Title: Scarlet Heart

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Kurt/Blaine

Spoilers: None

Warnings: mild scenes of gore, vampires

Summary: To the outside world Dalton seemed like a regular exclusive private school, only Dalton had very strict entry policies. The only students admitted into Dalton were those who knew of vampires, were attacked by vampires, or worse, orphaned by them.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, as we all know, for my name is not Ryan Murphy.

Authors Note: So thanks to Glee I got side-tracked from Glee fan fiction, if that makes sense. My bunny for 1624 ran away so if any of you see him please return him to me. But I'm still working on that story and hope to update it soon, if the bunnies will cooperate. Anyway, until they do here's a short vampire snippet that popped into my head. This will probably only be about five maybe six chapters long. So I hope you all enjoy. ^_^

Scarlet Heart

Blonde hair feel over a tear stained face, before another scream erupted through the house. The girl whimpered, tears running down her face as she pulled her knees to her chest into the fetal position. Her father had shoved her into a secret room, telling her to stay quiet no matter what. Told her not to breathe audibly but that was hard. It was so hard.

Another scream followed by a loud dull thud met her ears and then there was silence, not even the creek of floor boards. No footsteps were heard but she knew by instinct she couldn't move, it just felt like someone was still here. She jumped as nails slid against the walls, echoing eerily in her confinement.

"Ba-dump goes the beating heart," a voice she would place to a young woman cooed out. "Hard against a ribcage, full of flowing life. A metronome of life."

She stiffened as the fingers slid past her hiding spot and away.

"Silence is golden, but fear roars in my ears," the voice taunted from afar. A door opened and closed and she let out a sigh of relief. Crawling to the entrance of her hiding spot she pressed her ear to it, listening closely. Not a sound. "And thus, she breathed her last breath."

The girl screamed as her ankle was grabbed and she was dragged into the dark abyss.

-o-o-o-

"-derson. Mr. Anderson, are you listening?"

The dark haired male looked up in surprise as his colleagues chortled around him. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about something."

"Oh? Care to share, since it seems more important than a lesson on survival."

Averting his eyes he looked at his other five classmates before shaking his head in the negative and picking up his pen."As I was saying, four bodies were found mangled and drained of blood. As usual the police ruled it an unusual animal attack. However, the Pierce's were composed of five family members; Father, mother, two sons ages 18 and 15 and a 10 year old daughter."

"But only the mother, father, and sons were found, correct?" Rachel Berry, the class show-off, called out.

"That's right. Some believe the girl's body may be found, others believe she may have been turned, there's even the theory that she maybe being used for a personal blood bank. Now normally students aren't allowed on hunts like these. However, the top two students will be given the chances to examine the scene and possibly have a chance at hunting their first vampire."

The other students in the class cheered while Blaine was left staring off into the distance. Not that the idea of killing a vampire didn't appeal to him, it did, but there was something wrong. This was a family kill which meant one vampire did not do this, and if they did they had to be at least 125 or older, as younger vampires tended to flock. Any professional or student knew it was best to avoid elder vampires, they were crafty and very well aware of their own bodies and abilities. Newborns were simple kills. They had no control over their speed or strength, did not know how to use their hearing to the best of their ability, and still believed the sun would fry them quicker than an egg.

"Mr. Anderson, are you listening?" their teacher asked again, not happy with being ignored.

"Sorry, I was just thinking. You're letting students on this hunt which means you assume it's a pack."

The teacher nodded. "At least four vampires, one for each. A single vampire for a family of five would either be an elder or a glutton."

"Or a pure-blood," Blaine suggested, hearing the other's breaths catch.

His teacher was not amused. "Mr. Anderson, entertaining the thought of a pure-blood is ludicrous. There are theories that suggest a female vampire can become pregnant thus giving us dhampirs, but a pure-blood, the thought is laughable. Vampires are dead. They are nothing more then reanimated killers, Mr. Anderson."

"That's why we administer a smack down on them," Santana Lopez smirked, examining her nails.

"Blaine, some of us taking hunting seriously," Wesley Davis sighed, flipping through his notebook and making notes. "Some of us lost our families to these creatures."

