Hey guys. Yes I know I shouldn't be starting another story or anything but just had to do this one. So why I have not been updating across the universe is because my laptop had another virus so I had to get it fixed. So the computer guy did nothing but strand it there to gather dust and my step mom had to go down and yell at the guy. So now it's finally fixed and this is a story I wrote in a notebook when it was getting fixed. OH IMPORTANT: DIALOUGE WON'T COME TILL CHAPTER 4. Hope you like it!
Prologue
Blaine could never decide if his favorite color was red or sliver. Red was a warm, moist, and copper tasting substance that he loved getting his hands on. But silver was fast and gleaming. Always making clean cuts.
Blaine didn't enjoy the fact that his mind had been twisted beyond repair. Not one bit. He sometimes wondered why he did it. Then he remembers what his father always told him. For the money. Money, that's why. He eliminated a human life for a quick few grand and then moved onto the next. His life was a constant loop of blood and murder that it couldn't stop now. He wished so hard for it to go back to the way it was; before he became a murderer. He was actually happy back then.
But his dad had to make the stupid mistake of making the deal so they wouldn't go broke. He decided to train Blaine and send him to Dalton. There it thrived with rich kids whose murder would be worth a fortune. And he couldn't take them looking at him. His friends, the fear in their eyes and to know it was him, would kill him in return. So he wears the mask.
He's been nick named the Dapper Murderer because he made his murders somehow graceful and polite. He had been trained never to get caught. Also wear black and move quickly. Hey, even a murderer needs style. So he let his father teach him. He liked to think he was a ninja and defeating the bad guy. But that image slowly faded into what he really was. A hit man. And a dam good on at that. And he had the perfect cover up. Who would suspect incent, sweet, dapper, Blaine Anderson? Perfect record (well that people knew of), Straight A's, lead singer of the Warblers; he's perfect. And no one suspected a thing. That is, till Kurt Hummel came along.