A/N: Here we go! Couldn't be mean and leave you hanging too long. Keep in mind, I kind of still have no idea where I'm going with this exactly so whatever comes out comes out. And this chapter merely started with the idea of Kurt's locale. It expanded from there. Like the summary says, I'll probably be upping the rating from T to M soon, given what uncovered in this chapter. Anyway, enjoy!
Blaine: I'm still mad at you...
Me: Awww, Blainers, Kurt's okay.
Blaine: I highly doubt that!
Voice: He may be okay for now! I intend to change that!
Blaine: Who the hell are you?
Voice: Wouldn't you like to know? *laughs*
Blaine: I kind of would! If you have my boyfriend I swear I'll...I'll...I'll...
Me: *clamps a hand over Blaine's mouth* Okay, that's enough. On with the story. Remember guys, I don't own anything. So sad.
Kurt blinked his eyes open. Where the hell was he? One minute he was holding tight to Blaine's hand and the next…he was being dragged away, his fingernails scratching at his boyfriend's palm. And then he blacked out.
His senses began to gather and he could smell a ghastly smell that was eminent of mold and sewage water. He uttered in disgust.
"Awake are you porcelain?" said a voice. Kurt's head lolled up and he looked across from him. Bars crisscrossed in front of him and across the way were another set, through which Sue Sylvester's face peered. Kurt groaned.
He became aware of the cold cuffs wrapped around his wrists and the fact that his feet were not touching the floor. What the hell? Something apparently had chained him to the wall. He looked at Sue who seemed to be in a similar position in her own cell, except she was standing in the middle of the floor and the cuffs were chained to hooks in the floor.
Kurt chose not to answer her. Instead, he flicked his gaze around the cell and noticed a crumpled form lying in the corner. A torch was set in the cell wall and he was just able to make out the Cheerios uniform on the figure.
"Santana…" Kurt whispered. The figure didn't move. He couldn't see her head. But he noticed that her bare legs seemed to be progressing from tan to pale.
What the hell had happened to her?
"She's lost blood porcelain," Sue said, snapping Kurt's attention back to the woman.
He narrowed his eyes. How did she know so much? How long had she been down here? And why wasn't she hurt?
But squinting across to the woman's cell, Kurt realized that she was hurt. Her skin was rather pale too, meaning she must have lost blood herself. There was a bandage wrapped around her neck. What the hell?
Kurt was about to open his mouth to ask what had happened when the sound of a door opening caught his attention and he snapped his mouth shut.
Footsteps filled the dungeon and Kurt sucked in a breath, cringing when he became aware of how tight his cuffs were. It didn't help that he was hanging from them.
The footsteps came ever closer until they finally stopped in front of Kurt's cell. A man turned to face him.
"Well, well, well, our new play thing is awake," the man said.
Kurt scowled. He was nobody's plaything except for Blaine's maybe. "What do you want?" he spat.
The man raised an eyebrow as he stuck a key in the cell door. After a moment, he laughed, a sound that Kurt cringed against because it was not delightful. He said nothing.
The cell gate slid open and the man entered. Kurt took his appearance in. Jet-black hair and skin incredibly pale, paler than his own even! He had piercing green eyes and lips so light they were nearly white as his skin. His hair was slicked back and he wore a business suit. He opened his mouth in a snarling grin as he approached Kurt and that was when the teenager saw them.
Fangs.
"Vampire…" Kurt whispered. The man cocked a brow and laughed again.
"You're very observant," he said. Kurt gave him his bitch glare. Without a word, the man raised a hand and struck him sharply across the face. "Don't you ever take that face with me again or I will not hesitate to suck your blood bone dry!"
Kurt tried his best to not look afraid, although he was terrified. "Aren't you going to do that anyway?" he asked, relieved his voice didn't shake.
The man regarded him for a moment before using the same hand that smacked him to sickeningly run long thin fingers down Kurt's cheek. Kurt felt utterly disgusted.
"No. I have better plans for you!" he said.
Without another word to Kurt, he marched over to Santana and yanked her unconscious form off the floor. Kurt's terrified eyes found the two little holes in his friend's neck and it took all his strength not to utter a gasp.
