A/N Okay, I had an idea for a Halloween story, but It'sNotEasyBeingQueen beat me to it! (Love you, your story was awesome! Everyone should go read Spellbound if you haven't already!) And I'm still working on my other two stories, The Final Bite and Their Love is Out of This World, which are keeping me busy and challenging my creative abilities. And on top of every thing else, I've been super sick this past week, first with the Flu, and then with a really bad chest cold.

So of course I have to go and challenge myself even more by coming up with yet ANOTHER story to work on. I will post one chapter of this every week between now and Halloween. My Treat for you, and maybe a few tricks thrown in as well!

Tricks

Lima, Ohio, Halloween night, 1959

His heart raced as the car speed down the old two lane road, back towards the town limits. He reached up and wiped blood from the gash on his forehead, trying to keep his vision in focus as he raced away from his tormentors. He should have known this had all been a trick when Stacey had asked him to the party. All she had to say was that He would be there, and he'd fallen for the trap.

He'd had a crush on the older boy since the moment he'd laid eyes on him last year. The auburn haired boy had been singing Something's Coming from West Side Story, seemingly uncaring of the dirty looks others were giving him as he cleared the tables at the five&dime off of Main street. The boy had been pretty obvious in his sexuality, and didn't seem to care who noticed, despite the fact that boys like that often fell victim to thugs and bullies.

He thought he had hidden his attraction to the other boy well, but somehow they had found out about it, and had used it to lure him out to the old barn. They had beaten him, and taunted him, saying they were going to hang him from the rafters. He could still hear their jeers roaring in his ears;

"Little fags don't deserve to live!"

"Queers must die!"

"Pervert! Burn in hell!"

He'd somehow manage to get away from them, and had made it to his car, though he couldn't tell you how he had managed it. His mind was a little cloudy. He thought maybe he had a concussion from getting kicked in the head.

He glanced in the rear view mirror, wincing as he saw the headlights behind him growing nearer. He floored the accelerator, willing the car to go faster, even though he knew it wasn't safe on this old road, especially with old Wickeridge Bridge coming up. He could see the rickety old structure ahead. He sent up a prayer that he would make it across before they caught up with him. His house was just half a mile past the bridge. He'd be safe once he made it there.

But it seemed his prayer would go unanswered as he felt something slam into the back of his car. He fought to stay in control, and just managed to remain on the road. He was at the bridge now. The other car pulled up beside him, and he could see the hate filled faces of the other three boys, and knew he wouldn't survive. His only regret was that he had never told the beautiful boy how he felt, had been too afraid and ashamed.

As the other car swerved into him, forcing his car through the weathered old wooden side rail, he screamed out as the car plunged into the rushing current below. "I love you K..."

Lima, Ohio, Halloween night, 2002

"Oh my goodness, look at how adorable you are, Kurt!" The woman gushed. The auburn haired little boy laughed and spun around, the fluffy white tail flowing behind him like a ballerina's skirt.

"Meow! I'm a kitty cat!" He pretended to preen and lick one hand to wipe at the white felt ears on top of his head.

The pale woman laughed again. "A pretty white Persian kitty."

"Can we go Trick or Treating now, Mommy?"

"Not yet, honey. Wait until Daddy gets home from the garage, and then we'll go. It won't be much longer." Elizabeth said, and then had to cover a coughing fit. She'd felt a cold coming on since the day before yesterday, and now it was the full blown thing, with painful chest congestion.

Young Kurt looked at her curiously. "Are you okay, Mommy? You sound like you are sick, and you look like you are hurting. Do you want a hug to make you feel better?"

She smiled at him sweetly. "A hug sounds heavenly right now."

He returned her smile with one of his own angelic grins, and hugged her tightly. "There, is that better?"

"Yes! So much better!" She kissed him on the tip of his kitty cat nose. Just then they heard the sound of the garage door opening.

Kurt squealed. "Daddy's home!"

He ran to the door, ready to pounce on his dad the moment the door opened. Burt Hummel was ready for him, catching him up in his arms and swinging him around. "Hello, kiddo! Have you been a good little boy today?"

"I'm not a boy, I'm a Kitty cat! Meow!" And he licked his dad's cheek.

Burt laughed. "Well, so you are! Did you catch any mice today?"

"Eww! Gross! Of course not!" Kurt squirmed, and Burt set him down as Elizabeth moved to her husband's side and kissed him.

"Someone is eager to go out and collect some candy. I told him he had to wait for you."

"Can we go now, Please, Daddy? Please please please?"

Burt laughed. "Let me change my clothes and we'll go. Five minutes, okay, bud?"

"Okay, Daddy. Mommy and I will be waiting to go!"

Elizabeth began coughing again, and actually winced in pain, and had to sit down. "I'm sorry, Kurt, but I think it's just going to be you and Daddy tonight. I'll stay here and pass out candy to the little ghouls and ghosties that stop by, okay?"

Kurt frowned, noticing how pale and fragile his mother looked. "Okay, Mommy. Maybe when Daddy and I get home you'll feel better and we can sing the thirteen ghosts of Halloween song."

She smiled down at him, and kissed his forehead. "I'd love to, baby."

