Randy and Walter: Killers Part 14

Six weeks later, Tommy's father would be dead.

Two days later Tommy's mother would also be killed.

The official report would say that the entire Pelinotti family had killed themselves one after the other.

Chapter 14.

"Happy Valentine's day."

Walter looked up from his desk in the middle of the cla.s.sroom to see who said the overused line. In front of him stood a boy who looked like he deserved to be on the cover of a motorcycle magazine. He had long black hair, a small goatee with not enough hair in it, and a no-nonsense face. He wore a leather jacket with torn blue jeans and rings on each of his fingers. A pair of cheap, black sungla.s.ses s.h.i.+elded his eyes from a sun that wasn't there.

Walter recognized the boy as Paul Trulient. He'd seen him around the other high school cla.s.ses.

Paul was known throughout the school as a bad a.s.s, someone who didn't take s.h.i.+t from anyone. He was also known as gay. Very gay, in fact. At first that knowledge had posed a problem as the rednecks had picked on him and beat him up.

Paul became a bad a.s.s the day of his soph.o.m.ore year. No one knew what changed over the course of that summer to make this so. Freshman year, Paul was known as a coward. Then he wore taped gla.s.ses and his freckles showed. Not to mention the Gooseb.u.mps clothes he was so fond of that made everyone make fun of him.

But when soph.o.m.ore year came around, Paul arrived wearing black leather with sungla.s.ses and long hair pulled into a ponytail. The first thing Paul did was walk into the senior circle and withdrew a wooden baseball bat from under his coat.

Walter remembered watching this; he remembered how silent the students had become as they had watched Paul.

Then one of the rednecks had spoken up. "Look, the f.a.ggot thinks he's gonna scare somebody!"

A couple of students laughed, then silence descended as Paul slowly walked over to the boy who'd made the remark.

"What you gonna do, c.o.c.ksucker?" the redneck asked with att.i.tude.

Paul then showed him what he was gonna do. As if he was up at bat at home plate, Paul swung the bat as hard as he could. It struck the side of the kid's head, dropping the redneck within the span of a heartbeat. Paul dropped the bat next to his fallen opponent and looked around at all the stunned faces.

"Remember this the next time one of you wants to talk s.h.i.+t about me. From here on in I will not hesitate to f.u.c.k you up!"

Several teachers and the on campus rental cop came running up to Paul and his fallen enemy. They arrested Paul and he was kicked out later that year after a full investigation was conducted.

Paul had come back the following year, and was now somehow a junior. Even though he had been kicked out of school his soph.o.m.ore year, he still pa.s.sed that year and became a junior. No one understood why this was, including the teachers.

Walter supposed that Paul had somehow frightened the princ.i.p.al into allowing him to pa.s.s to the next year.

Walter's own years had been plagued by boredom. Him and his father had left Burman years ago and traveled until they came across a little town called Ramseur, only an hour away from Rapshure, South Carolina.

It was an ideal town to live in. The homes were nice, the city was peaceful, and the schools were close. All throughout middle school and most of high school, Walter had kept to himself. He didn't have any friends, nor did he want any. He just did his schoolwork, his homework, aced his tests and was on the honor roll for a while. Walter never talked to anyone, unless it was a teacher.

More or less, Walter was a kiss a.s.s.

Walter's father got a good job at the Whiskey Factory. Contrary to popular belief, the Whiskey Factory wasn't a place that made alcohol or served it. The Whiskey Factory instead was a slaughterhouse. It derived its name from the owner, Don Whiskey. Although his father came home late at night stinking to high heaven with the scent of a thousand dead animals, he was still happy. His dad worked six days a week making $22.50 an hour which was a great paycheck. Of course, for such a paycheck, he had to kill animals, which he said wasn't so bad.

"You get used to it," he told Walter once. "And someone's gotta do it."

For years, life went on unscathed and boring; always the same.

That all changed Walter's senior year on February 14th, Valentines Day. He had noticed Paul watching him more and more every day like clockwork.

And now, here he was, standing over Walter with a card in his hand and a smile on his lips. At first, Walter was worried about this, even a bit frightened. Then Paul took off his sungla.s.ses and Walter's fears were washed away.

Paul's eyes were so blue, so kind, and so mysterious.

