First, I want to apologise for such the long wait for the next chapter. I know, I know, it's been a while, but like I said, I only write this stuff on the side, as work, school and *gasp* social life~ usually come before this stuff. I'll try and write more often, but I've a couple of assignments due next week which I need to work on, so I finished this chapter because I know there will probably a longggggggg wait until the next. ahhhh, sorry... life. it gets in the way of delicious fanfiction sometimes.
Also, a WARNING: gore 'n shit in this chapter. I'm not very good at understanding how bad this is, but yeah warning the easily nauseous. I have never cringed at blood in my life so, idk. WARNING WARNING WARNING
hi enjoy
It was cold when Jeremiah woke. It bit at his toes, prickled his back and hung all around him. In the air. Something warm lay upon his stomach. He could feel tiny breathing against his gut. For a single moment he believed he was back in his apartment in San Francisco. That he'd simply fallen asleep with the aircon running, and his little dog had curled up on his belly. Sam would be up early, cooking breakfast for the three of them in the kitchen. Sam adored their little Frankie, her soft fur and squeak of a bark. Jeremiah honestly thought that's where he was. That he was safe at home with the ones he loved.
But then he remembered the course of the night's events. Kurt, Blaine, devious smiles and laughter. The cliched lines from a horror movie about 'playing games'.
Jeremiah's eyes flew fully open, and he saw where he really was.
Imagine a room. There is one light source. A glittering candle lit chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The crystals are barely throwing the lights of the flame about the room, the corners are still dark and uninviting. The images in the light are just as terrifying as the unknown dark. There are instruments of every design and shape, but they're not used for musical purposes. They are tools. For slicing. Disecting. Destroying.
Your eyes flitter around the room. Your breath heightens, you attempt to call out for help. You see the man who helped you the last time you asked. Leaning over you with a wide, crazed expression. He is smiling. And you scream.
This was Jeremiah's reality.
'Good to see you didn't sleep in Jeremiah!' Kurt's cheery tone pierced the air. Jeremiah cringed and struggled, before realising he was bound with thick black ropes to a long metal table, the rope scratching at his exposed skin, shirt removed. He wore only the his light acidwash jeans. No shirt, no shoes.
'What the... Where the hell am I?' Jeremiah's anxious cry was answered with a mere giggle passing Kurt's lips.
'What makes you think I'd tell you that. It'd ruin the game.'
Jeremiah, confused, angry and scared, twisted fiercely against his bonds. The little sound of breathing against his stomach stirred but did not move any further. 'Why are you doing this...?' Jeremiah needed some kind of answer. He had no idea what was happening. Kurt seemed alone. There was no sign of Blaine, or any other person for that matter.
'Because I feel like it. I was bored... I am in love. I have many reasons, I suppose...' Kurt's eyes were distant, staring into a dark corner with no real direction. For a long moment, there was silence. Jeremiah could of sworn that Kurt's face showed remembered pain, memories buried long ago, but now uncovered, stinging and swollen.
'You felt like it...?' Jeremiah stammered at last, inspired by a sudden embrace of courage. 'You just decided to pick up a hitch hiker, drug them, then strap them down in your basement because you were bored? You wanted to play this kind of sick game? What are you gonna do Kurt? Rape me?' Jeremiah continued to ramble, Kurt staring at him wide eyed and silent. 'Where is that creepy distant boyfriend of yours, Blaine? Doesn't he wanna stick around, huh? I wouldn't wanna stick around with you either. This is sick, you're sick, disgusting, fucking crazy little faggot.'
Kurt's head snapped upward, his eyes flamed with rage. He literally pounced. In a second he was on Jeremiah, crouching over him like an animal, upon the silver metal table, a growl rumbled deep in his throat as white fingers latched around the other's.
'What was that again?' Kurt's thumb pressed dangerously to Jeremiah's wind pipe, threatening to choke him.
That would of been a relief compared to what was to come.
'I-I'm s-orry, glarphf,' Jeremiah's choked words barely escaping his mouth, tears pricking in his eyes.
Kurt's grip loosened slightly. 'Don't ever. Use that word. Again. Especially coming from someone like you. Someone like me.' Jeremiah shuddered beneath his fingers.
'Don't ever compare me to you. I'm nothing like you!'
Smack.
Jeremiah's head came down hard against the metal, an instant reaction, a warning, and a preview, woven into one.
Again, and again, and again.
