Divine Punishment

Be warned, this story portrays gay relationships. SHOCKING, I know!

But wait, there's more! No sex! Are you still conscious? Good. What I mean by that is that this is intended to be more a PG-13 story. Well, in terms of sex, anyway. You can't expect no swearing, now can you? So, if you're looking for some masturbation material, there are plenty other fine sources around, but this story, I am sorry to say, is not one of them.

Keeping that in mind, if you decide to go ahead and read, feel free to always contact me at ghostofoldtrafford@yahoo.com

DIVINE PUNISHMENT

Chapter 3

You know, I really need to stop with all this fainting shit, or someone might mistake me for a pansy one of these days. But, seriously, what do you do when you wake up with the ghost of your dead high-school tormentor standing at the foot of your bed? Well, call Dr. Watkins, of course, and book a one-way trip to the loony bin. But the natural instinct is to either scream in sheer horror or collapse...in sheer horror. And since I'm too manly to scream...Yeah, so, as I was saying, there I was, sprawled on the floor, again, with a voice telling me to wake up...again.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you little pussy, wake up. I ain't done with you yet." Terry said. I just groaned, still hoping that I was sane enough to control my own mind and, you know...make him go away in a cloud of smoke or something. But he had other plans. Like spilling the pitcher of water I had on my nightstand over my head. That was when I sat up and started getting suspicious. Talking to dead people is one thing. Kinda like, err...normal insanity. Basic stuff, you know? When said dead people start interacting with your environment, you have to start worrying. Because, you're either so fucking insane that you have some kind of split personality, throwing water over yourself, while pretending to be a ghost or the whole thing's real. And that's even worse, because...come on, dude...FUCKING GHOSTS! "Good, you're up. Now tell me why I'm dead."

"This isn't happening. You're not real. I'm just crazy, that's all. Yep." I said, ignoring him and moving to my closet to get dressed. If he weren't just a figment of my deranged imagination, I'd be embarrassed by having Terry see me naked, because, as big an asshole as he was, he was still friggin hot as hell.

"Okay, today's another warm day. Shorts and t-shirt will do. Oh, I love this shirt..." The whole closet erupted and clothes started spilling out and flying around the room, my beloved shirt getting ripped to pieces in the process. I sighed and turned to Terry. "What's next? Voices from the TV?" My TV exploded next, as Terry started screaming. Well ,at least it wasn't an expensive plasma or something.

"STOP THAT! Right now!" I yelled and everything was still again. Except my TV was still broken. Goddamnit! "You, cut this Poltergeist shit out at once." Terry was unmoving and perfectly quiet. My eyebrow shot up. Well, both of `em. I can't do the whole Spock "one eyebrow up" thing. It's my one flaw. "Okay, good. Now...umm, sit down or something." He did so. This was going well.

"Okay, so...first of all, I need to make sure I'm not crazy." I said. Terry made to open his mouth, but I silenced him with a look. Totally cool, that, having him obey me like that. Which, of course, only served to further convince me that he was a product of my rotten mind. God, to be so insecure in one's own mental capacities.

I opened the door and shouted for Fern. She was up already, of course, since it was almost 11 o'clock. Damn, I slept a lot! Anyway, the little one scurried into my room like a weasel and let out a low whistle when she saw the state of things. "Damn, Hudson. What the hell did you do?"

"So, clothes are really all over my room, right? I'm not seeing things."

"Umm...yeah." She looked at me in her "you're a fucking idiot" manner. "Did a tornado come through here? And, holy crap! What did you do to your TV? Mom's gonna have a cow when she gets home!"

"She already has one, dear sister. She named her Fern. Now, please leave. Thank you for your assistance." I pushed her out of my room and slammed the door shut in her face, cutting off the numerous biting replies she threw back at me.

I ran my hands through my hair and shut my eyes tight, trying to make sense of things. When I opened them again, I saw Terry. Yep, I had a dead teenager sitting on my bed, twiddling his thumbs.

