Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/358632.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Oz_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Chris_Keller/Vern_Schillinger, Chris_Keller/OMC
  Character:
      Chris_Keller, Vern_Schillinger
  Additional Tags:
      Child_Abuse, Parent/Child_Incest, Rape, Violence, Murder, Prison, Pre-
      Canon
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-03-08 Words: 2441
****** Five Things That Created Killer Keller ******
by belonginthedark
Summary
     Little bit of background on how Chris Keller came to be the monster
     he became, there's a mention of Lardner at the end.
Notes
     Lots of backstories at OZ seemed so rich and was left unsaid so what
     better a universe to play with.
     Not the most graphic I've ever written but there's mentions of some
     dark stuff, language and Vern's there so expect some racist epithets
 
                                                                                    5
things_that_created_Killer_Keller




Prologue

‘Inappropriate’ that was the word that his social worker had used
‘Violated’ was the word the lawyer had used
‘Unbelievable’ was the word his mother had used
‘Faggot’ was Uncle Karl’s response
‘Prince’ was the word his Daddy had used

The social worker had her firm but sad tone
The lawyer’s tone had been colder
His mother’s tone had been anguished, hands raking her hair
Uncle Karl’s had been dripping contempt
His father’s had been slurred, as soft and stealthy as his footsteps when he
sneaked from the bed he shared with his wife across the hallway and into his
son’s bedroom











1._When_a_Mommy_and_Daddy_love_each_other_very_much;





Chris Keller couldn’t remember when the first time was, how old he had been
when his Dad had first woke him up with the familiar ritual of stroking his
hair, his weight pulling Chris’s race car bed down on one side.
“My boy” he would murmur “my little prince”
His hand would leave Chris’s hair (shiny and dark like his mothers) trace his
soft skin (golden like hers too) and gently turn him over to gaze into his big
blue eyes (no doubt about it, those were his Daddy’s eyes)
“We gonna do something special but it’s gotta be between us guys, you’re mama
can’t know”
His scotch breath would gently mist Chris’ face and he would lift the blankets
and slide in beside his son, sliding both their pajama bottoms off.

It only happened when Daddy drank but when the warehouse he worked in closed
down that was all Daddy did, it was only a matter of time before someone
noticed, in this case it was Uncle Karl who came round to see his brother and
found his excuse for being in bed with Chris while his wife was out
unsatisfactory.




2._I_always_knew_he_reminded_me_of_someone;


 
 
Even 7 years after his father’s incarceration Chris still told everyone that
his Daddy loved him, Daddy had never hurt him or at least he didn’t mean to.
Daddy had tried to make him feel good. He maintained this up until his Uncle
Karl had yelled at him that if he liked what his Daddy had done to him so much
he was a faggot and a freak like his father was. Chris had never felt shame or
embarrassment from the abuse up until that point, the dreams he had of his
Daddy made him mess his pants and his sheets but that was natural right? Wasn’t
he supposed to have these whatists?….nocturnal emissions?! He had been told
that it was all a part of growing up.
If it made his Uncle mad maybe it was unnatural,  His Uncle Karl had used the
word ‘faggot’ all Chris’s life, he also liked the words ‘kike’ and ‘nigger’.
Chris didn’t know what any of those words meant when he was little and now he
knew he didn’t agree with them but he had a grudging respect for Uncle Karl, he
was a man who demanded respect and who knew about more or less everything,
despite how redneck he seemed in his personal belief’s he was deceptively
intelligent and could argue with the best of people why his disregard for
minorities was rooted in facts, why Hitler’s ‘Mein Kampf’ should be considered
the same as ‘Stride Toward Freedom’ and ‘A Chicano Struggle’.
Maybe not a man to model yourself on but definitely not a man to be
underestimated, he was, after all, the man that had alerted his sister-in-law
to the fact her husband may be a little too close with his young son.
If he believed Chris’s desires were wrong maybe they were but if he was normal
the rest of the time (otherwise Uncle Karl wouldn’t like him the rest of the
time) if only his lust for guys was wrong (after all Uncle Karl’s garage was
full of pictures of naked women) then maybe it was these faggots that were to
blame for the feelings? Chris liked looking at naked women but naked men too,
he‘d been touched by a man and Uncle Karl hadn‘t so it made sense it was when
another man touched you because he wanted you it was his fault that you felt
horny for him.
His father liked boys so he had made Chris like boys too.
Maybe if the first time Chris had been touched had been by a woman then he
would like women more.