After the fourth impact, an olive hand came to rest upon Kurt's shoulder. Blue eyes flickered to it momentarily.
'Kurt, you'll ruin him.' Blaine spoke with finality.
Kurt's breathing was rough, but he let go of Jeremiah long enough to straddle his chest and pin him to the table even further, hands coming to rest either side of his face. Jeremiah was scared silent.
Kurt leaned in, as if to kiss the frightened man. His perfectly soft lips grazed over the imperfection's of Jeremiah's, before breathing sentences into Jeremiah's jaw. Kurt's breath was hot and heavy, sweet and bitter, like coffee and peppermint and anger.
'I've been waiting to do this from the very moment I first laid eyes on you, GAP guy.'
Kurt's hands found Jeremiah's face in a second, smacking hard against the metal for a fifth time. It was barely a second later before Kurt had swung himself over and off Jeremiah, going to stand next to Blaine who was motionless in the corner. Whimpering, Jeremiah just lay there, taking it all in. Kurt was insane. Clearly. But he was strong, fast. Intelligent, graceful. And fucking terrifying.
'Wait...' Jeremiah spluttered as he stared at the swinging chandelier, his head throbbing too much to possibly lift. 'If... if you're going to rape me or whatever, please, please just drug me again.'
'Sorry Honey, not my type.' Kurt's tone had changed. His voice was light and playful, and laced with that false apologetic drift. 'But Blaine on the other hand...' he trailed off, making eyes at the dark haired man who only looked confused.
'Okay! Lets get started, I'm beginning to get bored,' Kurt began, practically dancing around to the other side of the table. Blaine leaned back against a wooden bench opposite from where Kurt stood, leaning over Jeremiah's restraints. Long pale fingers became legs, walking themselves over the black knots, Kurt's sparkling eyes watching his own fingers on their journey. Jeremiah was afraid to breathe, as he watched as Kurt's fingers wandered over his body, and to the cloth covering something large on his stomach. Jeremiah's eyes widened. How had he not noticed the box like shape attatched to his abdomen? Kurt's crazed assult was a reasonable enough distraction he assured himself, before he went back to questioning it's appearance.
Kurt's hands reached the dark cloth covering the shape, with a moment of suspense building hesitation and a sharp flick of his wrist, the cloth was removed to reveal a large glass box, a cage. Inside, lay a sleeping creature. The transparent prison harboured a large albino rat. Jeremiah gasped, flinching hard, and rocking the creature from it's slumber against his stomach.
'Oh my fucking god, get that thing off of me!' Jeremiah screeched in a moment of hysteria. The rat was slowly, groggigly awakening, beady red eyes glancing around as if it were aware of the presence of others, but unable to see or hear them.
'Calm down, he can't even see you, don't worry.' Blaine reassured the frightened hostage. 'That's why you wanted that cage wasn't it Kurt.' Blaine added smiling at his boyfriend across the room.
Kurt's face lit up in a grin at the first sign of approval from Blaine, that simple smile. 'Of course! So Jeremiah, as Blaine says, Antony can't hear you, or see you. All he sees is... well, nothing. The walls on his side of the box are a dark blue, appart from your stomach of course. We can see in, through the clear outer shell, but he can't look out! But that's not even the best part yet.' If it was even possible for Kurt's grin to grow any wider, it happened, his whole face aglow as he described out his plan. 'This is the fun part, you ready?'
Kurt's hands stroked each side of the glass blox in one sweeping movement, opening small holes along all sides. The openings where big enough for something to be added, an interference, but not wide enough for an escape.
'Blaine, pass that iron. Be careful, its hot.'
Blaine silently passed the long rod, the tip glowing a firey amber, holding and passing it gentley to Kurt. Kurt took it into his hands, twirling it expertiedly between his fingers, avoiding burns as if the poker weren't even alive with heat. Smiling cruelly, he looked down upon Jeremiah, who's eyes where unknowningly leaking fat tears. Antony sat quietly in his box, cleaning his paws and twitching bloodred eyes every few seconds. With a laugh and a swift movement, Kurt rammed the hot iron into one of the opened holes in the side of the box, and straight into the animal's side.
There was a shriek of pain from the rat, as he twisted in reaction, clawing Jeremiah's stomach as he moved. Jeremiah let out a sharp cry from the scratches, every set of human eyes in the dark room focussing on the deep red lines in Jeremiah's flesh. Kurt toyed with the iron in his hand for another moment, before choosing a hole on the opposite side of the box, ramming it in sharply for a second time. Again, the rat screamed and scratched, and Jeremiah cried out. This is going exactly how I planned it would! Kurt's mind was alive with pleasant thoughts.
