Chapter One

"You're here on business?" Rich Kurt asked hesitantly, hopefully, standing at the entrance of the rundown motel room. He suppressed a shudder. The motel had certainly seen better days. "We could have gone back to my place…"

Blaine turned around, already half way across the room. "Unfortunately yes," he stated. It wasn't a complete lie, not that he cared whether he lied or not. "This humble abode was all my boss was willing to pay for while I'm in town. Nice of him, isn't it?"

Rich Kurt was surprised to say the least. It was a crappy motel in an even crappier LA neighborhood. The room was drab, old and in desperate need of a paint job, the outlay unoriginal: there was the grubby looking double bed with sheets Rich Kurt dearly hoped had been washed, the short counter with one stained and cracked mirror, and an old, square box TV in the corner. That was it. He shuddered to think of what the bathroom might look like. It was not exactly what Rich Kurt was used to.

The sound of sirens, off in the distance, suddenly cut through the night. It was followed by someone crying out angrily a few doors down, a door was slammed shut and more shouts continued, muffled only slightly through the motel's thin walls. Rich Kurt stepped gingerly into the room, the inside now far more appealing than the outside.

His eyes ran over Blaine's body. The man dressed well enough, he seemed intelligent enough and by God, he was certainly sexy enough. Rich Kurt would just go with it, live the role and have the one night stand. He wasn't pompous, he wasn't a snob but he wouldn't lie. He had suddenly felt uncertain, something in the back of his mind that had told him he should run and get away while he still could. He glanced over his shoulder. Did he still have the option to run?

His head snapped back round to look at Blaine as he heard his car keys being dropped on the counter. Maybe allowing Blaine to drive his car from the club had not been the best idea. Rich Kurt had only said yes since Blaine had made it sound like the motel was in a hard place to find. Now, with his keys on the other side of the room, if he did want to escape, he would have to put himself right in front of this man who he had let pick him up for the night.

Blaine tilted his head to the side and smiled. "Trust me, I won't disappoint."

Their eyes met and Rich Kurt's insides tightened again at the mere thought of finding out what his lips felt like, or how his slender waist or the muscles in his back felt like under the touch of his fingers. There were also his eyes. There was something in those eyes, something that when Rich Kurt stared for too long, he could feel himself being pulled in.

Blaine, knowing all too well the effect he was having, remained in character. "Come here," he said softly, holding out his hand for Rich Kurt to take.

The hand, outstretched and wanting, was too tempting for Rich Kurt. He couldn't resist it and he closed the motel room door behind him.
Blaine pulled him closer as soon as Rich Kurt had looped his fingers through Blaine's. He ran his hands up and down Rich Kurt's arms, his eyes wandering up and down his body. He shook his head in amazement, disbelief maybe, Rich Kurt didn't know but whatever Blaine had seen, he must have liked it because he then leaned in. He kissed Rich Kurt on the lips and brought one of his hands up to cup the side of his face angling Rich Kurt how he wished.

"We're going to have fun tonight," he murmured still playing with Rich Kurt's lips. It was always like this when he had a Kurt willing and eager. It was part of his plan, part of his plan to allow them to build a sense of security and to make them comfortable before, before he really did have his fun with them.

Blaine guided Rich Kurt backwards towards the motel bed, the one that Rich Kurt had just looked at with horror and before he could question what he was doing one last time, Blaine began to undress him. They stumbled backwards pulling at each other's clothes until they came to the bed and fell onto the mattress together, and now that he was in the moment, with his legs entwined with Blaine's, Rich Kurt all but forgotten the dismal location.

It didn't take Rich Kurt long to realize that he had made the right choice by letting Blaine invite him to his motel room. Blaine was a bit rushed but his actions strove as much to satisfy Rich Kurt as to satisfy himself. Rich Kurt was soon panting for breath, at his complete mercy, begging for him to not stop. Blaine's hands gripped Rich Kurt tightly at the waist and it was all that Rich Kurt could do but not fall face first into the sheets from the force of Blaine's thrusts. Blaine's strength was phenomenal and Rich Kurt came far earlier than he did. He hung his head and let Blaine take him, his mind hazing over as he lost track of time.

