A/N: This is a re-write, but it's been completely rehashed. Just in time for Halloween :) Slayer!Kurt.
The soft dirt and random patches of mud gave Kurt no traction whatsoever as his feet pounded the ground. He dodged headstone after headstone of gleaming white marble, glowing eerily in the moonlight and reflecting off his alabaster skin, making him look like a specter himself. The sound of sinister, heavy breathing filled his ears, and he knew the monster was close. He didn't need to hear it though. He had performed this dance numerous full moons before. He could feel the animal in his blood. It moved when he moved, dodged when he dodged, followed his prints in the earth step for step, matching his pace.
The animal was toying with him, but Kurt was in complete control.
Kurt veered right, and his foot sank ankle deep in a patch of fresh manure.
"Ugh!" Kurt groaned, stopping a moment to yank his foot free with a sickening slurp. He saw the gloppy mess completely covering his shoe and gasped. "No! My vintage powder blue Converse! They're ruined!" Kurt threw an angry glare over his shoulder. "You asshole!" he bellowed, but started off again so that his pursuer wouldn't gain too much ground. In the dark, where the creature chased Kurt through the low light and the shadows, Kurt swore he heard a deep, menacing chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh now," Kurt mumbled as he reached beneath his jacket and grabbed the gun he had thrust in his waistband. "You're not going to be laughing in a minute."
Kurt loaded the weapon with practiced ease - a skill known by a handful of the high school students in town … unfortunately. In Lima, Ohio, Kurt wasn't alone in this unique skill set. Most of the McKinley High School Glee Club were mages or monster hunters, keeping the night safe for their small, backward town. It was theirs … and Kurt's … duty to serve and protect.
But Kurt was different among them. Special. Powerful. He was chosen. But that's all he was allowed. As opposed to his friend Rachel, who had her eyes set on Broadway after her time in Lima was done, or his other friend Mercedes, already making moves to secure a record deal, or his stepbrother Finn, who would be playing for the Buckeyes after graduation, Kurt had only this. Apparently, hunting monsters was the only destiny life had planned for him. Every other dream he had growing up had been stolen the day he turned sixteen and became the Slayer. It was a mantle he'd inherited from his mother, who had been a Slayer herself. His father didn't warn him. He figured that if Kurt didn't know, maybe they'd get lucky and the Slayer line would pass over him. Then Kurt could have a normal life, not like his mother's.
A life that took her childhood away, forced her to spend all her free time training for the day she would realize her destiny.
Not the life that eventually killed her.
But no such luck.
Kurt started his training late in the game, but that didn't seem to matter. He was a natural.
A born killer.
Kurt had scored more kills in his short time as protector of Lima than most career hunters do in their lifetime – except for this one. This creature, the one that pursued him tirelessly through the cemetery, was Kurt's responsibility and Kurt's alone.
And part of Kurt's job was protecting him, too.
Kurt hurdled over a larger stone, and heard more groans and breathless pants. Shit! He thought. There's another one! Fuck! Not now! I can't deal with two of them right now! He stopped short, standing stone still to track the sound, his mind whirring with fight and escape plans. He scanned the headstones with his eyes over to one of the far graves … where two half-dressed teenagers were going at it, locked together at the hips and moaning into the night.
"Oh … just … yuck!" He grimaced, waving his hands in front of his face to try and dispel the image. "This is a cemetery, for Christ's sake! What's wrong with you people?"
He sighed in frustration. Stupid horny teenagers! Now he'd have to hang back and wait, make sure that the creature didn't go after the lovers instead of him. The creature had Kurt's scent in his sinuses. He wanted Kurt - badly. But the temptation of an easy snack might be too hard to resist. Kurt schooled his breathing, trying to keep himself centered, clear-headed. Once the creature saw him and Kurt got his undivided attention, he would need to act quickly to get him back on track. He glanced behind him only once to gauge how far his destination was in relation to where he stood. When he turned back, the creature emerged from the tree line. Kurt smirked, always impressed by the size and stature of the monster, his silky black hair glistening in the moonlight, his expressive hazel eyes searching him out.
The lovers didn't notice him, wrapped up in their own little world, but the werewolf saw them, turning on them with the shadow of a grin on his snarling lips.
Shoot! Kurt had a 50/50 chance that he would be the bigger enticement. It made him kind of jealous, truth be told.
Oh well, he'd be offended by that later.
Kurt pulled out the strongest weapon he had in his arsenal against the gigantic werewolf. He bent his neck and howled at the moon. It worked instantaneously. The creature's head snapped back to stare at him, eyes wide, irises pushed aside as lust overtook them. Kurt spun around and ran knowing the creature was right on his heels, his hot breath steaming out the wrinkles in his shirt.