'So Jeremiah, long story short, this is how I am going to kill you. I will continue to aggrovate this rat, he will have no possible way to escape, except if he burrows his way out. And the only way he can do that is if he goes through you. And I assure you, he will. Antony will be overrun with natural instinct. He wants, no, needs to get out. Your innards are the one thing in the way of his freedom.'
Faster and deadlier than before, Kurt's hand guided the poker through a different hole each time to strike at the creature. The tormented animal was never quick enough to dodge the fire stick, screeching with every encounter. Jeremiah's skin quickly became drenched in red, cries of torment, pain and of delight attacking the air in twisted combinations.
Blaine sat back and watched. Secretly, he was itching. Aching, to get involved. But Kurt needed this more than him. Kurt needed a kill on his own, to get it out of his system. Blaine would assist when Jeremiah was dead. Blaine would put the rat to sleep, and then dump the body. He covered the tracks, because he was careful. Well, atleast more cafeful then Kurt. Kurt acted on his urges, always wanting to do it now not later, and never wanting to clean up afterwards. Standard child-like behaviour. Never wanting to deal with the consequences.
Blaine didn't mind too much. Watching the destruction was almost as fun.
'C'mon Antony, hurry, up, and, get, yourself, out!' Kurt grunted each world with another jab of the iron. Finally, the poor rat cracked, and with a yelp sunk it's teeth, claws and instinct into Jeremiah's stomach, tearing through flesh frantically. Jeremiah's blood curdling scream only encouraged more of the torture, Kurt poking at Antony even faster then before.
The rest is predictable. There is a lot of blood, and a lot of screaming. A white body becomes red, and the number of undamaged souls in the room falls back down to nil.
'Why me?' Jeremiah screams, his abdomen ripped apart and bleeding as he breathes thick and desperate. Kurt smiles wickedly, crystal blue eyes cold and threatening. He opened his mouth to speak, calmly.
'You want to know the truth? At first, you were only meant to be a pass time. A bit of fun. But then... I realised who you were. I knew you a long time ago. Actually, both of us did. Blaine and I. Blaine, knew you better of course. I only met you once. But, first impressions are a funny thing aren't they... Jeremiah... Junior Manager of the GAP...' Blaine's face was confused with the realisation of who Jeremiah was. He'd finally caught on...
'What the fuck? I swear I've never seen either of you before in my life? I worked at the GAP for a little while... until... oh my god.' Grey eyes flicked around frantically.
'Bit of blast from the past eh, Jeremiah? Yep, remember Valentine's Day, 2011. 10 years ago. The day, you stole my love away from me. I thought I'd never get him back again... but I managed to. But for those moments of confusion and devastation your little blonde head put me through... Well, consider this, my revenge.'
For the first time, Blaine's face displayed a look of protest, of shock, but he did not speak up as he watched Kurt's arm as it rose high above his head, swinging it down to strike Jeremiah across the temple. The force of the blow knocked Jeremiah out cold, the impact breaking the skin and skull, adding more blood to the sea of red that covered Jeremiah's body. The iron rod was still burning hot. If Jeremiah was not dead already, it wouldn't be long until he well and truly was.
There was silence. The raspy breathing escaping Kurt's bloodsplattered figure and the terrified squeak from the rodent cowering in a dead man's corpse were the only thing reminding them what had just occurred.
'We knew him.' Blaine spoke quietly after a long while.
'So, we killed him, it doesn't matter know.'
'We knew him Kurt. We agreed, that if we did this, we'd never kill someone we knew.'
Kurt's face was hurt as he looked over to Blaine, who's head was hung and staring at Jeremiah's broken face. 'But that was years ago, you didn't even know who he was until I said-'
'That's not the point!' Blaine snapped timidly. 'You broke the rules, Kurt. Just... just go get cleaned up. I'll deal with this. We can talk later, okay?'
Kurt's expression danced between anger and disappointment. 'Fine,' he said softly as he slammed down the poker he still clenched in his hand, stalking upstairs. with a slam of the basement door.