"Terry, right now, I'm not entirely sure I'm not supposed to be in the care of men in white coats, but, assuming I'm sane and you're really here, as a ghost and all...what the hell's going on?"

"WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME, YOU LITTLE..." he started shouting.

"Shut it, I said." He fell silent. "Well, that was easy. What gives?"

"I don't know what you mean." He said, looking away.

"Don't play that shit with me. What's with going Poltergeist one minute, completely silent the next?"

His jaw tightened for a minute and he inhaled loudly. Well, I guess he didn't, since he was dead and all, so his respiratory functions were non-existent, but, you know...he did the whole frustrated breathing thing that living people do so well. He seemed to be debating whether or not to tell me anything. "Spill. Everything." I said.

"Fine. I'm supposed to do whatever you say."

"Come again?"

"It's not my idea, believe me. But that's what they said. I'm forced to...obey you! God, this is so humiliating."

"Wait. What? Who? Huh? Go back. Who's they? Just...start at the beginning."

"Okay. So, I was at the Pearly Gates..." I snorted in derision. "You want me to tell you the story or not?" I waved my hand, telling him to go ahead, so he continued. "Or Limbo, or whatever. Lots of light and shit. I thought I was just drunk as hell and hallucinating. Maybe on an acid trip or something."

"Must've been one hell of a party."

"It was. But as I was saying, there I was, looking around, being all trippy, and this guy walks up to me and tells me I need to go back."

"What, the `it's not your time' thing?"

"Oh, no, he told me that I'm dead. Toast. Worm fodder. Never to be seen alive again. But he said that I need to go back and find out what happened. And he said you'd know."

"Me?" I asked in a squeaky voice. "What makes you think I know anything about it? I have no idea what happened. I certainly didn't kill you with my mind, that's for sure."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. You just...drowned. Had an accident, ran off the road and into the lake and slept with the fishes. You were most likely drunk out of your mind."

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"That's not what happened. I never drove anywhere, because I was too drunk."

"Well, if you were so drunk, what makes you think you'd remember anything?"

"Okay, you have a point. But if it was that easy, why the hell would they, whoever they are, send me back? Just so you could tell me that I had a drunken accident? Look, Pryce, I know I was an asshole while I was alive, but...please, I'm a fucking ghost. They said you'd help me. I'm begging you, man. Tell me what you know."

I heaved a sigh and stared into Terry's grey eyes. "Okay. When I went to sleep on Friday, I...I sort of imagined or, fantasized, I guess...umm, about you. I...I saw you drowning." I looked away from Terry, unable to meet his eyes anymore.

"What? You fantasized about me dying?"

"I guess so. I know that makes me sound like a freak, but...I was in a mental hospital, after all."

"So I heard." Terry got up from the bed and started pacing. "Wait. What time did you go to bed?"

"I don't know, early. I didn't fall asleep right away, but I'd say it was before 9 PM."

"Damn, you're a loser."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. No, what I mean, by 9 PM, my party had barely started. I don't think I'd had more than a beer by then. I certainly didn't leave my party that early, if, indeed, I even got behind the wheel of my car, which I really don't remember doing."

"So...I didn't kill you?"

"Yeah, you can stop worrying about that." "Damn. I was hoping I had some kind of superpower, killing people from afar. I even had my X-Men name picked up and everything."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I ain't telling you. You're an ass." We both fell silent for a while. "Terry, why were you an ass?"

"I plead the Fifth."

"Spill. It's an order."

"This whole thing is going to your head."

"Give me a break. How often does one get to have a pet ghost?"

"I'm not your damn pet."

"Terry...Sit!"

"Oh, for the love of..." he sat.

"Roll over." He rolled around the floor.

"Play dead." I said, smirking.

"Yeah...funny. Dead guy jokes. No wonder you're so popular."

"Okay, forget that. Just, tell me why you've always been so mean to me."

"I dunno. I guess it was my way to rebel."

"What do you mean?"

