It’s an empty feeling to loose a part of your soul. There is eternity spread out before you, yet you cannot touch it. It eats away at your mind and body, until the fact that you have lost part of your soul causes you to die, or to kill.

“I want you to be a man.”

Over and over in his head. Lucas could hear his father’s words. Not manly enough for his father. Didn’t want to be some kind of ‘girly man’ did he? Wouldn’t please father.

Baseball. The exhilaration of the training and the smack of the ball against the bat. Too bad Lucas never got much ball on bat contact.

“Get off the field, you fag!” Hunter yelled as Lucas missed for a second time. “Let me bat!”

The coach nodded, “Lucas, come here.”

With a dejected nod of defeat, Lucas dragged himself over to the coach. Hunter passed the poor boy and whispered, “You girl.”

“Listen,” the coach had a deep voice that could either command or put you to sleep, depending on who you were. Lucas was one of the unlucky few who fell asleep. “Lucas, I know you want to be tough. I know that, or you wouldn’t have joined the baseball team.”

“Well…” Lucas was about to say it was because his father had insisted, but he was cut off.

“And I know that Hunter’s been saying some things about you. But you haven’t been doing you best work either, so you know what, I’m going to put you two together tonight, and he’s going to help you. I know you have star material in you, I just know it.”

“Wait!” Hunter had heard the last bit of the monologue that was supposed to be a conversation after hitting the three balls pitched to him. “What’s going on with me and him!?”

Coach smiled his old man smile, “Well, Hunter, you and Lucas are going to meet after school tonight after dinner, and help each other out. Because Hunter, you need to hear this, you can’t pitch worth a bull’s crap.”

“What!” Hunter stood in a state of outrage as the team cleaned up and headed for their dorms.

---

“God damn it, you faggot, can’t you watch the fucking ball!?” Hunter screamed at Lucas that night.

The boarding school had regulations that the boys could only be out of the school before ten o’clock, due to the curfew. Knowing this, Hunter had chosen 9:15 pm as the practice. Fifteen minutes to practice, fifteen minutes to shower, and plenty of time to hang out by himself before curfew was called.

“Oh, go screw yourself,” Lucas called back, feeling himself on the verge of tears.

“You suck so badly, little girl! You stupid fag, I bet your at this boarding school because your dad doesn’t want to deal with a priss like you.”

Inside, Lucas died. There was an intense sadness at the realization of what Hunter had said, then there was anger. Hunter threw his final ball. It was anger that reached out from inside Lucas’s heart and swing with all it’s might, sending the ball flying over the fence.

“Not bad, you gaywad,” Hunter laughed, “I’m going to take a shower. Don’t follow me, I don’t need someone like you in the locker rooms with me.”

---

The shower water was hot and it fogged up the single mirror in the boys’ locker room. Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter saw the figure. “Hey, jerk off, didn’t I say…”

“Strike one.”

Hunter screamed as Lucas brought the metal bat down on his enemy’s kneecap. Blood sprayed across the shower and washed away in the drain.

“God damn it!” Hunter began to cry, “Stop!”

“Strike two.”

Again, the metal bad crashed down, snapping Hunter’s leg in two at the knee as though it were nothing. The blood that erupted from the wound sprayed against the wall and dripped slowly down.

“Stop, stop! I’m sorry, I’M SORRY!”

Lucas grinned, “I bet you are.”

And there was a brief moment of silence as the bat seemed to descend in slow motion over Hunter’s head.

“Strike three.”