"Oh man, oh man, that was fucking amazing!" Rich Kurt gasped when Blaine finally pulled out of him for the last time. He collapsed onto the sheets and rolled onto his back failing to notice that Blaine had shoved the used condom into his pocket once he had tied it. Rich Kurt was too busy trying to recover. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed towards the ceiling. In the end, this hook-up had been amazing. It couldn't get any better.

But it could get worse.

Rich Kurt heard the clinking sound of Blaine's belt and he lifted his head.

"You're getting dressed already?" he asked and then stopped himself. He didn't know Blaine at all and this was a one night stand. Heck, they hadn't even had a proper conversation in the club. Blaine had just walked straight up to him and said, "Do you want to get out of here?"
It was the hottest thing Rich Kurt had ever seen. He had never had anyone so brazen and confident approach him in such a manner before. Rich Kurt had been so taken aback he had only managed a nod before following Blaine to the exit. He had only learnt Blaine's name when he had handed him the keys to his car.

Blaine smiled, kneeled up onto the bed and straddled over Rich Kurt's body. "Don't worry," he said gently stroking the side of Rich Kurt's face. "You don't need to get up. You can stay right there." Without another word, Blaine leaned down and wrapped his hands around Rich Kurt's throat, and started to squeeze.

Rich Kurt frowned at first, surprised but trusting nonetheless, until, Blaine's hands began to tighten.

"What are you doing?" he gasped trying to pull Blaine's fingers free from their clasp.

"I'm killing you," Blaine spoke calmly, so calmly it was as if he was telling Kurt the state of the weather. "You were perfect but you've done your job now."

Rich Kurt's eyes widened in fear and surprise, and the realization that his life could be in possible danger, jolted him into action. "Let go of me!" he demanded. His body began to twist and his legs began to flare and kick about as he tried to move his body under Blaine's in an attempt to get some leverage to escape.

Unfortunately, Blaine's body weight was too strong and his grip around Rich Kurt's neck only tightened to the extent that Rich Kurt was now no longer able to speak. Wild, primal fear shot to Rich Kurt's eyes. He clawed at Blaine's arms as he tried to gasp in the tiniest amount of air. It was to no avail. A minute later, all the life that Rich Kurt had possessed had been destroyed and all that remained was his lifeless body sprawled out over the sheets.

Blaine rose to his feet once Rich Kurt's body was still beneath him. He was dead but Blaine's job was not finished. He bent down and pulled the bag free that he had stored underneath the bed earlier, all of his movements moving swiftly and without hesitation. The zip was pulled down, the opening pulled a part, and Blaine's fingers dove into its insides until they clasped around the handle of the sharp butcher's knife he kept just for this purpose.

Blaine climbed back onto the bed and grabbed Rich Kurt by the scruff of his hair pulling his dead body into a limp sitting position, his strength helping to hold Rich Kurt's weight. Blaine rested the blade against Rich Kurt's neck and started to cut into his flesh knowing in any second, the remaining Kurts would feel it. Blaine's eyes glowed with glee.

With Rich Kurt's head free, Blaine held it away from him, blood slopping onto the sheets. He began to laugh. This was his life, this was his purpose. He could no longer be known as just Blaine. It wasn't enough. He was evil. He was Evil Blaine and he killed Kurts. He killed them for the power they gave to the other Kurts and in return, for the power he received.

His laughter continued, morphing into a cackle that carried itself out of the room, down the front of the motel and across the empty street until it found a car hiding in the shadows, out of the direct path of the street lights. Danny, far, far away from his small home town of Beacon Hills, pulled out his phone and began to furtively tap out a message while Evil Blaine's laughter caused a tingle of fear to run up his spine.

"Don't think I don't know that you're there," Evil Blaine's voice suddenly came to Danny's ears.

Danny's head shot up in horror.

There was no one at his window but Evil Blaine's voice had sounded so close. His hand swiftly went to double check that his door was locked and he swivelled around in his seat to ensure that Evil Blaine wasn't hiding around the back of his car or even more terrifyingly, already sitting in it. There was no one there. But the voice had been so close, close enough for Danny to know that he was in danger. He had been warned. He dropped his phone onto his passenger seat and turned his keys in the ignition. Without even looking over his shoulder, Danny screeched away from the curb and sped away down the street.