"My dad's a great guy. Fantastic dad, in his own way. I always knew he loved me and he raised me with a purpose. You know, be good, grow up to be a fine man, help people, take over the business, expand and be a philanthropist, just like him. And, well, when I started high-school, I just said `Fuck that shit!' I didn't want to be like him. I wanted to be wild, have fun. Be the king of the school. And you were always an easy target..."

"That...makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. You had a great family life, a wonderful future ahead of you, so you decided to rebel and be an asshole?"

"Well, I never claimed that my thought process involved any kind of logic..."

"Christ, and now that you said that your dad's a good guy, I can't even blame your asshole gene anymore. You were a jerk just because you WANTED to be. Serves you right to be my pet ghost..."

"OH, SHIT!" we both exclaimed at the same time.

"You don't think..." I started.

"No. Not even angels could be such big dicks."

"But, it sorta makes sense."

"Oh, God...they put me with you as some sort of punishment? That's just sick!"

I started grinning. "Oh, I dunno. This could be kinda fun. My own pet ghost/Poltergeist. We could go for walks in the park, play fetch..."

"I could bug you when you sleep, shower, jerk-off..."

"N-no, you couldn't." I stammered. "You're supposed to do everything I say, right? I'll just forbid you from doing those things. You'll be kinda like my Pokemon. Only out when I call you."

"Friggin nerd...And that sounds like bullshit. That's cruel and unusual punishment."

"I don't think any regulations regarding the treatment of prisoners applies to dead people."

"Well, I won't stand it."

"Well, them's the rules, boy! So suck it up." Terry scowled at me then dissolved into thin air. Now, you might have noticed that I was becoming quite comfortable with the idea of talking to ghosts again. But seeing him vanish like that spooked me. Is he supposed to do that? If he's to do what I say, then how do I get hold of him? I had started masturbating that morning, when he interrupted, so maybe I was supposed to rub my dick three times and wait for him to show up? I was seriously contemplating testing that theory when mom's voice sounded from downstairs.

"Hudson, honey. You up there? I'm home."

"Mom, you'll never guess what Hudson did." My sister said excitedly, running out of her room. Poor beast. Guess the previous night's lesson was lost on her.

"Fern, what did I tell you last night? Your brother's business is not your own unless he actually asks you to get involved. One more week added to your sentence."

"Fine. Then I'm a lesbian from now on."

"Too bad. You'd be missing out. Your brother has better taste. Now go to your room." My sister's response was a gurgling yell akin to something one might stumble upon in a horror movie. I passed Fern on my way down the stairs, as she was heading back up and she shot me her most terrifying evil eye. Now, if there's anyone capable of voodoo, it's Fern. I had no doubt that she would be heading straight back to her room and pulling out her pentagram and book of spells, trying to make my ass extra hairy or give me boobs or something. What can I say? She's evil, but in a childish way. God save us all when she grows older, though. My blood runs cold at the very idea. Anyway, getting sidetracked again...

I made my way to the living room, where mom was sitting on the couch. She patted the seat next to her, signaling me to sit.

"On my way back from Church...By the way, Mrs. Courich wants you to accompany her on a shopping trip next weekend. But I told her you lack any and all fashion sense, so don't worry, dear. Anyway, on my way back, I started thinking." She said, then stopped, tapping her chin with her index finger. "Well, no beating around the bush. I was thinking about your sex life."

"Oh, God, save me..."

"Now, now. What I was thinking was, you know, the whole stereotypical portrayal of gays as being..."

"Promiscuous?"

"Slutty. Well, I realize that a lot of gay guys are like that, especially younger ones. But that's a result of society, really. By not being totally accepting and refusing equal rights to those of heterosexual couples, we're basically encouraging promiscuity, as you say, instead of long-term, stable relationships. But let's not get into that right now. My point is that, as a mother, I want what's best for you. And I know you're horny. Straight or gay, teens are always horny. But I want you to think about something. Casual sex often leaves people feeling unsatisfied and remorseful in the long run. Now, again, I know that such a life, filled with one-night stands, works for quite a lot of people. Again, both straight and gay. But when sex comes attached to strong emotions between two people, it is far better, believe me. Your father and I...Well, I could tell you stories."