Kurt leapt for his destination. He dodged razor-sharp claws twice, but tripped and fell in somersaults down the mausoleum stairs, cradling the gun he still held tight in his hand. His head knocked the decaying stone steps, his brain spinning in his skull, but he had enough wherewithal to roll into the open cage that had been constructed for this very purpose.
"Keep quiet! And stay out of sight!" he called to the blonde cheerleader he knew hid in the shadows. He heard the anxious scuffling that told him Brittany heard him. A second of silence was all they got before the hulking beast made his way down the steps, and Kurt fought impending delirium to stay awake just a little longer. He snuffled and whimpered, mimicking the sounds of a wounded werewolf. The creature followed the sound of distress to the cage where he lay. Kurt waited until the monster loomed above him, teeth dripping saliva all over the dusty floor.
"Sorry, baby. Nothing personal," Kurt said, raising his gun and shooting the creature in the leg.
The beast reared back and roared, but the tranquilizer worked fast. He fell to the ground, feet pawing at the air in an attempt to get up.
"Brittany," Kurt commanded softly. "Get out …"
"But, Kurt …" The young woman bounced out from her hiding space, her eyes sweeping back and forth between her friend and the werewolf, still lethal even though he couldn't get back up on his haunches.
"I said get out!" Kurt growled. "And lock the gate!"
Brittany didn't want to go. Kurt was reckless – all the hunters said so. He took too many chances, and one day, he was going to get himself killed. Or worse - changed. But she knew arguing with him would do no good. He was the Slayer. What he said goes. So she climbed out of the mausoleum with a single backward glance, and locked the gate behind her.
Thin tendrils of morning sunlight lit the inside of the mausoleum, and even though he should probably have a concussion, Slayer strength had its perks, so Kurt woke with just a pounding headache. He looked at the arms wrapped around him, the naked body curled against him, and smiled. Wary golden eyes looked down into his, and the boy in his arms offered a weak smile.
"You had me worried," the boy said, kissing him gently on the forehead, trying hard not to jostle his lover too much. "I thought this time you weren't going to wake up."
"Well, it takes a helluva lot more than a knock to the head to kill me." Kurt smirked. "I should know. You've tried. And by the way …" Kurt lifted his leg to reveal his ruined shoe.
"Oh, Kurt," Blaine moaned. "I'm so sorry. I'll get you a new pair. I promise. But do you have to wear your best pair of shoes every time you go out at night?"
"No. But we were supposed to be on a date … remember?" Kurt pinched Blaine on the arm. "Why didn't you take your potions? You know they're the only way to stop the change."
"I did take them," Blaine admitted sadly. "I … I don't think they work anymore."
"Obviously," Kurt said, rolling his eyes obnoxiously on purpose. He expected Blaine to tease him back, but when he didn't, Kurt shook his head. "Don't worry about it. We'll just go to Ms. Pillsbury and tell her you need a stronger one."
Blaine held Kurt tight and sighed, and Kurt could hear the gears working in his boyfriend's head.
"Tell me," Kurt commanded.
"I … I think maybe I should go away."
Kurt shook his head and held Blaine closer. They'd had this talk before. They'd probably have it again.
"Blaine" - Kurt tried to prop up on his arms and look into his boyfriend's eyes, succeeding only in resting his head on the boy's bare chest - "why do you come to me when I call? Hmm? Even with all of our mages and hunters practicing the same techniques, why do you come to me?"
Blaine's whole expression changed, his eyes darting sheepishly away. "Because … because you're my mate."
"That's right," Kurt said. "And you're mine. Someday we'll figure out a solution to this, I promise. And if we don't …"
"Don't say it," Blaine interrupted, but Kurt would have none of it.
"You'll turn me, and I'll become like you," Kurt finished. It sounded so simple when Kurt said it, but Blaine hated the idea of Kurt becoming a werewolf, not just because he would be a bloodthirsty killer, stalked and hunted, but because becoming a werewolf would mean possibly giving up his powers, his destiny as the Slayer.
A destiny he was born with - his only legacy of his dead mother.
Kurt held Blaine's head in his hands and turned his gaze up to meet his own. He rested their foreheads together, lips so close to kissing that the slightest motion would have them pressed together, lost in each other's heat.
"I'm never saying goodbye to you," Kurt whispered. Blaine smiled.
"I love it when you talk cheesy," Blaine muttered, attacking his powerful boyfriend, rolling him over onto his back to deepen the kiss even when Kurt groaned.
"So, are you determined to ruin my shirt as well?" Kurt mumbled against Blaine's lips, but he wasn't really mad … well, maybe a little. But a kiss from this gorgeous boy was well worth his dry cleaning bill.
"Oh, baby," Blaine whispered, reaching beneath his shirt with rough, callused fingers. "We have two hours until the other hunters let us out. I'm determined to ruin the entire outfit by then."