Clubhouse

It was dark. The only thing Bert heard were the sounds of the leaves crunching beneath his feet as he walked through the woods behind his friend, Branden. He doesn’t know how he ended up this far away from his house, but he knew it had something to do with Branden’s tempting voice.
“Come on, Bert,” He would say. “Just follow me. I won’t hurt you. I’m your best friend.”
Branden even got him to try crack, once. Bert didn’t like it too much, but Branden seemed to enjoy it a whole lot. It scared Bert; the way he felt after he used it. His heart sped up and slowed down in weird combinations. He decided it wasn’t the best thing for him to be spending his time on.

They continued on into the woods as it got even darker. Bert didn’t know what time it was, but he knew it had to be late. He was scared of being out here with only Branden with him. Bert wasn’t sure if he was high or not; only that Branden had called him up wanting to talk about his girlfriend. They had recently broken up.

Bert could see an area up ahead with fewer trees around. He saw the outline of what looked like a small house. As they got closer, Bert found out he was right. It didn’t look as run down as it should have. It was almost as if someone has been keeping everything in working order.

“Where are we, Branden?” Bert asks in his softest voice. He didn’t want to anger him, after all. Branden just turned around with a sinister smile on his face and didn’t reply. He just continued to walk forward, completely ignoring the other boy. Bert was slightly hurt, but let it slide. He was used to this kind of behavior from Branden.

As they got closer to the door, Branden slowed his pace and waited for Bert to catch up, even though he was only a few steps behind. Bert thought this was a kind gesture on Branden’s part and gladly walked next to him the rest of the way. When they got to the front door of the shack, Branden opened it up without the trouble of a lock. Bert believed that he had been here before tonight; probably with some of his other friends.

They walked in and Branden turned on one of the lamps in the room. Bert concluded that it must have been battery powered because there was no way someone could have power out here. Bert began to shiver. It was like it was colder on the inside than out where winter was beginning to show itself. Branden noticed and wrapped his arms around Bert from behind, giving him a very unnatural feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was grateful for the warmth, though.

Branden’s hand began to travel from Bert’s arms, which were now crossed over his chest in a defensive way, to his torso; just above his pant’s rim. Bert’s heart sped up and he jerked away from him. Branden had a look of hurt across his face. He’s never acted like this before. Thought Bert.

“I thought you wanted to talk about your girlfriend?” Bert questioned, feeling distraught. His heart was still beating at the same rapid, unnatural pace. He was scared out of his wit. What had gotten into Branden?
“What’s there to talk about?” He replied. “We broke up, that pretty much signifies the end, right?” His words were slurred. Bert was almost one-hundred percent sure that he was high; or at least drunk.
“What was the point of bringing me out here, then?” He asked. His words were becoming less and less understandable as he tried to understand what was wrong with Branden.
“I just wanted to hang out,” He said, inching closer and closer to Bert. All Bert wanted to do was hide, but he was forced to keep backing up until he hit a wall.
“Oh, what’s wrong, Bert?” Branden beckoned. Bert’s eyes widened as he was pushed up harder against the wall he’d previously ran into. “Are you afraid of having a little fun?” Branden started pressing kisses along Bert’s jaw line. A whimper escaped from Bert’s lips as her started to cry.
“Branden…what are you d-doing?” Bert stuttered out. He was trembling from fear. What was happening? What was Branden playing at?
“I’m kissing you, silly,” he said with a chuckle. He pressed his lips to Bert’s while they were still open from shock, automatically letting his tongue into Bert’s mouth. Bert tried to shove Brandon off of him but he wasn’t strong enough. Branden pulled away from his lips.
“I like it when you try to dominate things; it makes life interesting.”
Bert felt disgusted as anger flowed through him. He brought up a fist and threw it toward Brandon’s face. It hit him on his nose, causing an immediate crack and blood to flow from his nose. The look on his face as he reached up to his nose and brought back his bloody fingers was priceless.
“You’re going to regret that,” Branden said as he lost all tenderness in his voice that had ever been there before. He pushed Bert onto the ground and straddled him in the process. He pulled off Bert’s shirt and began to attack the first inch of skin he saw. Bert was crying harder now. He wanted Branden to stop. He tried pushing him off, but it only caused him to hold on to him tighter.
“You know, if you’d just relax, it’d be a lot easier on you,” He snarled. Bert did what he said and just let Branden do what he wanted. Branden was never the type of person to do these things, and Bert was never one to allow them. He was too scared of what Branden was capable of doing if he struggled.

Branden started to suck a little too roughly all over Bert’s skin. It hurt Bert in a way he didn’t know it was possible of hurting. As Branden inched closer to Bert’s pants, he looked up as if asking for permission. Bert shook his head ‘no’ as violently as he could. All ability to speak in his body had vanished. Branden smirked and ripped off his own pants. He started to mess with the button on Bert’s pants, but couldn’t seem to get it.
“Help me!” He said fiercely. Bert immediately unbuttoned his pants and shimmied out of them for fear of being hurt. He smirked at him. “That’s a good boy.” Bert shuttered at both his sudden sadistic nature and at how cold it was. He stripped them both of their boxers and positioned himself at Bert’s entrance. This was Bert’s last chance to beg Branden to let him go.
“Branden,” Bert said; his voice was a shaky mess.
“Oh, I see you’re moaning out my name, now.”
“No, Branden, please stop this. Why are you doing this?” Branden didn’t answer, he only shoved himself into Bert. He cried out in pleasure, while Bert did the opposite. He could feel himself ripping. He wanted to kill Branden. He wanted Branden to feel the same pain that he was feeling at the moment. Bert started to move away from Branden, but he grabbed him arms and held him in place.
“Branden, please, stop!”
“Yeah, say it like that again. I love it when you’re in pain.” Bert couldn’t say anything else. Branden would take it and turn it into what he wanted it to be. He could only say there and cry out in pain as hot tears ran down his face.

Finally , Branden finished off and pulled out. The movement shocked Bert as he laid there, bleeding on the floor of an old shack in the middle of the woods. Branden kicked Bert in the ribs as he looked down at him with a snarl on his once loving face.
“Clean yourself up, bitch.” Branden got dressed and left, leaving Bert in the middle of a freezing shack. He pulled himself together long enough to get dressed so he wouldn’t freeze. It hurt pulling up his pants, even though they were pretty loose.

He noticed a blanket and a ratty-looking couch in the corner. He walked over and curled up into a ball. He was too tired to walk back home, and too restless to sleep. He was thinking about what had just happened. He and Branden had always been the best of friends. He couldn’t understand why he would so something like that.

The light that Branden had turned on slowly went dim. It probably needed new batteries. It was eerily quiet it the little shack, and Bert was afraid to be there by himself. As his vision got blurry and faded, he concluded that the only thing that was worse than what had just happened was to die, and he was begging for it; so obviously, it never came.