Disclaimer - I do not own Glee or Scream.

Warnings: Major/Minor character death. Homosexual relationships. If that offends you please leave.

Summary: As the one year anniversary of the death of Elizabeth Hummel approaches, an enigmatic murderer obssessed with horror films is determined to exact their revenge on one Kurt Hummel. Glee/Scream AU. M/M. Established relationship.

AN: This is the first thing I've wrote in two years. My first fanfiction for Glee and Puck/Kurt. The OC's at the start are there for plot purposes only. This is based off the storyline for Scream, however there will be certain twists involved further down the line.

It was a beautiful night in the small town of Lima, Ohio. Dotted around the pitch black of the sky were small glimmering lights in the form of stars. Crickets chirped happily in the warm summer air, their noises floating into the secluded house near the dense forest as one Cohen Walsh was preparing for her planned horror movie night with her boyfriend for their one year anniversary. Completely oblivious to the terror waiting to unfold just outside her patio.

She was about to put the salted popcorn on the hob when the phone started ringing. Her hair, a small blonde bob, danced as she walked over to the loud appliance and answered without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" She answered with a soft voice.

"Hello." Was the reply she had been given ,in a voice she could not recognise.

"Yes?"

"Who is this?" Came the cautious tone over the phone line.

"Well, what number are you trying to reach?" Cohen asked sweetly as her soft features turned curious.

"I don't know."

"I think you've got the wrong number."

"Do I?"

"It happens, take it easy." Said the girl and with that put the phone down. She had just started walking away from the device when it started ringing again. Upon hearing it she turned and answered again, getting slightly irritated. She let out a huff as she answered. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry, I guess I dialled the wrong number." Replied the mysterious and smoky voice of the unknown caller.

She let out a sigh while asking. "Well, why did you call it again?"

"To apologize."

"You're forgiven. Bye now."

"Wait, wait, don't hang up." The man on the other line sounded almost desperate.

"What?" Now he'd peaked her curiosity.

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"They've got 0900 numbers for that, see you." She hung up, and eventually got to starting the task she had set out to do. Walking through the pristine halls of her home she felt slightly agitated that she would get a call on this night, it wasn't unusual for boys from her high school to ring up and attempt to talk dirty to her, she knew she was classed as pretty with her china-doll features, but for them to ring her on the night of her and Adam's anniversary she couldn't help but think it was rude.

Just as she'd removed the tin foil cover and placed the popcorn on top of the oven, the landline rang again, this time she carried the phone with her to the kitchen so she could keep an eye on the popcorn.

"Hello." It came out far more aggressive than she had planned, but the blonde Cheerio couldn't care less.

"Why don't you want to talk to me?"

"Who is this?"

"You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine." It sounded almost child like to her.

"I don't think so." Came out her lips as she got back to shaking the popcorn.

"What's that noise?"

"Popcorn." She cheerfully replied.

"You're making popcorn? I only eat popcorn at the movies."

"Well I'm getting ready to watch a video."

"Really? What?"

"Oh, just some scary movie." Ok, so maybe talking to this guy was a bit easier than she thought and it wasn't the usual 'I'm going to ride you like a camel, baby!' Which was quite a relief, at least his voice had some sort of an alluring and enigmatic tone it.

"What's your favourite scary movie?"

"I don't know."

"You have to have a favourite." The voice was smug, slightly teasing, she recognised. "What comes to mind?"

She thought over her answer, prowling her brain for her favourite out of the many horror films she had watched, idly playing with the hem of her cream cardigan as she did so, just then she recognized the film she was thinking about as the one her and Adam had gone to see in the cinema on their first date.

"Halloween." The Cheerio replied while examining one of the many knifes in her knife-wrack. "You know, the one with the guy in the white mask that stalks babysitters." She allowed the knife to fall back into it's spot as she turned to examine her popcorn, the tin-foil around it already forming into a silver dome. "What's yours?"