A few minutes later, Burt came back downstairs, and scooped Kurt up in his arms. "Ready to go, Kitty Kurt?"

"Yes! Bye, Mommy! I Love you!"

"I love you, too, Kurt! Have fun! Bring home lots of Candy!"

She waved them off at the door.

When they returned a little over an hour later, with a pillow case full of candy, the house was deathly silent. His Dad told him to sit down on the couch and watch a movie while he went to check on his Mom. Kurt had just turned on It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, and was sorting through his goodies, when he heard his dad cry out. And then there was the sound of rushing footsteps, as his dad grabbed up the phone, dialing three numbers.

Little Kurt, still dressed in his white kitty costume, listened as his dad spoke anxiously to somebody. He didn't understand everything his father was saying, but he knew he was talking about his mother, and knew it was bad.

When he heard sirens a few minutes later, he understood just how bad. His dad held him tight, rocking him as paramedics swarmed up the stairs to his parent's room. Someone was asking his dad questions, but Kurt wasn't paying attention. All he could think was that he wanted to go to his Mommy and give her a hug and make her feel better.

He had no idea how much time passed. He remembered seeing them carrying his mother down the stairs on a stretcher, and putting her in the ambulance. He remembered his dad strapping him into his seat in the car, and fumbling with the seat belt. And then they sat in the waiting room for what seemed like forever to the young boy.

A kind looking nurse smiled at him, and told him how cute he looked in his costume, and offered him a sucker, which he took, but didn't eat. He couldn't even muster up a smile for her. He was so tired, but was afraid to fall asleep. And then a doctor was there, talking to his dad, using words Kurt didn't understand, like viral pneumonia and collapsed lung.

The next thing he knew, his dad was setting him down in a chair outside a door, and telling him to sit there and wait for him like a good little kitty. Kurt nodded solemnly, and watched his dad disappear through the door beside him. He could hear strange sounds coming from the room behind him. There was an awful beeping noise that hurt his ears, and a rasping sound that reminded him of that evil guy from the space movie his dad had watched the week before.

He could hear his dad talking, but couldn't make out his words over the other noises. He didn't understand why he didn't hear his mother talking back to his dad. Why didn't she answer him?

He began to doze off there in the chair, had just settled his head on the arm rest when a high pitched wail sounded, jolting him awake. He heard his dad crying out his mother's name, and several people rushed into the room behind him, all calling out and making a lot of noise, and little Kurt was terrified. He wanted to go home, to lay down in his own bed, or maybe in Mommy and Daddy's bed with both of them, snuggled together. He hated it here in this noisy, nasty smelling place.

Lima, Ohio, Friday, October 29th, 2010

Kurt hated Halloween and everything to do with it. The holiday dredged up too many awful memories for him. So why had he let himself be talked into going to some Halloween party outside of the town limits that would be attended mostly by the jocks who constantly tormented him? Because Brittany had begged him to come. All of the Cheerios would be there as well, of course, and all of New Directions.

He had refused to wear a costume, though. Not that it seemed to matter, as most of the girls in attendance just wore their uniforms, and the jocks wore their lettermen jackets. How original.

The party was held in an old barn that had been strewn with orange and black streamers and hanging bats and spiders, the ubiquitous Halloween décor. Kurt nearly gagged at the lack of imagination. At least the music was good, he thought, as Katy Perry's Teenage Dream played in the background, although he preferred Lady Gaga.

Kurt had been here for about an hour, and had so far managed to avoid any altercations with the jocks, although Karofsky had sent him a few menacing glares. For the most part, they were all too busy getting drunk to pay him any attention. That was fine by Kurt, who wasn't drinking. He'd learned his lesson on that with April Rhodes and her liquid courage.

He had settled in with Mercedes, Tina, Mike, Brittany, and Santana, all sitting together in one corner where someone had spread blankets over old hay bales to form impromptu couches. They had been chatting about music, and Glee, and various other nonsense for some time, and he had actually been having fun.

"So, have you all heard the stories about this barn?" Santana asked.

"What stories?" Tina asked.

"They say a boy tried to hang himself here, and when that didn't work, he drove himself off old Wickeridge Bridge and drowned. No one knows why he did it. They say his ghost still wanders the road between here and the old bridge."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Please. The only spirits around here are of the Liquor variety."

The Latina just shrugged. "My Abuela told me about it. She said she knew the boy, went to school with him. She thinks he did it because he was gay and couldn't deal with it."

Kurt felt a shiver go down his back, but ignored it. He didn't believe in ghosts, and while the thought of suicide had fluttered briefly through his mind last year when the bullying had been particularly bad, he knew he would never have gone through with it. He couldn't do that to his dad.

He stood and excused himself, stating that he'd promised his dad he'd be home early. His friends tried to convince him to stay a little longer, but he was starting to feel uneasy in this place, especially when he saw Karofsky giving him an evil look. He said his goodbyes, and was making his way towards the exit, when something wet and ice cold came pouring down over him.

