sheets.

He takes the bag outside to the trash and tosses it in. It was getting colder and colder, he’d need to get jackets for his sister before the snow came, he told himself. He goes back inside and cheeks his jar of money to see how much is in there. Sighing he realizes it’s not enough.

He’d need to work more. He’d volunteer to come in this weekend and squeeze as much time in to working as he possibly could. They needed winter clothing; they’d long grown out of last years.

He went to the box that held dirty laundry and started looking for the things that no longer fit them, he’d sell those to Purple Heart and see how much that’d help him. He put what he found into a bag and set it by the couch. He finally returned to the pizza to find the girls had polished it off. He wasn’t surprised because it had been a small one.

Sighing he throws the box into the kitchen trash and then returns to clean their mess off the floor. He scrubs the tomato sauce off the floor then pressed a dry towel into it to try and soak the water up. After he did as good as he could he left one on it and went into the kitchen and finished the dishes, setting them in the dishwasher to dry.

Finally he takes a shower himself and when finished he pulls on a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt covered with holes. His Evanescence hoodie is hung up somewhere safe. It was a prized possession and the only thing he owned that anyone else wouldn’t have tossed out.

He crawls into the pile of blankets on the living room floor, which was his bed and was soon asleep. He wakes up at six to his alarm. After turning it off then resetting it for the next morning he gets out and pulls on the jeans he wore yesterday and a pair of socks and his shoes. He heads down the hallway to see his mothers door open, he peeks in to see she’s gone. His eyes widen and he runs out to the living room and he looks for his jar, finding it empty of all the money he had saved up.

He presses the palm of his hand against his eyes, cursing several times over and over again. After a moment when he has himself under control, he finally returns down the hall to his sister’s room and wakes them up, smiles and kisses accordingly.

He makes them a breakfast of cheerio’s and milk with a sprinkling of sugar then dresses them up with clothing as warm as he could, knowing it’s going to be cold. He grabs his hoodie and picks them up, leaving the house with his backpack and the girls, locking the door, and returning to his car.

The girls are set in the back, no special car seats for their small selves because he couldn’t afford it; he just drove much more carefully with them in it. He buckles them up then moves to the front and starts the car, putting in a little sing along CD with Bingo and several other songs they enjoyed screaming with.

He takes them to the preschool, dropping them off while telling the teacher there that Erica has a sniffle and if it gets worse before Amy, the one girl at school who actually dug into his life just a touch and fell in love with the girls, came to pick them up and take them home to just call his school and have them give him a note and he’d come and get them.

The lady nods her head, pity filling her eyes as she looks at him and the girls. Greg hated that and so quickly left, returning to his car and driving to school. He’s an hour early, but spends that time doing his homework before school starts, doing it in order of his class periods because he knew it wouldn’t all be finished before school started but he’d have lunch to do the second half of the days and other classes he sometimes had a chance to do a little of it in.


After school he was back at work, begging for more time to be able to work. His boss frowns, “you’re working overtime,” he says, “and other people are working then…”

Greg flashes his puppy dog eyes, his boss was an older grandfatherly type man and Greg had long ago learned the best way to get what he needed from him.

He sighs and finally concedes. Greg’s whoops for joy and thanks the man, “you’ll not regret this!” he promises before leaving to get to work. He stacks the pizza’s up and takes them to his car with the addresses written on a piece of paper on each deliveries pile.

He was at the door of his last delivery for the night. It was at the end of the town, very big place. Nearly a mansion. Obviously rich people, though it was a dark looking place.

He knocks on the door and a young woman answered it, a sneer on her face. “Pizza…” she mutters. She turns away leaving the door open before Greg can reply.

“Who the hell ordered pizza?” she calls into the house loudly.

A few seconds later he hears a guys voice from somewhere he couldn’t see yell back, “I did! Be there in a moment, just need to get the money. Send him in.”

Greg’s eyes widen, in? Did he mean into the mansion? The woman waves him in and grabs a random maid looking girl to lead him. They go up a very elegant staircase and to the left, then down a long hall and finally stop at a random door.

The lady bows and walks away, not a word said.