"Guess."

Wracking her brain once more, she tried to think of one of the more popular films, one which a stranger would have most likely seen. "Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?"

"Yeah, Freddy Kruger." She happily replied, as she left the kitchen to wander round the house making sure the doors were locked.

"I like that one, it was scary." There was a small pause as if the guy was contemplating what to say. "So, you got a boyfriend?"

"Why? You want to ask me out on a date?" Cohen replied cheekily as she twirled into the living room where the movie she was planning on watching was paused at the opening titles.

"Maybe… Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No." So it was a lie, she didn't care, it was just a little bit of harmless fun with a stranger on the phone.

"You never told me your name."

"Why do you want to know my name?" She asked while placing two books and the remote on top of the TV. She liked staying anonymous, it gave her a tiny sense of danger which was very lacking in the same routine of her somewhat ordinary life.

"Because, I want to know who I'm looking at."

Her face morphed into an expression of shock and fear, her mouth left ajar slightly. Her voice came out as barely above a whisper. "Wh-What did you say?"

"I want to know who I'm talking to."

The faint barks of next door's dog filled the night air, the Ryerson's pet never barked at night. "That's not what you said." Her reply was a bit more stronger this time as she locked the patio doors and turned the patio light on. Displaying her stone-tiled garden with a few white deck chairs placed around her swimming pool.

"What? Hello?"

"Look, I've got to go." An unfamiliar sense of panic rapidly started rising through her body as she turned the patio light back off, covering her garden in darkness. The voice coming from the phone making her shudder and pull the cardigan tightly around herself.

"Wait, I thought we were going to go out?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Don't hang up on me." It was more of a demand than a statement but she honestly did not want to put up with the creepy stranger and hung up as his previous words floated around her head. 'I want to know who I'm looking at.'

Finally when she thought that she was free, heading back towards the kitchen, the portable landline began to signal an incoming call again. 'Shit' She thought to herself before answering.

"I told you not to hang up on me."

"What do you want?" She cried exasperatedly.

"Just to talk."

"Well call someone else, ok." Getting tired of this routine she hung up and walked through the barely lit house, her popcorn was almost finished, reaching out to take it off of the hob, the phone rang again. Her patience finally snapped as she shouted down the phone. "Listen asshole!"

"No, you listen to me you little bitch, you hang up on me again and I'll gut you like a fish! Understand?" The man shouted angrily down the phone to her.

"Is this some kind of joke?" She whimpered while fixating her slightly teary eyes on the tree which could be seen from the kitchen window.

"More of a game really." She crept backwards into the wall as she heard his reply, fear settling into her bones. "Can you handle that? Blondie."

She set off running through the house locking every door she came across till she reached the wooden front door and cautiously peered through the small window at the top of it, after she had made sure to lock and bolt the piece of wood.

"Can you see me?" The stranger teased.

"Listen. I am two seconds away from calling the police."

"They'd never make it in time." Stated the voice knowingly. "We're out in the middle of nowhere."

"What do you want?" The eighteen year old wailed down the phone, the tears that had welled up in her eyes were now falling freely down her face as she wondered what was going to happen to her and why.

"To see what your insides look like."

She was petrified, there was no other way to describe it as goose bumps covered her skin. The teen went to jog down her hall to arm herself just in case when the doorbell rang. Frozen with fear she shouted. "Who's there?" before looking around then stating she was calling the police. Phone in hand she went to dial but the object rung again, causing her to let out a shriek and jump, moving the phone to her ear she allowed the caller to speak.

"You, should never say, 'Who's there?' Don't you watch scary movies? It's a death wish… you might as well come out here to investigate a strange noise or something."

"Look." She whimpered, furiously wiping her eyes with her hands and willing the sobs not to escape her throat. "You've had your fun, now I think you should leave, or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else my boyfriend will be here any second and he'll be pissed when he finds out." The last couple of words were barely audible as she closed in on herself and walked backwards, unknowingly towards the patio doors.