3._Never_underestimate_the_importance_of_a_good_teacher_Pt.1;
 
 
 
He knew it was unlikely he would get a girl to let her touch him, even now he
was fifteen he was one of the smallest, weakest boys in school, always picked
last and bullied because everyone knew what his father had done to him when he
was little. He was conflicted by his hatred for the popular kids, he despised
them and yet, he wanted to be them. His life would be so simple, maybe if he
had the body, and then if they didn’t accept him, he could beat them the way
they beat him.
Coach Walden had shown him how, he wasn’t the red faced bellowing type of coach
that you saw on the TV shows, he was quite young and calm. He tried to protect
Chris from some of the bullying in gym class.
In dodge ball kids would make stupid ball jokes (“Why’dya miss that one Keller?
Thought you’d have plenty of experience handling balls“- yeah ha fucking ha)
and Chris would leave the room silent and stony faced. He had been having
nightmares around that time and had fallen asleep at the top of the stairs of
the PE wing, near the long locked up bathrooms. It had been a place to hide for
Chris since his first week when the only other outcast in school had shown it
to him before she and her parents moved away.
He woke up to hear the last bell ringing and had bolted downstairs, if he got
caught after the last bell he would be in detention and the teacher in charge
of detention was likely to leave them alone while he went for a smoke, Chris
would be left with whoever else was there..not something he relished.
At the bottom of the stairs he catapulted into Coach Walden who had said he
would help sneak Chris out if he waited for a little while in his office.
He sat Chris down and disappeared to another room,
Chris liked to look at the pictures of people’s families, trying to understand
why they were happy and his family were so fucked up, plus reading people gave
him an advantage. Meant that he never had to endure any of Uncle Karl’s rants
as well.
There were no pictures of kids on his desk, no wife and now Chris thought of it
he had never seen any girlfriend waiting in her jetta to pick him up by the
kerb after school (Chris didn’t like to go home anymore, Mom spent most of her
time totaled on antidepressants)
Coach Walden came back dressed in his regular clothes and helped Chris to sneak
out and offered him a ride home, instead Chris asked to be dropped at Uncle
Karl’s place, he was always ashamed of where he lived, the garden had been
pretty once but, like the rest of the house, Chris’ mother had let it go.
On the ride home Coach Walden explained that he to had been a weak kid, he told
Chris that wrestling had been the only sport he felt at home with.
One of the nights that Chris had been generally screwing around on his own, not
one of his dark nights when he roamed around with his penknife til he got hold
of an alley cat, just a night where he would wander and try to focus on what he
would do when he was able to get out on his own  he saw Coach Walden with some
other guy that Chris didn’t recognize.
They walked to the door of a bar that Chris knew by name and from being spat
out from between Uncle Karl’s clenched teeth,
So Coach Walden was a fag…if this wasn’t good for blackmail, it was a good
bargaining chip. Hadn’t he always been Daddy’s little prince when he played the
game well?






4._When_people_won‘t_listen_you_should_make_them;