Greg’s a little weirded out, but knocks on the door he was left at and it’s soon answered by a very pale looking young man with a big grin on his face. “Thanks,” he says, opening his wallet, “so how much is it?” he asks.

“Sixteen seventy-five,” Greg says, reading the little bit of paper on the box.

The man nods and counts it out, taking the pizzas and passing the money, “come in for a bit?” he asks.

Greg’s eyes widen, “I… I well…” he wants to say yes, oh gods does he want to say yes…

The other man takes his hand and pulls him in, setting the pizzas on a random table and taking the choice out of his hands, “I wont keep you for long,” he murmurs.

Greg kind of blubbers around with words for a few moments, making the other laugh, his light blonde hair fluttering around his face. Greg shivers, trying to NOT wonder how that would feel against his skin.

He presses Greg against the door with his body, “you sure you can’t stay?” he asks very suggestively.

Greg’s eyes are wide, and a startled expression has crossed his face, especially when the other leans forward and presses his lips against Greg’s own. One of the others thighs press between his thighs, rubbing teasingly.

Greg just holds onto the others arms, frightened, but damn if it didn’t feel good. He couldn’t deny how hard he was. When the other bites into his lip, though, he pulls away, “no!” he says, pushing the other away then bolting out the door and out of the mansion.

He gets into his car and drives away as fast as he can, returning to Pizza Hut and checking out. He goes home to find his sister’s already asleep curled up together in his bed. He smiles a little and picks them up, taking them to their own room and tucking them into bed.

He checks in for his mother, but she’s still not home, nothing new. He takes a shower and finally he allows himself to think about what happened earlier as hot water falls over his head.

It did feel good, but he was /not/ going to be gay. He was /not/ going to give everyone at school a chance to beat him up for being queer. He would not do it. But gods it felt good…

He feels himself start to harden as he thinks of it, but quickly ends his shower and leaves it, dresses in his boxers and a t-shirt and goes to bed. The next morning he wakes up with vague memories of a dream dispersing from memory and a wet spot in his boxers.

Greg sighs and gets up, cleans off quickly and dresses. He gets his sisters up, gets them their cereal, and then dresses them warmly. He gathers the bag of clothing and goes to his car, sisters in and buckled, bag in the passenger seat and he takes off.

After selling their old clothing he counts out his money. That added to gas and food money was just enough, possibly. He’d be working today and tomorrow so he could make up for it.

He buys them jackets gloves, and waterproof boots, they fashioning for him when trying it on. He takes them home after that and puts in a call to Amy begging her to watch the girls for a few hours today. She grudgingly says fine and promises to pick them up soon.

Thanking her profusely he takes off to work, starting his rounds once more.


When he gets home that night, his mother still isn’t home; he’s starting to get worried about it, but doesn’t show it to his sister’s. He dressed them again but this time in play clothes and took them to their babysitter and took off once more.

The guys had a party tonight he wanted to go to. He was dressed in his usual, of course, it was to cold for just his hoodie, but there was nothing else he had.

He gets to the house, a larger one, and goes in. He quickly has himself a plastic cup filled with beer and a couple of blotters. His world changes drastically with that mixture and he enjoys it thoroughly.

Several hours later and Greg is dancing himself away with a large amount of people to whatever music was blaring away. At the wall a bunch of the guys from his school are gathered, pointing to him and laughing. Plotting.

The only reason they put up with him at all is because he’s a great laugh most of the time, but Sara had not been happy about the little comment about her and as such, wanted them to teach him not to do it again.

One of them heads to the dance floor while the rest head to the back yard, he grabs Greg by his elbow and drags him off the floor, “where’re we headin…?” Greg slurs.

The other boy doesn’t answer just leads him outside and over to the pool. The other boys had already removed the plastic sheet covering it, but the water was still ice cold.

Greg eyes it warily, “what’s goin on…?” he asks.

They lead him right next to the pool then push him into it. Greg goes under but quickly kicks his way to the top gasping. “Fuck!” he announces after he gets a breath.