"I understand that Wes. If you forgot, my family was taken from me."

"That's right," Noah Puckerman spoke up. "He claims Hummel did it. Killed his entire family but left him alive," he jeered, earning titters from the others.

"No offense, dude, but it is kind of out there. Didn't Hummel live in like 1779 or something like that?" Finn Hudson jumped in.

"He was born 1669. Records state his death 16 years later in the spring of 1685, he was a peasant boy during that time. A teenager under the same name entered the royal court as the Princess of England's consort in 1782, he held the position till 1789 when a stable boy pointed out that he was not aging as he should. By winter of 1790 it was like he did not exist except in the Princess's writings and many believed she had imagined him."

"You've done your homework," their teacher said, only slightly impressed. "Kurt Hummel, born in 1669 to Burt Hummel and Elizabeth Hummel in the Virginia colony. He suspected master is unknown. Kurt Hummel is an immaculate malicious vampire. He toys with his victims till their last breath and leaves no mess in his wake, and never spills a drop. He's vicious, deadly, and said to be extremely beautiful. Mr. Anderson, if Kurt Hummel was the vampire that attacked your family, you would not be sitting here today. He leaves no survivors."

Blaine sighed, he knew that. He knew Kurt Hummel as well as one could. Kurt Hummel was his obsession. Kurt Hummel was his drive and he was going to be the one to bring that vampire to his knees. Blaine knew he was the only one that realized something amiss with the retelling of Kurt Hummel's past. How could Kurt Hummel be born 25 years before his supposed father?

"-Written test will be tomorrow, field exercises Thursday. You're dismissed."

-o-o-o-

Blaine collapsed onto his dorm room bed, arms behind his head, staring up at his ceiling. Why did they all mock him? True all the books said no one survived an encounter with Kurt Hummel but if that was true where did documentation come from?

6 years ago a vampire attacked his family landing him at Dalton Academy. To the outside world Dalton seemed like a regular exclusive private school, only Dalton had very strict entry policies. The only students admitted into Dalton were those who knew of vampires, were attacked by vampires, or worse, orphaned by them. He was one of those cases, he'd been 12 when his parents died. Most kids told their stories with a dark setting, usually storming but not him.

It was July, just before independence day. The whole family had gone to I-hop for breakfast and his little sister had complained about the lack of apple juice. Afterwards, they'd gone to Wal-Mart, stopping by one of those tents set up in the parking lot for the purchase of fireworks. His dad was planning to spoil them this year and bought up almost two-thousand dollars worth of fireworks. Blaine's brother had smirked and asked how many he'd get to blow sky high, their dad said if he could behave he'd let him light a few.

Their shopping trip had gone as usual, Maria wanted gold fish crackers and Stephen made a perverse joke about 'plump when you cook them' hotdogs. Their mother ended up with a headache as usual, wondering why her 16 year old had to act like a five year old, and why Blaine was the only one who could behave. This, of course, prompted teasing from his older brother. After waiting an hour in the check-out line they made their way home, Maria running hurriedly to the door so she wouldn't have to help with the groceries.

Stephen loaded up his arms with groceries to prove he could hold as much as possible and challenged Blaine to do the same. Blaine had grabbed the milk and eggs, sticking his tongue out in jest. Their father opened their front door and froze, causing their mother to sigh. But they all saw him, the teenage boy sitting on their father's lay-z-boy, his legs crossed and back straight. He wore a blue coat with black pants and some kind of black boot. He had been examining his cuticles when they walked in, upon seeing them he pushed back his hair, smiling at them.

"I apologize, I saw the door open, and I was lost, I assumed someone was home." He had said, his voice higher pitch than the average male's. Their father had began taking steps backwards, backing them back to the car. He immediately knew the teen had been lying, they triple checked the doors every time they left. That was the first time Blaine had ever seen a vampire's speed, just before their mother could step out of the door they were violently shoved and the door was slammed. "Tsk. Now, I was trying to be nice, but if you're going to make me out as the bad guy. Maria, dear, come here."