"God, please don't..."

"Maybe some other time. Right now, as I was saying, I'm just thinking of your own good, and my desire is that you experience sex with someone you have feelings for. Ideally, it would be true love, but I would even settle for at least getting to know and like each other before jumping into bed."

"So, you want me to wait until my wedding night or something?"

"Oh, goodness, no. But I would just hate it if you started having casual sex. Especially if you're going to go cruising through public restrooms or something equally distasteful." She shuddered.

"Don't worry, mom. I wasn't planning on doing that. I guess I'm a romantic at heart as well, because I'd like nothing more than to have sex with someone who loves me."

"And someone you love back, I trust. I don't want you using some poor boy who falls prey to your charm..."

"Yeah, right mom. Whatever you say." I replied, rolling my eyes. Again with the rose-tinted glasses. What does she see when she looks at me? A crime-fighting superhero playboy? Did I mention that I totally love Batman? And Iron Man too, even if he's a bit of a fascist.

"Right. But, again, I understand that you have your needs, so I did get you something to tide you over until you find that special someone." She handed me a plain paper bag. I reached in and pulled out a cream-colored dildo.

I dropped it like it was hot and started to sputter. "M-m-mom...I...You..."

"It's anatomically accurate, too. About average in size, because, let's face it, unless you get EXTRA lucky, average is what you'll get in real life as well. I'd have given you my vibrator, but I don't think such things are recommended when it comes to second-hand transactions."

"Oh, God, that is...I really did NOT need to hear about your friggin vibrator."

"Oh, don't tell me you didn't hear the noise at night sometimes. What, did you think I was using the blender in my room or something?" she laughed. I gagged.

"And what makes you think I'm a bottom, anyway?" I enquired, getting defensive.

"Oh, don't get offended, dear. God gave men prostates in order to enjoy anal sex. I think you'd be foolish to pass on it. I think being versatile is the way to go. And you can masturbate in order to simulate..."

"Mom, please, for the love of all that is sacred, STOP!"

"Oh, don't be such a prude." I buried my face in my hands. "Fine, I won't go into more details. But I will say that anal sex is enjoyable for both parties, and this..." she said, taking out the dildo "...will help you practice. Now, if you wish, we can discuss safe sex as well. I assume you know all about prophylactics. You'll find a box of condoms and lube in that bag as well."

"Kill me now." I groaned.

"You are such a drama queen. Here you are." She pried my right hand away from my face and placed the dildo in it, then handed me the bag, which I took in my left hand. "Now scoot. I need to prepare lunch."

I walked up to my room in a daze. I'd never been so embarrassed before in my life. Well, there was that one time in the school locker room...As I passed my sister's room, she cracked open her door and peered outside, her eyes settling on the dildo in my hand. She opened her mouth, no doubt to deliver a scathing remark, but she must've thought better of it, because she just shook her head and said "I don't even want to know" then closed her door, probably going back to her evil incantations.

When I entered my room, I nearly crapped my pants as Terry appeared in front of me, smirking.

"So, you're gay, huh?"

"What makes you say that?" He stared at the dildo and gave me a "you're shitting me, right?" look. "Yeah, okay, you got me. Just one more thing for you to make fun of me. If you could, that is..."

"Actually, I can. But more on that later."

"What?"

"I have no problem with you being gay. Different strokes, you know. Whatever floats your boat."

"You're being awfully...adult about this."

"Well, personal experience helps."

"What do you mean?"

"Umm...some other time, man, okay? It's not really my business to say, anyway."

"But you're dead. You are now released from any and all vows of secrecy."

"Well, when I take something with me to the grave, I mean it. Now, moving along. You need to see something." He pointed to my desk, where a thin leather envelope was placed. It looked almost like one of those fancy journals. Which reminded me to find a better hiding place for my diar...journal.

"What's that?"

"Call it an Idiot's Guide To Having Your Own Ghost."