He swims over to the side and is about to pull himself out when one of them kick him in the jaw and knocks him back into the pool. He splutters around for a few moments, holding his jaw, looking up at them with an accusing glare, “the fuck’s your problem?” he yells, freezing and now with a aching jaw.

“Greg,” Justin sighs, “Sara didn’t appreciate the fact that you were thinking of her and even less that you announced it…” he says depreciatingly, “she told us to teach you a little lesson.”

And they do. They keep him swimming around, hitting or kicking him every time he swam close to an edge, it isn’t for another hour and Greg’s body starts to stop moving that they finally drag him out and throw him onto the cement, leaving him there with a few more kicks as a parting gift.

Greg slowly pulls himself up into a sitting position then finally standing, he wobbles over to the wall and leans against it, dizzy and freezing. His body was shaking uncontrollably and he could hardly keep his feet.

He slowly walks to his car and lies down in the back of his car; thankful he’d asked the babysitter if she could watch them all night. The next morning he drives home, washes and changes, dully noting his mother was still gone, then goes to pick up his sisters and takes them to church and Sunday School.

He takes off to work as soon as they’re safely inside; his boss isn’t pleased with all the bruising and tells him to find a way to hide it or to just go home. One of the girls working offers some of her makeup to use, she takes him into the back and applies it liberally to try and hide the bruising. She asks what happens, but Greg doesn’t say.

It’s good enough his boss lets him work, though and he takes off again on his usual rounds.


On one of Greg’s rounds he stops and picks up his sisters from Church and takes them with him to work, keeping them in the car covered with lots of blankets for warmth while he gets a new batch of pizzas.

While he’s in there, though, his boss calls him over and he goes over to him with a confused expression, “what is it?” he asks.

“The police called,” his boss starts; “it’s your mother…” he starts, looking grave and full of pity.

“What did she do this time?” Greg grumbles, an angry expression taking over his face.

“She didn’t do anything… someone killed her,” he says, “they just found her…”

Greg freezes, his body shutting down, “they’d like it if you could go and take care of a few things…” he says, “You’ve been excused from work for the rest of today and the next two with pay,” he says.

Greg nods, going back out to his car and turning the light on his Pizza Hut sign off and taking his sisters to their babysitter. He heads off to the police station in a numb state, breezing through with a detached horror.

He doesn’t remember much of what was said, he just made sure his sisters could stay in his care and drove home, wondering how he’d pay for all the costs of a proper burial and everything else needed for her.

The next day his sisters are at the preschool and he is once more at school, beat up and everything.


Two months have passed, his mother has been taken care of, though the debts he made to have her buried were great and still weigh heavily on his shoulders, and school is three months from closing, his graduation is looming in front of him.

In this time he continued working and the weird guy, or as he later found out his name is Matt, kept calling for him and ordering pizzas often, each time he convinces Greg into doing a bit more and more. First it was just a little hugging, then a slight kiss moving to making out.

He started having Greg drop by when he wasn’t working so they could have more time and he would introduce more and more to Greg as he could, though Greg still refused to have sex with him.

The boys at school continue to lead him on then trample him, draw him back, and trample him once more, the girls just continuously tease him, and his sisters become listless when they found out their mother would never return.

Greg hardly knows what to do with himself.


“You look tired, meine liebe,” Matt murmurs, hugging Greg close to his body, “you’re driving yourself insane,” he presses a kiss to the others lips.

Greg sighs, closing his eyes and pushing against Matt’s body, wrapping his arms up between them and just making himself small.

Matt strokes a hand down his side to his hip, fingers rubbing against the inside of the hip between thigh and groin, the only thing separating their skin from contact are Greg’s jeans.

“Let me comfort you,” Matt whispers into Greg’s hair, he nods his head against Matt’s chest, to tired to fight it any more.

Matt turns him onto his back, pressing their lips together softly, flicking his tongue against Greg’s lips to get him to open up, which he does after a resigned moment. Matt’s tongue fills his mouth, his hands running along Greg’s body, “you’re lovely,” he murmurs as his mouth pulls away, their lips moist.

He runs his tongue down Greg’s throat, little nipping bites running down the smooth column of flesh. Matt’s fingers quickly pull Greg’s t-shirt over his head, tossing it away from the bed and then his lips move down to his chest, latching onto the other nipples.

