Welcome to the rewrite of my semi-popular fanfiction! Sequel will be started soon, so hang on to your blazers!
They found me in the hallway, which, looking back, was a pretty average place for me to be, actually. I had been in the bathroom for a while due to an impromptu slushie attack, which again wasn't that uncommon. But the thing that made it unusual was that they waited for me. Neanderthals naturally have short attention spans, so waiting it out or hiding for a bit worked in a pinch, even in the special case of Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson. Jocks though they were, through and through, they made it their personal agenda to make my life literal hell.
The deal was, I did whatever sick dare they wanted to see me perform, and the football team would lay off me for a bit. The football team didn't hold to this very well, of course, but it got Finn and Noah to limit their abuse to slurs and rude gestures. Those I could handle, and I did, on a near daily basis. Things never got too physical because that would give me proof. Anyway, the dares ranged from rude (stuffing the resident paraplegic into a port-a-potty) to really toeing the line (shoving tater tots into Sue Sylvester's tailpipe- the one on her car, that is). So you could imagine my apprehension when I saw the pair of football gorillas leaning against the lockers across from the bathroom.
The faces of the two split into sarcastic sneers that looked more like confused grimaces as they caught sight of my slightly disheveled appearance.
"Hey, Lady. Got slushied recently?" the mohawked teen laughed, coming over to me and pretending to brush off my shoulder. I bristled under his touch and winced as he gripped it tightly.
"Too bad. But we have a good one for you today. Have you heard of the Hillhouse Mansion?"
To clarify, I did know what the Hillhouse Mansion was. There wasn't a kid in Lima limits that didn't know. Hundreds of years ago, some sort of scientist or something went into there to live for a while. Before that, it had been abandoned, but old records say that people used to hear boards creaking and shadows and stuff like that. No one believed in any of the rumors- until the man that went to live there didn't come out alive. After a few days without a word from him, the police were sent in to find that he had been ripped to shreds. They said it was just some crazy killer taking advantage of an old superstition, but the culprit was never caught. Westerville students often whisper to the Lima kids that they can still see shadows in the windows, and Lima kids report strange sounds, and even someone leaving or entering the house. And every once in a while, someone, somewhere, even if its in the next state over, will mysteriously go missing...
During a short-ish trek to the house, which lays in between the two towns, the two bullies elaborated on the dare. Armed with nothing but a pen and my notebook, I was to stay the night and record anything suspicious I heard or saw. If I made it out alive, that is. I suppressed a scoff. All that this meant was Finn and Noah were curious about the rumors, but didn't have the balls to find out if any of it was true for themselves. As we came upon the house, the dark outline of it looming in my vision, Finn held out his hand expectantly.
He was unusually quiet, even for his level of brain activity. Shrugging mentally, I shot a quick text to my dad claiming that I was studying with Quinn, Finn's current girlfriend. As long as they were friends of Finn or Noah, they would explain away my absence for them. After shutting it off, I handed it to the quarterback. He pocketed it and gestured to the hulking building in front of us.
"Kay, Hummel, you know the rules. Good luck." he stated as Noah hit him in some manly display of friendship that I would most likely never understand.
"Yeah, good luck, Princess." Noah added as they turned and walked in the direction of the setting sun, chortling to themselves. I released a breath in anger like I was blowing fire at them before setting to the task at hand. All I had to do was make it through one night in a creepy, old, totally not haunted house. It wasn't as if I actually believed in that stuff anyway. I hesitantly stepped up to the front gate, open enough to allow a stray person inside, no more, no less. It protested a bit as I nudged past it. At the sound, the two boys whipped their heads around.
"W-woah, you aren't actually gonna do it, are you? I heard that, like, someone died in there once!" Finn called back to me, nearly facing me. Noah jerked him back to a frontwards face.