And then, the most horrifying thing happened. The man roughly pulled Santana's head back and sank his fangs into those holes. Slurping filled the air and Kurt forced his eyes away as he saw the blood trails dripping down the girl's neck.
Santana was being fed on like she was nothing but a cow. If he got out of this, Kurt swore he would never eat steak again, not that he did that much anyway.
Puck was inspecting the puddle of blood that had been left behind by Santana. The group was all gathered back in that room and had somehow managed to relight the candle.
Going over the statistics, they realized two things. One, there was trouble in this house that was not normal. And two, with Sue missing and Mr. Schue dead, they no longer had adult supervision.
Blaine sat hunched in a corner, arms wrapped around himself and rocking violently. Finn was looking utterly paler by the minute.
There was an old couch in the room and they had laid Rory upon it, hoping the boy would wake soon. They knew one thing. There was no way they were all going to separate now.
"I can't figure this out," Puck said, standing from the blood puddle. Blaine looked at him briefly and returned his eyes to the floor.
"None of us can," Rachel said solemnly. She rested her head on Finn's shoulder.
Quiet fell over them. Aside from Blaine in the corner, they were all huddled together so they could keep a close eye on each other.
As the others lapsed into quiet conversation about what they were going to do, Blaine tuned them out. His boyfriend was missing. The love of his life was missing. He felt like he was about to break in half. He couldn't live without Kurt.
Something caught his attention out of the corner of Blaine's eye and he lifted his head, turning it to look. A boy who looked to be about twelve was standing there. He was stark white and…well, translucent. A ghost. Blaine swallowed in fear. He glanced quickly to his friends who seemed not to notice and then back at the boy.
The boy stared at him for several moments before raising a hand and beckoning Blaine with a finger.
The seventeen year old was not stupid. He was not going to follow some ghost, no matter how harmless it looked.
But than the ghost did something that made his eyes go wide. Using sign language, he finger spelled out a small word. K-U-R-T. Kurt. The ghost had spelled Kurt's name. Not knowing why Blaine thought this made him seem more trustworthy, the boy glanced back to his friends and slowly stood.
The ghost left the room by another door Blaine hadn't noticed before. He followed the boy out. If the ghost could lead him to Kurt than damnit, he was going to Kurt.
A few minutes later, Finn broke the conversation, turning his head toward the corner where they had known Blaine to be sitting. "What do you think Bl…" He was cut off when he noticed their friend was missing.
The others noticed something was wrong and followed his gaze and Rachel shrieked in panic.
"Blaine!" the girl shouted. Mercedes stood up.
"Don't be playing games with us now white boy!" she said.
"Where is he?" Brittany asked in a quiet sobbing voice. Nobody was able to give her an answer.
"He was right there a moment ago, I swear!" Finn said. Panic quickly filled the room as they all stood looking for signs of Blaine, fearing that he might be hurt. But by this time, Blaine had followed the ghost quickly out of earshot of the others.
He had no idea they were calling for him.
Blaine trundled along behind the ghost who led him through another door and into a room that seemed to be a maze of mirrors. What was this some sort of funhouse? Blaine took a second to look around. But that was all it took.
When he looked back to where the ghost was, it was gone.
Great, now he was stuck in a maze of mirrors, having been led away from his friends by a ghost who claimed to know where Kurt was. How could he have been so stupid!
Maniacal laughing suddenly filled the chamber and the teenager started. A face appeared in the mirrors all around him, a floating head if you will. Blaine swallowed hard. It was a woman's head.
"Silly, silly boy," she cackled. Blaine backed himself against the wall and braced his hands against it. "You'll never see your boy toy again!" she spat, the cackling filling the air.
Something snapped in Blaine and he ran toward one of the mirrors, throwing his fist in it right where the woman's face hovered. The glass shattered and Blaine screeched in pain. Shards embedded themselves in his hand. Blood seeped from the wounds and still the woman cackled, though her face was gone. The voice was still there.
"Awww, did little Blainey hurt himself?"