His sister had moved immediately upon the man's orders, right into his open arms. The man had licked her neck then before declaring "It's not her." That's when the terror began, before their eyes he snapped her neck, tearing her open and drinking her dry in front of them. Blaine had vomited, and Stephen retaliated, but the teenager was faster. He had Stephen pinned against the door faster than he could blink. Once he declared "Not you either." he tore out Stephen's heart, munching on it like a cracker. The adults were superfluous to him, and after they'd witnessed two of their children's deaths the teenager claimed he was granting mercy and killed them both. Blaine cried, vomited, cried and was just stunned. That's when the man bent down to him, looking him in the eyes.

"You don't smell of fear, you don't even smell human. So it's you."

The teenager had slit his own wrist, forcing blood into Blaine's mouth and fight as he might he felt the warm bitter liquid slide down his throat.

"I'll be back for you, dear Blaine."

They could mock him, laugh at him, but in that small taste of blood he knew what they did not. The vampire he'd met that day was Kurt Hummel, his blood said as much.

-o-o-o-

"I don't understand you," Rachel sighed as they entered the crime scene. "You don't pay attention in class, you're day dreaming half the time, you have these insane ideal about pure-bloods and yet all your test scores are perfect."

"It's not like I can explain it, Rachel, just because I don't seem to be listening doesn't mean I'm not."

Opening the door and sliding under the crime scene tape into the home, Rachel immediately set out to get a feel of the scene. The chalk drawings showed where the bodies had been sprawled, evidence marks showed where the attacker or attackers had stood.

"Definitely a group attack, new bloods, no older than 50," Rachel declared. "Most likely three, a shared kill."

Blaine nodded, examining the house, the room they stood in was the living room, straight off the front door. There was a small hallway off the left that led to a larger foyer area where a wooden staircase to the next floor stood. The layout of the house was odd to say the least but if the family had been happy then who was he to judge?

"Find anything?" Rachel called.

"No," he yelled back, sliding his hand across the wall. Suddenly, he felt a shiver, a sliver of ice cold fear slid up his spine. There was a lingering something on these wall, a lingering prescience. "Kurt," he whispered, remembering that aura, that feeling of dread. He slid his fingers along the plain white walls, closing his eyes as if he was walking in Kurt's own boots. "Rachel!" he called, palm pressed against the wall, feeling what was there.

The brunette ran to him, cross drawn. "What? What's wrong?"

"The wall."

She looked to the clean white wall, sighing, lowering her silver cross. "Blaine, seriously, I was analyzing blood splatter."

"Rachel, the wall," he knocked on it, watching as her eyes widened at the echoing sound.

"It's hollow," she exclaimed, putting her own hands to it. Quickly she felt around, giving small taps trying to get the lay of how big they were talking. "It has to be a hidden room or compartment."

"The father must of pushed his daughter in here and sealed it off."

"But how does it open? Should we break it down or trying to find another way in?" she questioned, before stopping herself. "Blaine, there's one of two things we could find on the other side of this wall. A corpse, or worse, nothing at all."

"Worse, Rachel, would be the little girl now the undead."

Rachel shook her head making a hasty decision and kicking the thin piece of wall in, revealing darkness and dust. She looked at Blaine before ducking inside noting the space was barely big enough for one person. "There's nail marks," she spoke, touching the wooden floor of the space. Scooting over she traced her own hand over them, into the solid wall backing. "She was dragged backwards, still alive, that means there's another way into this room."

Blaine nodded, but truly he had no desire to find the other entrance. He didn't need to see a mangled corpse, even if it was part of the occupation. "Try to find a way to take out that wall, I'll look around upstairs," he told her, she nodded, reminding him to keep his cross close. Telling her he knew, he took off into the large foyer before turning sharply and heading up the wood stairs.

The second floor housed the bedrooms, all untouched, in fact the entire upstairs seemed to be untouched. Not a mark or a sheet out of place. It was to immaculate, to clean for an average family. "Oh shit!" he realized, running down stairs like a bat out of hell. He jumped down them, hurrying to the cubby hole of a hiding spot pulling Rachel out who cried in protest. "They're Hiders!"

Her eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"Look at the house Rachel, it's completely spotless, white, pristine, they're not an average American family. The hiding place where only the daughter was hidden? They're Hiders, that meant the girl was…."

"She's a witch!"