Walter realized years ago that he was attracted to other guys; he just hadn't been with another guy for it seemed every time he did, something bad happened.

But now was his chance to try again, perhaps here was his chance at love. Walter smiled back at Paul and took the card from him. With the excitability of a small child on Christmas, Walter ripped open the card and his heart skipped a bit.

The card wasn't your typical Valentine's Day card. This one was handmade which was somehow more important; more feeling had gone into this card.

The card was white, folded construction paper and the front had a drawing of a heart with the picture of brilliant drawing of Walter in the middle of the heart. He opened it and saw that Paul had transcribed a love letter on the inside of the card. It was written with black ink in the most compelling cursive he had ever seen.

Dear Walter, I've been watching you for so long. You are so quiet, so mysterious. Such a beautiful person. Your eyes are mesmerizing, your body intriguing. I think you're so much like me, so misunderstood just like me. I think, and I hope I'm right, that you're attracted to me, too. I've seen you look at me so many times. Not like the rest, you look at me with love, with attraction. I think we understand each other. If you would like to spend Valentine's night with me I would be so happy. What do you say? This afternoon me and you can take a trip to the Point? It is a Friday, after all.

Two against the world.

With love, Paul Trulient Walter closed the card and looked up at Paul. Although they were in cla.s.s in front of everybody and Walter knew just how much he would be ridiculed for such an act, he wanted nothing more. He stood and grabbed Paul around the waist and Paul did the same. They kissed then, and it was such a powerful kiss it was as if no one else was in the world. Even though they heard sounds of disgust coming from around them, neither cared.

Walter pulled away and smiled, his knees shaking from the embrace. "Yes, I'll go with you."

That afternoon, Walter found himself in the pa.s.senger seat of Paul's black Thunderbird headed towards the Point. The Point was nothing more than a small cliff that stood fifty feet over Lake Hasalba.s.s. Because of its history, it wasn't a typical hang out spot for couples. But for Walter and Paul, it was.

It was a place all alone, devoid of all others who would stare at them with hate or disgust. The Point was an ideal spot for the two to be completely alone together.

Walter couldn't help but wonder just why Paul found him attractive, and in a way, this worried him.

The Thunderbird parked in front of the path leading to the cliff. Paul got out and Walter followed. Paul wasn't talking; he didn't even look at Walter.

When they reached the Point itself, Paul was silent as he stood at the edge looking down, his coat flapping around him in the wind. Walter stood behind him with a small feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

He began to realize his stupidity. He realized that n.o.body knew anything about Paul. He could very well be a complete psychopath intent on killing him. Walter's lifeless body could easily fall fifty feet into the lake below and Paul could claim it was an accident and everybody would believe him.

He began to back away, gearing up his legs to run as fast as they could to carry him home. Then Paul turned to Walter with a smile on his face. He extended his right hand as if to ask Walter if he trusted him. Walter found that smile relaxing and took the proffered hand. Paul pulled him toward his body gently and kissed Walter pa.s.sionately, then gazed deeply into his eyes. They stood quietly for several minutes, neither speaking; then Paul's smile faded.

"We're together now. You and me. Two against the world. And if you ever do anything to f.u.c.k it up I'll kill you. Do you understand?" Paul asked coldly, his eyes full of pa.s.sion.

This took Walter by surprise. It was too hostile, too threatening. He found himself trying to pull away from Paul. In return, Paul's grip tightened on Walter's wrist.

Paul moved closer towards Walter.

"Do you understand?" Paul repeated with a sneer.

Frightened, Walter answered the only way he could.

"Yes. I will never f.u.c.k up. I swear!"

The smile on Paul's face returned, that devious yet s.e.xy smile. Walter could tell that this boy, this man, was filled with some kind of power. A seductive power that only a truly powerful man possessed. He found himself at Paul's mercy.

Walter actually considered pus.h.i.+ng Paul off the cliff but the problem with that would be simple, no one would believe him. No one knew Walter; no one respected him like they respected Paulaor feared him.

So he was at the mercy of this man. Paul kissed him again and Walter wanted nothing more than to bite his tongue off. He wished he was powerful, wished he was dangerous. He wished that he was a killer.

But he wasn't, he was a coward.