He stood there in stunned silence for a moment, as the jocks began to laugh uproariously. Kurt couldn't speak as he looked down at the red fluid running down his shirt. In the back of his mind he knew it was a giant slushie that had been dumped on him from a bucket, but in his mind's eye it looked like blood, the chunks of ice making it seem even more sinister.

"Oh my god, Kurt!" He heard Mercedes shout as she rushed to his side. He could hear Santana and Mike shouting at the jocks, but was too numb with shock to understand what they were saying. He thought he heard Puck and Sam's voices join in the shouting as well, but it really didn't register.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Brittany's soft whisper sounded beside him, and it was the catalyst that had him racing out the door.

Tears were flowing down his face, and he fumbled with the keys to the Navigator, dropping them twice as he tried to insert them in the ignition. He drove blindly down the old two lane road, going faster than he normally would have, not caring that it was unsafe with the blind curves at this time of night.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Why did they hate him so much? What had he ever done to them to deserve this constant torment?

He reached up to wipe away the red liquid that was still flowing down his face from his hair, impairing his vision. He was approaching the curve that lead past where the old road crossed over the old wooden bridge, but the new pavement swerved right towards the new, steel and concrete monstrosity.

He screamed and slammed on the brakes, turning the steering wheel to the right when he saw the figure in the middle of the road. The large vehicle jolted to a stop, and for a moment, Kurt thought it might tip over on its side, before it settled back down on four wheels.

Panting for a moment, he sat there, trying to calm his racing heart, before slowly opening his door to check on the curly haired boy he had barely avoided.

But there was no one there.

He searched the road, and the ditch that he'd almost tipped over into, but found no trace of the boy he swore he had seen standing in his headlights.

"Oh Gaga, Kurt, you are losing your mind now." He swore and rested his head on the hood of his car. "Seeing mysterious boys in the middle of the road. You've cracked! And you're talking to yourself. You've gone cuckoo."

"I don't know, I talk to myself all the time. Sometimes it's the only way to have an intelligent conversation."

Kurt screamed at the voice, turning to face the dark haired boy standing directly behind him. The boy was wearing tight blue jeans rolled up at the cuff, a white tshirt, and a black leather jacket. He reminded Kurt of the boys from Grease. He glanced around furtively, certain there hadn't been anyone there a moment ago.

"Wh-where did you come from?" His voice was even higher and squeakier than usual.

The boy smiled, and Kurt felt his knees go a little weak. "My family moved here from Westerville."

Kurt's heart was still racing from the near collision, and wasn't particularly in the mood for jokes. "I meant just now? And what the hell were you doing standing in the middle of the road! You could have been killed! And you almost made me crash my Baby!"

The boy, who was a couple inches shorter than Kurt, looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. My so called friends ditched me out here, and I was just walking home. I'm Blaine, by the way."

Kurt looked the boy over. He seemed harmless enough. "I'm Kurt. Where do you live? Would you like a ride?"

The other boy smiled again, and once more Kurt found his knees turning to jello. "That would be great, thanks! My home is just a half mile past the bridge."

Kurt frowned, not recalling seeing any houses out this way when he'd driven to the party. As they got into the car, he studied the other boy briefly in the overhead light. Dark brown curls that had been tamed with gel, perhaps just a little too much. Golden orbs with flecks of green that reminded him of fall leaves. A mouth that looked like it was made for sin. Kurt mentally shook himself and started the engine.

"Are you hurt?" Blaine asked him. "You look like you have blood all over you. I'm sorry."

Kurt shrugged. "I'm not hurt. Someone just thought it would be hilarious to reproduce the bucket scene from Carrie."

"Carrie? Bucket scene?" The other boy asked, obviously not getting the reference.

Kurt glanced over at the other boy. "You've never seen the movie?"

The other boy shook his head. "I've been kind of...sheltered for a long time."

That explained some of the boy's odd behavior. They reached the new bridge, and Blaine studied it curiously, and Kurt couldn't help but notice the look of relief on the boy's face when they reached the other side.

"Where exactly do you live?"

The other boy seemed to find the question humorous for some reason. "You can just drop me off at the old cemetery. My home is on the other side, near the old bridge."

Kurt shrugged, and pulled over near the graveyard that hadn't been used in more than fifty years. He shivered as he looked out over the headstones on his left. "It's pretty dark out, are you sure you'll be okay walking through there?"

He turned back to the passenger seat, but Blaine was gone. Kurt jumped out of the car, looking everywhere for the mysterious boy, but there was no sign that Blaine had ever been there.

He rushed over to the fence surrounding the old cemetery, straining to see if he could hear the boy moving through the headstones. There was no sound other than an owl swooping through the trees.

Was he going insane after all? Had it all been a hallucination? Maybe he should talk to Miss Pillsbury on Monday. The strain of the constant bullying was getting to him, obviously.

He turned back towards his car, but something caught his eye. In the light from his headlamps, he could just make out the quote on one of the headstones. It was from one of his favorite movies, West Side Story.

Today the minutes seem like hours, the hours go so slowly and still the sky is light.
Oh moon, grow bright and make this endless day endless night.

He took a step closer, reading the words out loud. His gaze lowered to the name carved below, and he gasped.

Blaine Devon Anderson

Born 7-31-1943

Died 10-31-1959