"I thought you didn't have a boyfriend?"

"I lied, I do have a boyfriend and he'll be here any second, so your ass better be gone." She managed in between sobs however it didn't sound the least bit threatening.

"Sure."

"I swear! He's big and he plays football and he'll kick the shit out of you!"

"I'm too scared, shaking in my boots." He taunted. "His name wouldn't be Adam, would it?"

Her face fell, how could this guy know who her boyfriend was? Was it just another jock trying to scare her? Was Adam ok? He was suppose to be there at least ten minutes ago and he wouldn't miss this, she knew he wouldn't. "How do you know his name?"

"Turn on the patio lights. Again."

The light flickered on, she couldn't escape the, "Oh God!" That left her mouth as she saw her boyfriend bound and gagged to a chair, his brown hair that was normally styled into spikes was messy and dirty, his muscular form looked battered and bruised. What the fuck was going on? She went to open the patio doors when the voice down the phone growled at her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Please don't hurt him." She begged.

"That all depends on you." Adam's eyes focused on her, for a moment all she could do was cry down the phone until the caller gave further instructions. "I want to play a game. Or he dies right now."

"No, no!" She pleaded while banging on the glass. "What type of game?"

"Turn off the lights, you'll see what type of game."

The muffled shouts of Adam could be heard as she complied to the demanding voice. "Here's how we play, I ask a question, if you get it right Adam lives. C'mon it'll be fun, it's an easy category, movie trivia."

Her pleads of ,"Please." went unanswered, throughout his telling of the rules. Her life had unexplainably turned into a horror movie, if she made it out alive she would never go to see another one again, she decided, although that looked very unlike at this moment in time.

"First question. Name the killer in Friday 13th."

"Jason!" She squealed, almost positive that she was right. "Jason." She repeated. The man down the phone just laughed at her. "It's Jason, I've watched that movie twenty god-damn times."

"Then you should know that it was Jason's mother, Mrs. Voorhees was the original killer, Jason didn't show up until the sequel. I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer!"

"You tricked me."

"Lucky for you there's a bonus round, unfortunately for Adam, he's out."

When she turned the patio light back on her tears fell even more as she saw her boyfriend, head lolled back, what looked like bloody intestines hanging out into his lap. This was real, she realised, she was going to die if she got this question wrong. She hid behind the TV in an attempt to stay out of view.

"Final question. What door am I at?"

"What?"

"There are two main doors to your house, the front door and the patio doors, if you answer correctly, you live. Very simple."

Cohen grabbed the gold letter opener from on top of her TV, quietly sobbing into the phone, it all came down to this one question, if she got it right then she would live, apparently, but if she got it wrong then her life was over, she'd be leaving behind all of her friends, her family.

She was shattered out of her thoughts by a chair smashing through the glass of the patio door closest to her and let out a scream before breaking into a run to the kitchen. When she entered, the room was covered in smoke, ignoring the fire started by the popcorn she made her way to the knife wrack and pulled out a blade. Creeping backwards towards a wall she peered down the hallway and saw a black-cloaked figure run into a room.

Sneaking out of the kitchen doors she'd made it outside and hid behind the wall, footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the house. Her heart rate reached an impossible level as the organ pounded in her chest.

It was eerily silent, the blonde glanced through the windows only to see the figure leaping through her kitchen, ducking back behind cover again, she looked off into the distance to see what looked like a car driving down the road beside the numerous fields that surrounded her house. Peeking up once again from her place of hiding put her facing the back of the figure, who chose that precise moment to turn around and come face to face with her.

Her scream was loud and high pitched as she saw a mask of white covering the killer's face, black ovals for eyes stared back at her, two black holes for nostrils and an elongated mouth. It was truly terrifying.