"What do you mean?" I asked, curiosity propelling me towards the desk.

"Well, apparently, the guys upstairs don't want you to play me like an yo-yo."

"Then what fun are you?"

"This isn't supposed to be fun. For either of us..."

"What do you mean? I thought it was a punishment for you."

"It is, but not exclusively. Look, just read the damn thing."

"I will, but if this turns up to be a prank that my sister thought of and she drugged me and I'm hallucinating, I'm gonna kick her ass."

"Hey, it's your sister. What do I care?" he shrugged. "Just read the thing. It's not long.

"I still can't believe I'm doing this. Letters from angels? For cryin' out loud! I'm probably lying in a hospital bed somewhere and this is all a coma dream."

"Well, if it is, what harm can it do to read the fucking thing already?"

I had to agree, so I opened the leather pouch and found a piece of vellum, which I started reading.

"Dear Xander,

Think not of this as a punishment for Terrence. He is a good soul. He just needs to be reminded of it. This is very much a test, for you both. He needs to find himself, to realize his potential. It is never too late, not even in death. And he can be of great help to you and through you, Catalyst, to the world. Do what you were destined to do. We will all be better for it.

What you must understand is that souls such as Terry's are all around you. Some lost, trying to find their way home, others, like Terry, with a pure purpose. Others, however, are malevolent. You will always be able to recognize such spirits. Their essence is putrid. The very air around them turns to ice, whereas Protectors will fill your essence with warmth. Trust your instincts, Xander. They will help you just as much as your other senses. And trust Terry.

He will never leave your side. He will never betray you. You are linked now. Help each other and do great things. We will be watching, Catalyst."

I raised my eyes to Terry and stared at him for a long minute, then threw the vellum in the trash. "What the fuck was that crap?"

"Umm, dude, maybe you shouldn't have thrown that away."

"Oh, give me a break. We're meant for great things? What the hell is that all about? And why did they call me Catalyst? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Dude, I don't know exactly. But it's true. They gave me a crash course of sorts. Supposedly, there are people like you, who can see ghosts, and actually use them. Most ghosts get attached to something or someone. A house, the place where they lived or died, a person they loved or hated. But most people aren't aware of it, of course, unless the spirit is so malevolent that its physical manifestation is so strong that everyone can observe it."

"Like a Poltergeist?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"Wait. That thing said that evil spirits give out a cold sensation and good ones are warm. This morning, when you came, you went from warm to cold..."

Terry smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry `bout that. Got my ass reamed for that. I can't act like that towards you. Literally. If I do, I get consumed or something. I'm 100% good...towards you, anyway."

"Okay, what do you mean people like me can USE ghosts?"

"Well, there are guardian spirits, and then there are...well, asshole spirits. People like you, depending on their own nature, good or bad, attract one or the other. And direct their power..."

"What power?"

Terry rolled his eyes and the entire room started to shake.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Stop."

"Okay. With me so far?"

"As ridiculous as it sounds...What choice do I have? Either I'm completely crazy, or this shit is real. Either way..." I shrugged.

"Good. Now, one thing you need to know. I'm not all-knowing. I'm attached to you. I can peer around a corner ahead of you, but I basically know what you know. No omniscience. And I can't stray too far from you. "

"But what about now, when you disappeared?"

"Exception to the rule. I was called upstairs, remember?"

"So, what, I'm stuck with you?"

"Yep. But don't worry, I won't ride your ass 24/7. Like I said, I can't stray TOO far, but we're not attached at the hip either. Oh, and one more thing. While I'm actually supposed to obey you, I still have free will."

"Go on..."

"I'm a guardian spirit. A good guy." He said, smirking, causing me to roll my eyes again. Seriously, all this eye rolling probably isn't good for me. I might go cross-eyed one of these days. "So, you can't force me to use my power for evil purposes."

"So no robbing banks?"

"Sorry. No dice, Clyde."

"So, you're Bonnie, then?"

