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As is tradition, they gather on a warm night once again to listen and tell stories all night.
The ring around the campfire is bigger this time. Nicky invited his husband, Aaron brought his girl, Kevin came with the former Trojans - Jeremy, Jean, and the lesbians, Dermott and Alvarez.
Dan sits with Matt's head on her lap. She's messing up his spiky haircut, but he doesn't seem to mind. She gives the ex-Foxes and -Trojans a once-over. "Is everyone here or are we still waiting?"
Cheers of 'yeses' are enough of an answer. She opens her mouth once again, but Andrew interrupts her.
"We're still waiting," he only says, but the group erupts with shock in an instant.
The only ones behaving relatively normally are Aaron and Nicky. Nicky is grinning like crazy, and Aaron... well.
"Tell me you didn't bring him here," he groans with a pained expression. "Why him?" he whines, scrunching up his face.
"For my winning personality, of course," a voice comes from behind the trees. Everyone whips their heads around to see the 'him' in question walk out of the woods. The 'he' has auburn hair framing his face and striking blue eyes with long lashes casting shadows on the scars on his cheeks. He is using an expensive-looking cane.
"And my irreplaceable presence," he adds with a small smirk. Aaron makes a sound of disgust, and the stranger nods toward him. "It's good to see you too, Ugly Twin."
"Andrew and I have the same face!"
"Nope," the redhead pops the 'p', heading for where Andrew's seated. "Yours is uglier."
"Junkie," Andrew greets him.
"Drew," the guy says, and it's so, so soft, it's a wonder Andrew doesn't melt on the spot. No one sees in the ever-present flames' light, but Andrew's ears flush red.
"You're late." The man only smiles and sits directly at Andrew's feet. Nothing happens - no threats of stabbing, no violence, only calm acceptance of the warmth of another body pressed against Andrew.
"So," Allison drawls out, "who might you be, beautiful stranger?"
The redhead turns his head up. He stares at Andrew in silent question. Finding something in the blonde's unmoving eyes, he breaks the eye contact and says, "My name is Neil. I'm Andrew's boyfriend."
It takes a while for everyone to calm down. They ask questions, obviously.
"How do you know each other?"
"How long have you been together?"
"Who confessed first?!"
Neil answers respectively: juvie, eight years, and Andrew.
It's obvious they want to ask more, because what do you mean Andrew "I don't care" Minyard confessed first? What do you mean longer than Andrew knows his own twin? But Andrew's glare is enough to make them back off.
Someone adds wood to the fire, and they settle down. Finally getting to the reason for this meeting: storytelling.
First goes Nicky. He tells a classic camping horror story he always tells - everyone already knows it, but they like the nostalgia, so they don't stop him. It's about a ghost of a girl haunting a school bathroom. Everyone knows it except, apparently, Neil.
Jean goes next. It's a story he heard while still in France. It tells of a pair of children asking strangers - mostly adults - for favors, and who later lead them to high cliffs and push them into the deep, dark sea. This one is met with multiple oohs and aahs.
"The story is always better when a child is involved, don't you think?" Aaron muses, trying not to show how much the story actually affected him.
Nicky shakes his head, unsuccessfully trying to throw a marshmallow into his mouth. "Nahh, it's the gore for me. The more disgusting, the better."
The opinions are divided. They start to fight, albeit quietly, because what night would it be without a fight between the Foxes?
Most of them are still arguing, so Neil clears his throat to get their attention. "Have you ever heard of the Butcher of Baltimore?"
They all stare at him for a while. Allison breaks the strange tension around the fire. "Yeah, he's that one murderer who blew up some time ago. Like, eight years ago," she clarifies, glancing briefly at Kevin. Who now looks very pale.
"Serial killer, and yes," Neil corrects. "What do you know about him?"
It's Jeremy who answers this time. "Didn't he kill his family, or something?" Neil nods. "But why is that relevant?"
Neil's lips tug upwards. He looks at Andrew and finds his boyfriend already staring right back at him. Neil tilts his head and says, "I want to tell you a story."
Seth scoffs. "Serial killer story? Really? Can't get more cliché than that."
Most of the group glare wordlessly at Seth.
He acts as if nothing happens. "Besides, everybody knows that story is fictional," he says, "The feds are just trying to scare people into-"
His jerk-speech gets interrupted by a bunch of furious 'Seth''s hissed between clenched teeth. They all steal glances at Kevin's pale, unmoving frame.
"What?" Seth mocks. "Are you scared that the big, scawwy Nathan Wesninski will come and get you? Haunt you from his grave? Well-"
"Seth," Andrew speaks up, a dangerous tone in his voice. It's the first thing he says since they started storytelling. Seth shuts up.
