Prom Night Blues

Chapter 6: Revenge, Captained by the Dread Pirate Wagner

Kurt bamfed back to the mansion during lunch on Monday to retrieve his instrument of revenge. The fencing foil’s whippy, three foot blade wasn’t sharp, and the tip was capped with a plastic button to make it harmless. Or at least not deadly… it would be plenty dangerous without the padding, helmet, and strict rules of the sport it was intended for.

He returned to Bayville High and snuck into the boys’ bathroom to hide. Soon enough, students were heading to their next class. Except for Lance, Pietro, and Todd, who were loitering as always, not caring if they were late.

“So what’s up with you and Pryde?” Pietro asked. “She hasn’t talked to you all day and I’ve had five different guys asking me if it’s true you popped her cherry.”

Lance scowled. “Yeah, we did it. She didn’t have a clue what to do, she just lay there. The X-Losers made her break up with me the morning after the prom. She still wants me, though, she just can’t admit it while she’s with them.”

Todd laughed. “I don’t buy it, dude. She looked real cozy with the elf in the cafeteria. I bet she dumped your ass because she found out your dick’s so small! That’s what it is, ain’t it?”

“Shut up! That’s not it!” By the sound of Lance’s voice, Todd had hit a sore spot. Further argument was ended by the bell signaling the start of class. Pietro was gone in a blur, and Todd left as well, albeit a bit more slowly.

Lance turned and punched a stall door in frustration. The door bounced back, swinging open. He caught a glimpse of smoldering yellow eyes before…

Bamf. WHACK!

Lance staggered forward as the blade lashed his back. He could feel the welt forming almost instantly. He crumpled slowly to the floor as the blows continued, seeming to come from all sides at once. He could see nothing through the haze of pain. All he could hear was the cracking of the metal like a whip against his body and a faint rush of air. The scent of sulfur slowly grew in the enclosed room.

By the time the beating ended, Lance was curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor. He was begging his invisible enemy to stop, in between grunts and cries of pain.

Bamf. Kurt went to put away the foil, shaking with spent adrenaline. It had been almost like something else had taken over his body, attacking mercilessly, relentlessly. Now the red haze of fury was fading. He had avenged his Katzchen.