Okay, so this something I've been thinking about doing for awhile but I want feed back on it first before I wholeheartedly commit myself to it. I've been thinking about writing a multi-chapter Klaine fic based in the Supernatural universe. You don't have to have watched the show to read this; I'm not using the plot, I'm just using certain elements of the universe.
This is just a sampling of the first chapter. If you'd like to see this actually done, leave me a review or pm. Also, if you like the idea and have suggestions or requests, include those as. If I use your suggestion or implement your request, you will get credited.
Also, this will be the first multi-chapter thing I've worked on. Most of my stuff is fairly short (though none of it is on this account; I kind of wanted a fresh start for this). So please feel free to tell me what you think.
It had been an act of desperation that had led him here, to this dingy motel with the humming, half lit neon sign. Another kid had been murdered at Dalton, this time it was a freshman who had recently joined the Warblers. This was the third student in two weeks and Blaine wanted answers. He was desperate to know what going on before anyone else died. So he had sought out the two strangers who had shown up at each crime scene in crisp suits, flashing FBI badges. Blaine had seen the younger, rather attractive, one at the public library and had tried to talk to him there, but the boy, for he was far too baby faced to be anything older than eighteen, had brushed him off, telling him to mind his business before leaving in a rush, a book on mythology tucked under his arm.
So Blaine had followed him back to this motel, a feeling of suspicion and dread washing over him. What would two FBI agents be doing in a motel? For a minute, Blaine considered the possibility that these two were the murders and they only pretended to be FBI to make sure they were covering their tracks. But he pushed that fear away and took a deep breath before knocking on the door the boy had entered.
There was a moment of silence before the slow, quiet shuffle of feet could be heard from the other side. Another moment of silence passed before the door eased open as far as the chain on the other side allowed. The boy from the library glared at him through the opening.
"What do you want?" the taller boy asked harshly.
"I want answers," Blaine replied, steeling himself. "You and that older man have been at every crime scene at Dalton. I would bet that you know what's going on and I want to know too."
The other boy's his body stiffened as Blaine spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about," he managed to get out, voice tense and quiet.
"Oh, I think you do," Blaine said, pulling out his phone to flip through his pictures to the one he had taken the day previous of the boy and man at the yellow-taped crime scene. It wasn't the best, but it was fairly clear that the boy in the picture and the boy behind the door were the same. When Blaine showed him the screne, the boy's jaw clenched and he glanced at Blaine's face with wide eyes before hurriedly closing the door.
Blained stood there, blinking in surprise. He sighed and put his phone in his pocket, about to turn away when he heard the sound of the chain sliding from its place and falling against the door. A moment later the door opened, the tall boy moving back and gesturing Blaine in.
Blaine entered the room cautiously, glancing around. When he spotted a dismantled gun laid out on one of the beds, he almost bolted, but door had already been closed and locked behind him.
The boy went to sit on the bed next to the gun and began to polish it with an old, stained rag. "You had questions? Shoot."
Blaind nodded, choosing to stand near the door in case he needed a quick escape. He took a moment to organize his thoughts, choosing the most pressing to ask first. "What happened to those kids?"
"They were murdered," the boy answered too quickly, not looking up from his task.
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Blaine snapped at him, keeping an eye on the gun. "What happened to them? How where they murdured." he tried again.
The boy was silent a moment, running the oiled rag over the barrel of the hand gun. "My guess is they are being hunted."
"Hunted?" Blaine repeated slowly, brows furrowed in confusion. "Hunted by what?"
"A werewolf," the other answered casually, starting to piece the gun back together.
"You're joking," Blaine responded with suspicion. What was this guy's game? "Werewolves don't exist."
"Yes they do. They're pretty good at hiding too," the boy said, loading the gun now with a box of ammo he had pulled from an old army green duffle.
Blaine conceded to playing the game, crossing his arms. "Alright. Then let's suppose they do actually exist. What makes you think its a werewolf?"
"It looks like an animal attack and all three victims were missing their hearts."
"What do their hearts have to do with anything?"
"Werewolves eat the hearts of their victims," the boy explained, looking up at Blaine for the first time. "Therefore, those students were most likely attacked and killed by a werewolf. However, there haven't been reports of werewolves in this area for years, so it's either a rogue or something else."
Blaine shook his head and flailed his hands up in defeat. It was obvious he wasn't going to get any really answers from this boy. "Okay, hold up. Either you're crazy or lying to me and with the way you've been handling that gun, I'm voting crazy." Spinning around, he fumbled with the lock and the doorknob for a moment before bolting out of the room, leaving the boy huffing in annoyance behind.