 
Danny Morris, big fucking man at school and a thorn in Chris’ side since grade
school. He was Mr Big Shot varsity guy, letterman coat, cheerleader girlfriend,
rich family, the works.
Fuck you Danny, some day my man, some day. I’ll be rich, I’ll have chicks
everywhere, I’ll always be the one in control.
“Well , if it isn’t Chrissy the Sissy…Hey, don’t worry you can thank me for
getting that fag coach fired. You must love getting it in the ass”
He punched Danny hard in the face and slammed him face first into the shower
wall, intending to use his wrestling moves to break Danny’s arm but with
Danny’s arm up his back, Chris could his muscles bunching, the water running
down his back,
Chris’s eyes followed the rivulets down Danny’s back and down his ass there was
a feeling,  a twist of desire in his gut.
His head pounded and his eyes felt like they were liquefying in his skull, he
could barely breathe as he felt all the blood surge straight to his dick.
He hooked his leg, lifting his knee and crashed his foot down into the back of
Danny’s calf, Danny fell down onto his hands and knees, sobbing a little at the
pain.
It seemed so natural to just use the water as lube and stick his cock into the
tight little hole that was presented before him, he enjoyed the howl from
Danny’s throat and felt his pulse beat faster as he saw the blood run down from
where his cock was, down Danny’s shaking thighs and across the tiled floor.
He bore down with all his weight, feeling flesh tear over his stiff dick and
rutting harder and harder til he came. Victory flooding his mind, blood
flooding his mouth as he bit down on his lip.
He pulled out of Danny, looking down at the crying mess he felt rage, pure
white rage;
“Waaah! waaah! Fucking hell, stop that bawling. I went easy on ya there if you
want it to hurt I can see to that” shocked at the tirade he didn’t remember
ever hearing but that had actually come from his father’s first drunken trip to
his son’s bedroom.
“You’re so fucking dead” Danny had sobbed into the tiles
Chris felt dread seep into his stomach and ran…what the fuck had he done?






5._Never_underestimate_the_importance_of_a_good_teacher_Pt.2;



 
Assault charge- Danny had squealed about the physical assault but not the
rape…who would? Unfortunately a random guy was trying to prove himself and
tried to shank Chris, turning the guys strength back on him he managed to turn
it back and bury it in the guys heart.
Capital murder- Maximum security, upstate Lardner here I come.
On his first day he met the guy he had been bunking with, a black dealer called
DeShawn. Nice enough guy and he introduced Chris to his friends. Couple of
comments about the fact he was white and the usual insults that people trade
but all in all he couldn’t believe his luck that on his second day he had
already made friends.   
The third day he was given his work detail in the cafeteria, serving all the
other inmates. He looked up to ask the guy whether he wanted the brown slop
gravy on the grey slop offcuts or not when the words died in his throat…guy was
maybe 5’10 or so, thinning white blonde hair, eyes that were so blue they were
almost clear, snow pale skin, in short he was Uncle Karl all over again.
“Well, well, well, look here, new boy. Hey there, I’ll take some of that” he
smiled, revealing his crooked teeth, then pointed at the ladle “That in your
hand, boy”
Chris ladled the slop onto the crap and watched as the guy winked before moving
down the line.
The guy looked like Uncle Karl but..there was a word that Chris didn’t have the
vocabulary to describe, a draw, the sort of guy that you noticed.
On the fourth day a guy came to talk to Chris, he told him that his boss wanted
to talk to him.
Curious, Chris followed the guy who stopped at the cell of guy who looked like
Uncle Karl,
“You?”
“Yeah, I‘m Vern, Vern Schillinger” the guy said with a nod at the cells further
down “Bet you’re glad to be away from those monkeys”
“I’m doing fine with them, pal. Whatever you‘re selling, I ain‘t buying” Chris
said coolly, trying to gauge the other man
“Doing fine for now” The guy raised his brows like a parent humoring a
headstrong child “ I’m killing one of their buddies tonight and after that
those niggers’ll be after any white guy they see”
Chris was drawing a blank still “Yeah, well no offense but I think I’ll ride
this out all by myself”
“I’ll be waiting” Vern smiled
As Chris left Vern walked over to the guy “Make sure that everyone thinks that
he did it, make sure that he has no choice other than to come here. I want that
boy”
The guy smiled, knowingly and left.




Epilogue

‘Unlikely’ that was the word that the guards used when asked if anyone knew who
did it
‘Motherfucker’ was the word DeShawn had used
‘Done’ was the word the Aryan who did the deed had used
‘What do I have to do’ was Chris’ response
‘Mine’ was the word his new Daddy had used

The guards had their jaded tones
DeShawn’s tone had been angry
The Aryan’s tone had been bland, the voice of a man used to these things
Chris’had been whispered with slowing dawning understanding as Vern’s hands
pressed on his shoulders
His new daddy hadn’t spoken a word, just expected Chris’ total and utter
submission, young body and old soul signed over to Vern who’s soft and stealthy
footsteps sneaked from the bunk above Chris’ down, creeping inbetween the
covers and breathed hot air into the shell of Chris’ ear as he slipped Chris’
pants down.
 
 
                                                                             
The End
 
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