Then a hand burst through the window and grabbed onto her wrist as the killer forced his way through the glass door, she swiftly punched him in his masked face, giving her an opportunity to run. She sprinted past Adam's corpse and round the corner of her house, letting out a sigh of relief as her parent's car drove up her driveway.

The ghost face killer burst through the window closest to her, managing to tackle her to the ground, luckily she recovered quickly, however fate was not on her side as the man caught up to her, muffling her cries with a gloved hand, turning her slightly as he raised the knife up then plunged it just below her collar bone.

The pain, the pain was almost unbearable as the steel tore through flesh and muscle, she was flung to the ground and stared at the wound, crimson liquid which she registered as her own blood was pouring out and staining her cardigan.

Using the last of her strength she managed to punch the knife out of her murderer's hand when he pinned her, wrapping his hands around her throat. With one final effort she kicked him in the stomach, effectively getting him off of her. From her place on the ground she could see her parents leaving their car, however they could not see her, she was barely managing to crawl towards them when all hope was lost.

He was on her tail, dragging her to the ground, he raised the knife, ready for the kill. She lifted the mask off of his face before he managed to stab her. Dark hazel eyes bore into her light green ones, she could almost recognise him behind the haze clouding her vision, but all she could see was tanned skin and hazel eyes before her world went dark.

Cohen's parents were already inside her house, her mother fretting about the burnt popcorn and subsequent fire while her father searched for her. "Call the police." Mr. Walsh told his wife. Yet when she picked up the phone she could hear her daughter, barely, but she was there. The older woman's face dropped as she heard the struggled breaths before the phone went dead.

"We'll drive down to the Ryerson's, get in the car." Mr. Walsh told his wife, who reluctantly obliged. Her scream could be heard for miles at what she had saw when she opened the door. Cohen. Hanging from a tree not too far away, with what looked like her insides hanging out, spilling out onto the ground.

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel was sat in his basement bedroom finishing up on his nightly moisturising routine when he saw Noah Puckerman crawling through his bedroom window out of the corner of his eye. Turning to face his boyfriend of two years Kurt gave him a prominent stare. "What are you doing here?" It was a simple question, Noah hardly turned up unexpected before.

"I missed you." he replied, looking straight into Kurt's grey-blue eyes, one of his most beautiful features he thought.

"Kurt, what's going on in there, I'm sure I heard voices." Burt's rumble came down the stairs.

"Shit, shit." Stated the brunet as he pushed his Mohawk-ed boyfriend closer to his window. "Won't be a second dad!" Opening his door slightly he peered out to his father, who was wearing pyjamas, Kurt raising an eyebrow, tried looking interrogating instead of suspicious replied. "Yes?"

"Just letting you know that my flight's been made earlier and that I'll be leaving at five in the morning for the business trip. I'm sure I heard a bang and then some talking down here." Burt informed then accused his son. Kurt kept his poker face firmly in place before answering.

"I was talking to Noah on the phone, and ended up falling out of bed." Keeping a smile on his face he knew he'd gotten away with it, even if the concept was ridiculous.

"Ok then, well goodnight Kurt. Tell Noah he has to come for a Deadliest Catch night when I get back."

"Night dad, I will." The door closed and he turned to face his bed. A teddy bear Noah had won him was perched near the edge of the right side of the double bed, just as Kurt got closer towards it, the stuffed animal started to speak in a very cheesy and squeaky tone.

"Now, that was a close one."

"Noah get out from behind there." Kurt grinned as his boyfriend popped up from under the bed, walking towards him before holding him in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Kurt broke the kiss to ask, "How long are you staying?" To which his boyfriend merely shrugged in response. "Stay the night?"

"Anything for you." Noah, formerly known as Puck replied, before pushing Kurt down softly onto the mattress. Porcelain fingers brushed against tanned abs as Kurt helped Noah remove his shirt. The latter stared down at him, dark hazel orbs showing only love and affection before kissing him once more.

His smirk while remembering the nights events went unnoticed.