"I walked right into that, didn't I? But at least I'm not the one with the dildo." The bastard actually made me blush. "Oh, and with free will comes the fact that, while you can make me stop using my powers, like this morning, you can't make me stop talking. Or forcing me to do tricks like a damn dog..." he said, narrowing his eyes menacingly. "This is a partnership. True, a 60-40 partnership, in your favor, but remember. I ain't your damn pet." He growled.

"Well, this isn't fun anymore." I pouted, sinking into my desk chair. "And for the record, I still think this whole thing is too fucking ridiculous to be real."

"Believe what you want, man. But we're stuck together for the time being. So, let's make the best of it." He jumped on my bed. "What's on the tube?" He looked at the wreck that used to be my beloved TV. "Damn. My bad. I'm sure my dad will pay for a new one if you tell him you're a friend of mine."

"Yeah, right. `Sir, your dead son was in my room and used his ghostly powers to bust up my TV. Can I have a 70 inch plasma?' Besides, where am I gonna meet your dad?"

"Well..."

My phone ringing interrupted Terry and I welcomed the distraction. It was Sharon, of course.

"Hey, psycho."

"Hey, Conan."

"I hate it when you call me that."

"It's all out of love, baby."

"Yeah, yeah. So, tell me, are you still on about you killing Terry with your brain?"

"Oh, definitely not. I know I didn't kill Terry."

"Good. I mean, I know about...well, your past, with Hightower and all, and I was worried for a minute there."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm perfectly rational." I said, staring straight at Terry, who had a big grin on his face. "Yep. 100% normal."

"Good. Because, well, tomorrow there's a memorial service of sorts for Terry, at the school, and I wanted to go. I know you never liked him, and after yesterday, I thought maybe you wouldn't go. Attendance isn't mandatory, but I'd really like to go, and I thought you'd join me. Closure."

"I don't know, Sharon. But I'll think about it."

"Good. Then see you tomorrow. Love ya, scrawny."

"You too." I said, smiling. Gotta love Sharon.

"Who was that?" Terry asked.

"Sharon, my best friend."

"The one who looks like she could take on a tank?" I nodded. "Cool. What'd she want?"

I fidgeted a bit in my seat. After all, if Terry and I truly were stuck with one another, he'd have to be with me at the service. Wouldn't that be weird? Going to your own memorial service? "Well, she wanted to tell me that there'd be a memorial service at school for you tomorrow."

"Well, of course. I was extremely popular, you know."

"And modest..."

"Oh, please, modesty is overrated."

"Anyway, she wanted to know if I'd go."

"Cool. Can't wait."

"You don't find it weird?"

"Nope. Think about it. How many people wish they could be in my situation? Well, not die young, but still. It'll be cool to see people crying for me and shit. Oh, Natalie's probably devastated." He announced gleefully.

"Gee, don't sound too compassionate..."

"Okay, so I still have a bit of asshole in me. Death doesn't really cure all, okay?"

"Fine, then we'll go see your adoring masses paying tribute."

"Awesome. Then we need to see about the funeral home visitation and the funeral itself."

"W-what?"

"Well, yeah. I wanna see all my family. You and I didn't really hang together, you know." No shit. "Not exactly the same circles. So, if we're gonna be trapped together, I probably won't have a chance to see most of my family for a very long time, if ever again. It'd be nice to see them one last time and say good-bye, even if they don't hear me." He said. He seemed completely serious about the issue and, for the first time, I was struck by reality. Terry might have been a jerk, but he had friends and family and he cared for at least some of them. He never got to say good-bye. Most of us don't get that privilege, but most of us get to live a hell of a lot more than just 16 years. For the first time, I was forced to confront the real pain surrounding Terry's death and I found that I wanted to do it. I wanted him to see his family.

"Okay, dude. We'll check it out tomorrow." I said, smiling.

"Awesome!" he exclaimed. "I really wanna see my cousin Jordan. I'll miss him most of all and I think he'll miss me too. He's a great guy. I think you'll like him." Terry grinned broadly. "He's hot as hell, too..."