"Who the hell cares, dude? Maybe the Princess is finally learning what it means to be a real guy instead of a prissy little pussy!" he said, venom seeped into his speech, and seemed to convince his friend, who began walking back home again. Chagrin filled me, the heat of it propelling me over the dead grass of the unkempt front lawn. God, those two…! They were due for some seriously bad karma, maybe one of them would get kicked off the team for doing drugs, or maybe they'd sprain something so they couldn't play. Distracted by thoughts of their possible misfortunes, I didn't notice what I was doing until the fading light of day was replaced with a cold, foreboding darkness. I suppressed a shiver as I took in the grayscale entryway. Just a house, just a house, just a house… I kept up that mantra as I made my way through the ridiculously large foyer, barren of all furniture and coated in a thick layer of dust.
I squinted my eyes as I did I quick 360, nearly shrieking at the sight of a dark, gaping maw across the room. As I nearly had both a panic attack and asthma attack from all the dust I just had inhaled, I inspected the creature closer. My eyes finally adjusted, they revealed that I was closer to the the leftmost wall, and there was a larger than life fireplace on the opposite. Hand over my pounding heart, I continued turning until I was faced with a set of stairs that looked so dilapidated they would disintegrate under human feet. Dread overcoming me, I looked to in all directions for an alternative, but it seemed that the entirety of the first floor consisted of this one room.
Letting out a little sound of frustration, I put my foot softly on the first step. There was a slight groan, along with what sounded like a few heavy footfalls. Wait, what!? Panic steering my body, I rushed up the rest of the stairs in a rush. Too fast, apparently, because on the last, my foot caught and the momentum sent me crashing into the floor. My hands scraped on the wooden floor agonizingly as they shot out to catch me, stopping my face from slamming onto the ground. The loud thud seemed to resonate inside the house, disrupting the deafening silence.
I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, straining my ears to catch a few more, albeit lighter, footfalls. Dear sweet Gaga, someone was here with me. Or... maybe it was a something. I felt sick to my stomach as I was struck with a sudden vision of me, torn and bloody, some malevolent force laughing over my prone figure. Shaking off the pain in my hands, I got to my feet and quickly surveyed the hallway. It was filled with a multitude of doors, all worn down with time, except for one near the right end of it. I darted towards it, fearing that if I opened a creaky door or walked on flimsy floorboards, I would be caught.
I yanked open the door and rushed inside, breathing heavily, and closing it as gently as possible. Maybe this wouldn't be as easy as I thought. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound of my panicked breathing. I heard the eerie creaking of stairs, then silence. A few tense second passed, seeming like hours, before I managed to take my hand from the old fashioned knob. The room was dark, as the only window in the room was covered it what I assumed was wooden boards. I made my way over to it and peeped out through the boards over it. No one was out, especially near this house.
I managed to squeeze my fingers in between the boards, but I met glass instead of the air I expected. How was there glass in this how ever old it was window? I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the telltale footsteps coming back upstairs. Eyes darting around frantically, I spun around and saw a faint outline of a bed. Choking down the fear of spiders and dust and whatever else could be lurking under that old thing, I dived down and rolled. I held my breath, anticipating a cloud of dust to envelop me and make me hock a lung, but the floor was barren save for a few dust bunnies that I could feel on my scraped hands.
My body froze as the door to the room swung open. I didn't even breathe as whatever it was made its way to the window, then back to the bed, creepily mirroring my earlier movements. It stood there for a little while, and I could just make out its feet at the footmof the bed. Just when I began to get lightheaded, it dropped... my notebook and pencil.
"I know you're under there. You can come out, and we can just forget this ever happened. But you need to leave." A voice as smooth as honey that definitely did not sound like a ghost came unexpectedly from the direction of the... person, I guess. I had to squint my eyes as a light clicked on . I hesitantly crawled forward, ready to bolt.
"There, now you should be able to see. Don't you know sneaking into abandoned houses is dangerous?" His back was to me, I noted as I got to my feet, notebook back in hand. I could hear the joking tone in his voice, but there was an underlying tone of harsh seriousness that I couldn't miss. He turned, and my heart stopped.