Blaine reached behind him for a long syringe filled with pale blue liquid. Gentley, he located the traumatised rat amongst the blood, and injected the poor creature with the deadly toxin. After a minute, Antony's eyes closed and his heavy body grew limp. Carefully, Blaine scooped him out of the bloody mess, and placed his body in an open garbage bag. With a sigh, he turned to dispose of the human body, cleaning as he went. Every surface stunk of pure alcohol, as the last fragment of evidence leading to Kurt's playtime was tied up into a thick black plastic bag. Blaine dragged the bags through a side door, and into a dark car, unregistered and with black tinted windows. Piling the body bags into the back, he hopped into the drivers side, reversing out of the driveway and back onto the high way.
45 minutes later, the waxy half moon hanging dull and cold in the sky, Jeremiah Wilson's body was dumped and arranged deep in the heart of the surrounding forest, not far from where he was orignally picked up. Bear Maulling; if ever found, that's what the headlines would read. It didn't happen too often, but it was a likely story. Past tomorrow, it wouldn't even matter. The real murderers would be cross state, back in Ohio. No one would even think to suspect the pleasant gay couple that lived the next town over from where the victim was discovered anyway. There was nothing to worry about.
With a final look and a sigh Blaine turned to go trek back to the car. The night was pitch black and freezing, but Blaine knew his way around these woods, he could navigate his way back to the warmth and the light.
Kurt paced the tiled floor of the kitchen, awaiting anxiously Blaine's return. He wanted to apologise, swear that he would never do it again, get on his hands and knees and beg if that was what was needed to get Blaine's forgiveness. Though Kurt Hummel did not beg for anyone, his absolutely everything would become the first exception.
The door opened and closed with a click, and footsteps entered the hall. Kurt spun to face Blaine as he suddenly appeared in the doorway, sliding off a thick jacket and hanging it on the peg.
'Hi.'
'Hi.' Kurt stared anxiously into Blaine's hazel eyes. Blaine kept up a perfect poker face all the while.
'I'm sorry,' Kurt started but Blaine raised his hand to stop him.
'Don't apologise. It's over, okay? Lets just move on.'
'But I really thought it's be okay, I mean, he broke your heart. Didn't you kinda wanna get him back?'
'I don't think like you Kurt. I think about things rationally, maturely. You don't... Don't get affended now. It's just, the truth.' Blaine walked past Kurt, headed towards the small flight of stairs that led upstairs.
'Wait,' Kurt blurted causing Blaine to double back. 'I-I.. What can I do to make it up to you.'
Blaine turned around and came back towards Kurt to face him directly. 'Honestly? You need to stop this. We, need to stop this. This senseless killing. Sure, its fun, but we're not kids anymore Kurt. It's getting harder. I'm sick of moving away every few months. I wanna settle down, start a family with you. We're heading back to Lima tomorrow. I... I want to be able to stay there. Can you promise me, that we will never have to pack up and leave again?' Blaine's words were sincere. 'Please? Promise me that there will be no more murder. No more death. Ever.'
Kurt bit at his lip, hesitating. Blaine's eyes fell for a fragment of a second before Kurt grabbed his face in his hand, kissing him full on the lips. Lingering for a long moment, Kurt pulled away. 'I promise Blaine. I swear, I will never do it again. I love you too much, and I know this hurts you. I'm sorry.'
Blaine smiled at his love. He leaned in for a quick kiss before turning back to head upstairs again. 'Thankyou Kurt. I love you, goodnight. It's been a long evening, going to head to bed.'
'Goodnight Blaine.' Kurt's eyes looked over as Blaine walked away, full of sadness.
Giving up something you love, for someone you love, is sometimes necessary in a relationship. Kurt knew this. Blaine knew this.
Kurt also knew, that Blaine had his secrets. Blaine didn't know Kurt knew of them. Kurt knew a lot more then he ever let on.
Kurt decided he would try. He didn't believe in heaven or hell or God, but he new his soul had been tainted beyond repair. Haulting his favourite pass time might do him some good.
But in the back of his mind, Kurt knew he could keep a secret perfectly when the time came.
AN: Just want to let you guys know, I do not find the torture of animals amusing in the slightest. Before I get a shitload of comments about animal abuse and welfare on this chapter, I'd like to point out I am a vegetarian, and selective vegan. I am a huge supporter of animal rights, and I literally love all animals. So, just don't get up my ass about the rat thing. It's a torture method my friend's and I mentioned during a discussion in one of our lunch hours. ~ideas for fics sprouting from everyday life~