Blaine nodded. "Meaning this wasn't a senseless newborn kill, whoever did this was after the girl."

"But Blaine, I'm sure our professors would have realized these people were Hiders. The sheer definition of a Hider is to, well, hide what must not be found. If they were Hiders, we would not be allowed to easily step into this home, they'd have put some kind of protection against us."

"What if we're needed? The vampire that did this easily could have disabled any protection or the girl herself was the protection?"

Rachel looked up for a moment before turning to exit the hall back to the living room; Blaine followed wondering what had occurred. "Then perhaps this blood splatter isn't random," she suggested looking at the wall. "Hiders, back in the 19th century, were trained to use their blood to convey messages, even during death or an attack. It's possible these Hiders could have conveyed a message in this, if this was their true identity."

-o-o-o-

"Hiders?" William Schuester questioned looking his students over. "Professor Emerson would not have sent you two to this home if it was a case of Hiders."

"There was a hiding place, Mr. Schue," Blaine explained. "The missing girl seemed to be dragged through a solid wall and if this family had this hiding place and specifically hid her. Not only that, the house looked, perfect. Almost as white as an asylum."

Rachel held out her folder to him. "We took pictures of the blood splatter. In the case that they were Hiders we thought they might have left a message."

Mr. Schue took the folder, opening and flipping through the pictures. "What do you think they were hiding? Most common cases are ex-servants or betrayers."

"A witch," Blaine answered, making their professor cough in disbelief.

"A witch? It's very rare for Hiders to deal with Wiccans for the mere fact that our their own witches are very tricky to deal with."

"Sir, I don't mean to speak out of turn, but most wouldn't hear me out on this theory."

With a small nod of 'go ahead', Blaine took a deep breath. "This family's name was Pierce according to the file and in 1683 just before the happenings of the Salem Witch Trials there was a Pierce family that lived just north of Essex."

"Direct descendants? It's possible," Mr. Schue conceded. "The timeline is long enough that it's possible another witch was born into the family."

"They had two known witches in the Pierce family, Clarissa Pierce in 1683 and Abigail Pierce of 1825."

"Witches are born in threes so you're suggesting that young Brittany Pierce is the third?"

"It's possible."

"Then can you answer me this? Why would a vampire need a witch?"

There he was stumped. Why would a vampire need a witch? Why would Kurt Hummel need a witch? "I-uh-I don't know, but I do know that records state that one Kurt Hummel was said to be hunting a witch."

Mr. Schue sighed. "Again with your obsession with Kurt Hummel. Blaine, it's admirable, you have a strong desire to kill an elder, not many hunters are brave enough to even think it, but you have to realize how dangerous he is. He would kill you without a second thought and he'd enjoy it."

Blaine sighed, staring at his feet.

"I'll look over these documents, you two go and get some rest."

"Yes, sir," they chorused without argument, turning and leaving the room. Will looked at the pictures again, knowing there was only one person he could ask for help, and he really hate going to her.

-o-o-o-

"You decide to cut off that cabbage patch of a hair-do, Schuster," one Sue Sylvester quipped as the man entered her office.

"Actually, Sue, I need your help with something."

"Of course you do, everyone needs my help."

"A couple of trainees were sent to examine the Pierce house and think this might be a Hiders case."

Sue scoffed. "No one but you and your horribly grotesque hair are stupid enough to send kids to a Hiders' house." Never the less she accepted the folder, flipping it open and staring at the pictures. "This is Porcelain's work."

"What?"

"Well Schuester you've out dumbed yourself so apparently the massive amount of product you use has seeped into your brain."

"Sue, can you not insult me for two seconds and…."

"The Hiders didn't leave this message, I only know of one vampire that kills like this and he only does it when he wants something. You may patronize the hobbit orphan but he seems to know something the rest of you don't."

"You're losing me."

"Not surprising. This is the work of my favorite hunt, Porcelain himself, Kurt Hummel."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I don't make mistakes, Schuester, this is Porcelain's work."

"Okay, and what does he want? Do we need to scramble a few hunters? Searchers? What?"

"Train hobbit orphan, he's gonna need it. He's Porcelain's next target."

-chapter 1 end-