Blaine threw an angry look up at the ceiling. "I'm not afraid of you!" he shouted, pointing with his uninjured hand. "And don't call me that!" He was met with more cackling.
Moments later, the cackling died away and all senses of the woman seemed to disappear. Blaine fell to the floor, resolved to nestle his injured hand. He wrapped it in the hem of his shirt.
And that's when his eyes saw it. The mirror he had shattered had shattered so easily for a reason. The space behind that particular mirror was hollow. Blaine pulled himself to his feet.
Carefully stepping forward he noticed the small flight of stairs leading up behind the mirror. It was now or never. He should probably check it out.
Taking a deep breath, Blaine stepped through the space and proceeded up the stairs.
What time was it?
Kurt stared at the wall in his cell. The man had left after drinking his fill of Santana's blood, leaving her crumpled on the floor again. Sue had fallen into an awkward sleep in her cell.
The teenager was terrified. What other plans did this man have for him?
He tried not to think about that, resolving to place his thoughts in a good place. Blaine. Was he all right? Was he hurt? Were all the others okay? Who had killed Mr. Schue and why?
Eyes roamed over to Santana's figure and Kurt became aware that she was only there as food. Who was to say that the others wouldn't soon be taken for that purpose as well? Sue was obviously another refrigerator and all it took for Kurt to know that the cheerleading coach and Santana weren't going to be the only ones, was the fact that he had seen human bones littered around the cell. How many people had the vampire sucked dry and left to rot?
How many vampires were in this house?
Kurt shivered, an action that doubled when he heard the door opening.
"Yes, yes my pet, you can feed on the leftover meat once they are dead," said a voice. This was a woman's voice and Kurt swallowed. What the hell was she talking to?
Grunts and slurred yabber, almost like baby talk met his ears. The woman cackled. And the next thing Kurt saw had his heart dropping farther than the bottom of his stomach and his blood ran cold.
Lumbering pass his cell was the mutilated body of Mr. Schue. There was a collar around his neck, hooked to a chain. His blood shot eyes found Kurt and suddenly his hands clumsily grasped the bars of Kurt's cell. Kurt's body shook.
"Brrrrraaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnsss," Mr. Schue grunted. Holy sweet Gaga! They'd turned his choir teacher into a zombie! And not those costumed ones Kurt remembered his friends being at the championship football game the year before. A real zombie.
"Now, now my pet," said the woman. Kurt's breath hitched when she came into view. One hand was holding the chain attached to Mr. Schue's collar and the other was holding…the woman's head. It grinned sickeningly at Kurt, who shuddered. "This one is not for eating. Alfares has special plans for him."
"Brrrraaaaiiiinnnnsss," was the reply, though it was not as long drawn out this time.
The woman allowed her head to continue staring at Kurt for a moment before pressing Mr. Schue on. A few seconds later, Kurt could hear the sound of a cell being opened. Great, Mr. Schue the zombie would be living down there.
Kurt held his breath and waited for the woman to come back. But she didn't. She never came back his way and he felt grateful because there really wasn't something unnerving about a woman randomly carrying her own head.
Kurt swallowed, his throat dry. He could hear Mr. Schue's grunts from somewhere to his left.
But they were drowned out by the sudden groaning sound.
The boy turned his head to see Santana stirring. The girl slowly sat up. Her eyes blinked a few times and Kurt felt relieved. "Oh thank Gaga!" he shouted. That alerted Santana who stared at Kurt hanging from the wall with wide eyes.
"Kurt?" she asked in a weak voice. Kurt tried to smile.
"Don't talk Satan," he said. She attempted a glare but was too weak to pull it off. "You've been used as a refrigerator," he said.
That caught her off-guard. "A refrigerator?"
The boy sighed. "There are vampires here Santana. One's been feeding from you."
Santana just stared at him, as though she thought he was crazy again. Gingerly, the girl lifted her hand and her fingers to her neck. Her eyes went wide with horror when she found the two little fang holes in the skin.
"Oh fuck," she muttered, falling silent.
For several moments, Kurt could only look at her in sadness.