Greg’s body likes it, the attentions it’s receiving, but his mind is in a detached place, only vaguely aware of what the other was doing to his body. He didn’t really want this, but was tired of fighting back. Matt new what he wanted and got it, no matter what.

He’s startled when he feels fingers at his entrance and tenses, but Matt sooths him till he relaxes again, it had thoroughly destroyed his protective little room he’d run to, he was back and could feel everything, could /know/ what was going on.

The finger pushes in stretching him slightly and his body tenses again, but he blocks it out, his mind backing away from reality and into it’s hiding place. It was better then breaking out into tears and bawling like a girl, he thought, even if it was a bit cowardly.

He was barely away of Matt entering his body, and the pain of it, barely aware of his body arching as the other hits his prostate, barely aware as Matt comes, but he does return when his own body releases, his eyes open wide then close shut tightly.

Matt’s teeth bite into his shoulder and then it seems they dig deeper then they should be able to and he pushes at Matt to get him off. Matt doesn’t, but eventually does pull away, his lips red with blood. My blood, Greg realizes, eyes widening.

He scurries out of the bed, eyes wide and looks at Matt with horror.

Matt just laughs, a wicked sounding thing, his blue eyes seem to glow for a moment.

Greg grabs his clothing, pulling on his jeans and t-shirt and just grabbing the rest and running out of there. He goes home and showers, and afterward looks at his wound stupidly.

He doesn’t ponder it long before dressing and going to pick up his sisters from Church. He adds it to the growing pile of things he refuses to contemplate, the very large and still growing pile.

The very next week, though, he finds himself at Matt’s home again, under his rutting form, his shoulder and neck bleeding. He doesn’t want it yet craves it; Matt is his relief from the world. He makes him bleed, gives him pleasure, gives him a time to not have to contemplate his sisters, school, work, life in general. It’s just them two.

Greg finds himself spending more and more time away from reality, trapped in his safe spot in his mind. At school when the girls tease him, when the guys hit him or push him against the lockers, when his sisters pout or cry, when Matt fucks him and drinks from his body.


It’s a month before school ends, his sisters got sick the night before and started puking, one because she had an upset stomach, the other because she got sick at the sight of her sister puking and he was up all night with them, he fell asleep in one of his classes and the teacher went off on him, the guys teased him for it, pushed him into the walls and gates, pushing him around the rest of the day.

Another teacher gives him a detention for not finishing his homework once more.

“What do you think you’ll get out of life if you can’t complete simple homework assignments!” he’d said.

Greg thought about that more then he probably should have, what did he want out of life?

Did he want anything at all? He didn’t know.

The next Monday, though, he had his answer.


He wakes up at the usual time, wakes his sisters up and dresses them, feeds them their cheerio’s, takes them to school with kisses to their foreheads he tells them how much he loves them. He goes to school, puts up with getting pushed around and yelled at then during lunch, he walks into the cafeteria, finds the table he sits at with Justin and the rest of the guys.

He sits down next to him, not caring that someone else had that seat, and faced him. Justin just looks at him weirdly, “the hell you want?” he mutters.

“I just wanted to let you know how much I hate you,” Greg says, “How much I hate all of you.”

He opens his backpack pulls out a simple gun and shoots himself in the head.

-End-

This story is dedicated to Santana High School’s students and employee’s and anyone else who was on property when a student there started shooting. 13 people were shot, 2 killed. I was just registering at that school when it started, I was great friends with the shooters best friend and years later it still leaves me befuddled as to why he would do that.

I was listening to Youth of the Nation by P.O.D. when I got the inspiration for this story. They were recording the song just a few miles away at the same time as the shooting and so decided to dedicate it to us, the population of Santee’s Santana High School.

Anyone who’s been through any sort of shooting whether at school or not knows it’s a traumatic experience and can understand the depth of the pain left over from that, especially if you’re close to the people shot, or doing the shooting.

I have constant reminders in my life because one of the boys killed that day is buried next to my grandfather and every time I visit him, I also revisit that day.

-Edward Uwnhai Silverfang