Neil clears his throat. Everyone turns to look at him again. "It's a long one, so get comfortable." He shifts in his position, making himself more comfortable. Andrew's fingers travel to his hair. "Trigger warnings first. The story I'm about to tell is pretty horrendous, so to anybody with a weak stomach: aim for the bushes."
That gains him a few short laughs around the fire.
Neil smiles coldly. "By no means is this a funny story."
The laughter cuts off abruptly.
Neil continues, "I've gotta warn you: I'm not much of a storyteller." He pauses, but only for a moment, feeling the grounding weight of Andrew's hands in his hair. "Although this story is very much real."
Chills run down everyone's spines. Neil begins.
"Nathan Wesninski was an inconspicuous American citizen, living in a regular wealthy picket-fenced house in Baltimore, Maryland. He had a beautiful wife whom he loved, and a son, a carbon copy of his dad, named after him. The life of the Wesninski family was seemingly perfect - a life of wealth and connections and love. Perhaps that overperfection was the only thing to question about their existence.
"The rumors started slowly, but were shared rather quickly. Screaming coming from the house at weird times. Unfamiliar cars driving on and off the driveway regularly, only to not come back ever after. An eerie silence that always surrounded the building, only to be broken by a noise weirdly resembling the crash of glass.
"So the neighbours started suspecting. They became scared. One day, someone called the police.
"It wasn't as bad as anyone expected. It turned out to be a mis... apprehension. The neighbours went to sleep easily that night. But no one knew that inside that house, that wretched, wretched house, cried a small boy named Nathaniel. While the town slept, he wiped the tears off his face and trembled in pain; the weight of the hot iron still phantomed the wound on his shoulder."
Someone, maybe Nicky, gasps a little too audibly.
"He didn't sit still enough when the cops came. That's what his mother told him while bandaging the damaged skin. His father couldn't explain himself; he was too busy throwing around irons in rage. It was one of many similar upcoming nights; Nathaniel was only six, after all."
Neil takes a deep breath before continuing.
"Nathaniel grew up with all sorts of violence: from knives and punches to cleavers, guns, and knives again. Sometimes he was the one who gave scars. More often than not, it was the opposite. The marks all over his body could say as much. It was a little before his tenth birthday that his mother and he disappeared from the face of the Earth.
"Word was, they died. And of course everyone believed. How could they not? The Wesninskis were such a polite family, after all. Nathan mourned them oh, so deeply. Their ignorance continued for many years. Even with all the murders happening not so far from the people of Baltimore. Until one day.
"Nathan Wesninski was brought to court and put into jail. Multiple murder suspect, the police said. But no evidence, they said. For a year, the people of Baltimore knew peace once again. For a year, they didn't have to ignore the screaming. For a year, they weren't afraid.
"And then the year ended.
"It was a calm, early Spring night, the kind when the first flowers start to bloom, but the crisp winter air still lingered around. That day, only two cars were seen on the driveway of the Wesninski estate."
Neil swallows.
"Nathan Wesninski was truly a passionate man. He cared thoroughly about his interests, his work, his family. So when word got around that Nathaniel was miraculously alive, Nathan couldn't pass up the opportunity. He greeted him with a smile, stretched wide on his face, and a meat cleaver in his hand.
"You see, out of all the things that disappointed Nathan in his life, the worst was his son. Nathaniel. He was too kind to be his father. Too cruel to match the outside world. Never enough, never fucking enough."
Neil feels the fingers in his hair tighten as he spits out the bitter words. Gratefully, he leans into the touch.
"Even though Nathan hated his son above all else, Nathaniel was his child. His legacy. He was all the things his father was, raised him to be, and more. They shared the same face, the anger, the terrifying smile that spoke only of violence. And that was the thing, wasn't it? The thing that tipped the scales. The fact that the only touch Nathaniel grew to know was that of pain. Because when the Butcher of Baltimore raised his cleaver on Nathaniel, he didn't consider that the boy he was staring at was just as much of a monster as the Butcher himself.
"So, when the time came, and the people gathered to listen, the authorities repeated the same thing:
"'No breathing person was found in the basement'."
In the silence that follows, only the sounds of the dying fire can be heard.
Neil clears his throat. "Okay, so, uh, s'mores, anyone?"
The group slowly comes back to their senses. Murmurs of agreement roll around, and the tension breaks completely when Jeremy laughs at Nicky's unfunny joke.
The uneasy atmosphere stretches through the night, and it was only days later that everyone fully found peace after the disturbing story.
Right now, though, Andrew leans towards Neil and sends shivers down his spine when he says, "You didn't have to traumatise them like that, Bunny."
"I know," Neil agrees. He brings his hand to Andrew's and intertwines their pinkies. "But it is my life story, after all."
Andrew rolls his eyes, and Neil chuckles.
He glances up at the starry sky. He thinks he could grow used to this.