"Blaine!" Puck was shouting. He held Brittany's flashlight in one hand and Quinn's hand in the other. The group had decided they had to find their friend. So Finn had slung Rory over his shoulder again and they had traipsed out of their safe haven. Puck was leading the brigade.
"Come on white boy this isn't funny!" Mercedes shouted. She was holding Sam's hand tightly.
Rachel was awkwardly cuddled into Finn's side while her free hand gripped Sugar's.
They were a tight knit group. Nothing could break them apart now, right? No possible way it could.
The sound of breaking glass met their ears and Puck turned the beam of the flashlight sharply down a hallway. "It's coming from this way," he said.
Without a moment of protests, the lot of them followed their Mohawk friend down the hallway. They thought they heard some odd cackling filling the air but they tried to shove it off as just their overactive imagination. That couldn't be happening. There was nothing wrong here. But they all knew there was.
By now, every single one of them was wishing that they hadn't gone on that trip. Why couldn't they talk Mr. Schue out it?
Carefully, they proceeded down the hall, trying not to make any noise, passing one door after another, creaking on the old floorboards. Artie was bringing up the rear, wheeling his chair closely behind Finn trying not to run the tall boy over.
But it was just his luck that one of his wheels caught in a hole in the rotting floor and he became stuck. Cursing under his breath, his fear and worry crowded his better judgment and the boy in the wheelchair didn't even think to call out for help. His friends continued on without him.
The hole was conveniently placed in front of one of those doors and Artie's attention was drawn from his struggled when he heard it creak open. His eyes flitted up.
He was met with pure darkness and he narrowed his eyes in confusion.
But all it took was one blink and the next thing the boy with the glasses knew, he was snatched easily into the dark, right out of his wheelchair. All he could manage was a yelp.
This got the others' attention and they all stopped up the wall. Puck turned the beam behind them only to be met with Artie's empty wheelchair with its wheel still stuck in the whole and a wide open door beside.
"Oh shit…" Finn whispered.
Artie didn't register anything that happened after being snatched. The next time reality hit him, he was slamming face first into hard floor and a gate banged closed behind him.
"Artie!" two familiar voices shouted.
"Hello Wheels, nice of you to join us," Sue said, as she had woken from her sleep.
Artie slowly raised his head, surprised to find that his glasses were not broken, but he could feel a stinging in his lip and he was sure it was split. His eyes lit first on Santana who was trying to stumble to her feet in order to help the paralyzed boy get into a more comfortable position. He realized she was weak.
"I'd help," said the other familiar voice and Artie's eyes went to Kurt, feeling relieved that his friend was alive. If only he could tell Blaine. "But I'm kind of chained up at the moment." Kurt scowled at his own joke not at all feeling it was lightening the mood.
"Oh great, now I'm missing too, aren't I?" Artie asked.
Santana managed to weakly help him into a sitting position. "And possibly another refrigerator," she said flatly. Artie stared at her. Her long hair was obscuring the marks on her neck.
"Refrigerator?" he asked.
It was Sue who replied. "Congratulations Wheels, you are now the vampire's newest food source."
All Artie could do, was gulp.
Blaine reached the top of the stairs and looked around. He was in some sort of sitting room. Was he still on the second floor? The boy didn't have any idea. He didn't have much time to stop and think about it either for something immediately caught his attention.
There was a rocking chair at the far end of the room, near a door. Its back was to him, but it was rocking. Someone was sitting in it.
"Hello Blaine." The boy froze. No, it couldn't be. It just wasn't possible.
The figure in the chair stood slowly from it and came around to face him. Blaine found himself staring into the cold eyes of…his father. But that couldn't be right. Mr. Anderson was away on business in another country. This had to be a trick.
Blaine swallowed hard, backing up, intending on running right back down the stairs and finding another way of getting out of the mirror room. Why was this house messing with him?
But the moment he turned, he found the stairs were gone. "Looking for an exit son?" the man he knew could not really be his father said.
Hazel eyes flew back to the man in terror. He was proceeding forward. Blaine tried to bypass him and stare at the door across the room. If only he could get to that door.