It was two weeks later and Paul never left his side. Wherever Walter went Paul was there. He would sneak into Walter's bedroom late at night and show him things that he could do with his mouth. One of the nights Paul had snuck in and exclaimed his love for Walter, he said he wanted to show him what true men do.

Walter, unsure, had replied with a yes. Almost immediately Paul grabbed Walter and turned him over. Walter felt his shorts pulled down and began to get scared, not understanding.

He'd never in his life felt pain as he felt that night as Paul basically raped him. He tried to scream out but Paul wouldn't allow it. He placed a hand on top of Walter's head and pushed his face into the pillow so Walter couldn't cry out.

He was unable to breathe as he felt himself being pounded from behind.

Then as soon as it had begun, it was over.

That night Paul didn't stay over. He left right away, leaving Walter crying and bleeding on his bed.

He wasn't able to walk or sit right for days after that.

Above everything else, Walter now found himself scared to death. He found himself wis.h.i.+ng that someone would come along and help him, or at least someone he could be close to.

Then she came and nothing would ever be the same.

Chapter 15.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Jordan Cruester. She just arrived from New York so please make her feel welcome."

Walter looked up from his desk to see a girl wearing tight blue jeans, a stained white t-s.h.i.+rt and golden hair that cascaded down her back. She wore framed gla.s.ses that somehow fit her perfectly.

To an untrained eye she was an ugly mess. But to Walter she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He found himself instantly intrigued. For the first time ever he was attracted to a girl.

When she spoke, her voice came off as angelic with an uptown tone. The teacher sat her down a few desks away from Walter.

A hand came down on Walter's shoulder. He didn't have to look back to know whose hand it was. In his ear Paul whispered, "I saw that look. Don't you even think about it. You're with me."

He took his hand away, but for the first time in several weeks Walter didn't shudder. He was no longer afraid. His eyes fell on the new girl's back and he felt a smile cross his face. There was something about the girl, something amazingly different. Walter felt as though he had finally found someone to truly be with. He wanted to talk with her then, but Paul was around. He would have to wait until later.

That afternoon Walter stood outside the front of the high school alone. Paul had left a little earlier for G.o.d only knows why. It made Walter a bit happy to be left alone. A lot of the students had already gone home but Walter was waiting for his dad to pick him up. He hadn't gotten his license and he didn't have a car, unlike many of the other seniors. He thought he may have been the only senior with this problem.

That thought changed when he saw her standing not far away from him. She hadn't been there a minute ago so she must have walked up just then. Walter found himself staring at her with growing fascination. She turned her head and returned the look. She smiled at Walter and he quickly turned his head away, embarra.s.sed.

As he stared off into the sky, he heard her distant footsteps quickly approaching. Then she was at his side.

"You're Walter, right?"

He looked at her and replied, "Yes, how did you know?"

"Are you kidding? You and your boyfriend Paul are the talk of the school. Everyone knows your name. Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"That Paul is such an a.s.shole? I hear he's got you by the b.a.l.l.s."

"No...no," he lied but then took it back quickly. "Yes, I'm afraid of him."

"Then why don't you get away from him?"

"He's...dangerous." He looked down at a crack in the cement beneath his feet, something to take his worry away.

"You know, back in the city I had a boyfriend. He was a d.i.c.k, too. He threatened my life on more than one occasion. That's why I'm here now."

"Did he ever..." he stopped his sentence and looked at her. Somehow he already knew the answer to his question. She nodded as if she already knew what he was going to ask.

They stood together in silence until she spoke again.

"I have a confession to make," she said.

"What's that?"

She leaned into Walter's ear and whispered, "I've got a car here. I just wanted to talk with you."

"You mean you're not waiting to get picked up by your mom or dad?"

"Dad?" she took her eyes off of Walter and looked away. "I got a dad. Barely. He's...a drinker. My mom was killed a few years ago."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No, don't be. I'm not sorry. She was a b.i.t.c.h, anyways. But my dad, though, he was even more of a b.i.t.c.h. He killed her."

"G.o.d, I didn't..."

"No, don't worry *bout it. He went to prison but he got out. All they could get him for is manslaughter. I live with him but I don't like it. I've...wanted to tell somebody this for so long."

"Why'd you pick me to tell?" Walter asked.

"You...seem like me. I feel like I can talk to you. In a way, we're kinda the same. I've known that all day since I saw you earlier in cla.s.s."