His hair was a curly mess on top of his head, dark as coal and wild as all hell. Eyes as captivating as his voice, they were the color of amber and contained the look of a much older person. The guy looked around my age, if not younger, and he was a couple of inches shorter than me too. A simple jeans and black t-shirt covered his tanned skin, and they way they were worn and faded belayed their familiarity to the boy. When he turned, he wore a slight smirk, but his mouth popped open in slight surprise and wonder when he saw me. He met my eyes and the look faded instantly, replaced with the stone coldness of a perfect poker face.
"Who are you?" I blurted, clutching my notebook to my chest like a schoolgirl. Jesus. He laughed quietly, barely smiling. But it was something. Then again, why did I care about mysterious gorgeous guy that seemed to be living in a creepy abandoned mansion. What the shit. The guy shook his head a bit and made his way past me, to the window. What, was I unpleasant to look at to something? Had I screwed up my morning routine? I did a quick check on my wardrobe, a grey 3/4 sleeved sweater over a white button up, dark jeans, leather oxfords. Simple, but it was my emergency outfit in case of slushies. After an awkward pause, I tried a different approach.
"I'm Kurt Hummel, and I'm, uh, sorry for, you know, the whole breaking in thing. Do... you live here?" I asked timidly, taking a step. He only turned his head, but I could clearly feel the message- stop where you are. His face was a bit more open that it was before, but his countenance suggested that he was annoyed.
"Not that it's really any of your business, but yes. I do live here." His words were harsh, but his tone was light. He turned back to look out the window at the nearly dark sky. "And I'm Blaine. Nice to meet you. I'd suggest you get home before it gets too dark, though. These areas can get pretty bad at night." I was hesitant to tell him the reason I needed to stay, but maybe he would empathize with me a bit, or at least let me come back early in the morning to camp out for a bit before Finn and Noah came to get me. Since it was a Friday, I could wake up before my dad easily.
"Listen, um, not to be rude or imposing or anything, but I really really need to stay. I'm kind of here on a dare," I could see the way his shoulders hunched. He crossed his arms in obvious contempt, "but it's different, I swear!"
"Enlighten me then, give me one good reason I should let you stay." Blaine said, then seemed shocked at his own words. He shook his head and turned partway to face me. I looked at his face. It almost seemed as if he regretted turning, but I blinked and there was the mask again.
"Well... there are these guys, football players..." His indifference cracked a bit as he turned attentively and listened to me explain all about the twisted game that went on between my bullies and me. I managed to keep cool through most of it, but near the end my voice wavered. I didn't want to admit it, but I was afraid of those two and what they could do to me. I wanted to be stronger.
"You can be. You are. I can tell." I hadn't realized that I spoke aloud until I heard Blaine's soft reply. "You aren't weak. You're human." He shrugged one shoulder and glanced back over his shoulder at the window.
"Stay for the night. Show them just how strong you are, Kurt. Courage is an invaluable tool, and you can face them tomorrow knowing that you completed a task they set in front of you in hope that you would fail. Have courage in yourself." He trailed off, and my eyes brimmed with tears.
"That's probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." I muttered, wiping my eyes. I could see the sadness in his eyes at my confession, and he walked to me. Instead of hugging me or something silly like that, haha why would I want him to hug me, he continued to the door.
"And I don't mean to be rude either, I'm just not very good at this communication thing. My only requests are that you tell no one that I'm here and that you be gone by morning." I nodded to both and offered him a watery smile. I liked the way he talked. I like the way he looked. Hell, I think I liked him. I was left alone with my thoughts when he left, steps echoing through the house. I realized I hadn't properly moved in quite some time, and stretched a bit before I sat down on the edge of the bed. I flopped back on the downy comfortor, pondering that Blaine could very well possibly be a physco. Or a convict. As I scooted back to lay my head on the heap of pillows, I decided that I didn't care. For now, I trusted him, and he seemed nice enough.
Still, I had to stay in my guard around him... something inside of me warned that things weren't all exactly right with him.