But the man seemed to know what he was thinking. He stepped easily to one side and blocked Blaine's direct path. It was then that he noticed a baseball bat in the man's hand. Oh dear sweet God. Whatever this thing really was, it knew. Blaine swallowed.
"I'll give you a choice Blaine," he said, now slapping the bat into the palm of his other hand. "Renounce that silly boy you claim love to," he spat out the words and looked purely disgusted. "Or take a beating from this cold metal object I hold in my hand." Blaine swallowed. He put on a hard face.
"You're not my father. You're trying to play tricks with me. And if he were here, I'd tell him the same thing I'm about to tell you!" He balled his hands into fists, cringing as his injury stung.
"Oh?" the man said in a silky voice. "What might that be Blaine?"
He narrowed his hazel eyes. "That I will never stop loving Kurt and he can't change that!"
And that was all Blaine needed to have the strength to overcome this horrid situation. Shutting his eyes tight he sprinted forward, feeling cold run all over his body as he seemingly passed through the man. He threw his hands out in front of him and ignored the searing pain that went through his cut hand up his arm as they collided with the door.
Scrambling for the knob, Blaine yanked it open and ran through it.
There was no way of knowing what was on the other side of that door. But right than, he didn't care.
All he could do now was just keep on running.
In a secret room somewhere in the depths of the house, creatures gathered. It was a coven of three, though there was more than that roaming the house. The vampire called Alfares, the beheaded woman, and a small girl who could only be five or six at the most. She was pale as Alfares and drinking something from a small sippy cup. It looked suspiciously like blood.
"The woman was right," Alfares said, running a dainty hand across his slicked hair.
The headless woman scoffed, having placed her head on the table. The child eyed her. "About what?" she cackled.
Alfares glared at the woman. "The boy! The pale one! He would make an excellent vampire!"
Again, the headless woman scoffed. "Haven't you enough with that brat? Let me have this one!" she shouted. She was rewarded by Alfares pounding his fists on the table. It startled her and she quickly swiped her head from the wood.
The child looked on in amusement.
"I run the show here!" the vampire screamed. "I call the shots! I was here even before you were beheaded Holly!" The woman cowered in slight fear. "If I say he's mine, than he's mine! Is that understood?"
The woman gripped her head in her hands and made a motion to indicate nodding.
"Good. But first, I intend to play with him."
The little girl finally pulled the sippy cup from her mouth and looked at Alfares. "Play how daddy?" she asked, her little fangs making a snarky little grin. The child was by no means innocent and by vampire years, probably at least a few centuries old.
Alfares ran a long thin finger gently down his daughter's cheek. The child giggled at the touch.
"Simple my dear," he said. "I have needs. My sexual appetite has groaned for far to long. It needs to be fed."
The beheaded woman widened her eyes. "You don't mean…"
"Oh yes," Alfares snickered. "He's going to be my new sex slave.
A/N: Well, isn't this just lovely. :) Yes, this story will have to be uprated soon. Pending Alfares gets what he wants. Vicious, vicious man. Oh, and the refrigerator thing, I actually got that from references in a certain series. If you can guess what book series that came from, I'll give you a shout out next chapter! BTW, thanks so much for your reviews! They're amazing!
Kurt: OMG! This place stinks! Ugh!
Santana: Mind telling me why I'm a refrigerator and Hummel gets all the glory?
Kurt: Excuse me? Sorry Satan, but being chained to a wall and potential vampire sex toy is not something I would call glory.
Santana: At least they're not feeding off you!
Kurt: At least you're not chained up! *bitch glare*
Me: Stop it! Santana, be lucky you're even alive still! I could...
Blaine: *interrupts* I'll save you Kurtie! Wherever you are!
Mr. Schue: Brrrraaaaaaaiiiinnnnssss!
Me: Aren't you only a zombie in the story?
Mr. Schue: *grunts*
Me: O...kay, so yeah, wanna help break Kurt, Santana, and Artie out, please review or they will not be saved! Who's next? Will Alfares succeed? Who told him Kurt would be perfect for vampirism? Stay tuned and review if you want to know! Bye for now!