`author's notes: Amazing. AMAZING. Glee sucked this week (Feel Free to Flame). I can't stand last week's episode. It was just a jumbled up mess, and even though we got some Dorky Sam in there, I am still incredible upset with it. It was a waste of the song Sing! and several other songs. Will and Sue's hospital visit was a sham if I've ever seen it and after grilled Cheesus, this is one of the worst episodes of the season. THERE.

Now, let's get on with our story, right?

Rewinding!

Here's what you missed on 'Thirteen Ghosts':

That face wasn't scary or intimidating. Even if it was basically telling him to 'Fuck Off', he felt like it was doing so halfheartedly. Someone's sneaking into Sam's dream and trying to pry him off the ghostly scent of New Directions. Maybe it's some dangerous mad man? How about Jun's sister then? The face that had given voice to the warnings, the warnings that forced him into bouts of feverish nightmares, was facing him head on in the middle of a crowded hallway. Highschool really does suck. Amanda was forced into being a recluse because the school's food isn't exactly up-to-code. I think those school burritos were poisoned. I– Oh good God! Ooh. Someone get her a Pepto. Sam's been laughing it up with Kurt but maybe that isn't always a good thing. The thought of Kurt leaving through his own door was leaving a small, bitter taste in Sam's mouth. Also, Amanda might have just found out about…

A trigger! How could I have not seen this before?

…a way to make her and Sam's job a bit easier. And that's what you missed on 'Thirteen Ghosts'.


WEBEGINOURCHAPTERNOW!LETUSCOMMENCE

Kill Amanda.

Just end her.

This became Sam's new mantra as he stared at the flickering lights of the empty hallway.

Then again, he was the one that waited a good twenty minutes after the final bell.

He wasn't one to try and draw attention; he only needed it when it benefited him. So it was only natural to hang by his locker an extra ten minutes, and then pretend to be in the bathroom for ten more. Once he had stared at the sharpie markings in the third stall of the first floor bathroom, he had scoured the hallway to find two or three lingering students. He had made his way towards the Bloody Hallway.

Then things got a little creepy.

The lights in the adjacent hallway had started to flicker. The school was very well lit but the change in overhead, fluorescent lamps was still noticeable. Like the beginning of a song, the lamps began to flicker on and off to an unheard rhythm. Once the blond set foot in the hall, one of the cylindrical lamps shut off, followed by the one after it and the one after that. It continued until the last of the lamps was shut off.

It started again.

Once it did the sound of steps echoed across the empty hallway.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Sam turned around in his spot, staring at the end of the hall where the first floor Chemistry lab was. It was only a dead-end with two wide windows and a trashcan. Turning, he tried to keep his heart from climbing all the way to his throat. Steps were echoing behind him.

It reminded him of clichés in old, forgotten horror movies. The main character would step into an empty hallway at a time where one would think there would be at least one or two other humans hanging around. The silence would be clear, because there obviously wouldn't be any sound filtering in from nearby open windows. If there was, it was usually the creepy branch scratching against the window pane or the low woosh of the wind whipping through trees. It wasn't like that one hallway was connected to other hallways where people, people who were alive and well, would be socializing. No. It was obvious that particular area was zoned in the middle the Mason-Dixon Line between reality and the Twilight Zone.

"Jennifer, come on! We'll be late for practice." Sam forced himself to breathe and lean against a nearby locker when two brunettes walked by through an adjacent hallway.

Stop thinking about stupid 1950 horror-movie clichés!

Act like you're going to the choir room.

He took that first step to the choir room and if the shit hadn't hit the fan before, it certainly did now. The steps had only been the first part of this incident. The growls were next.

The steps had been thick, echoing around the walls as though it was being transmitted off a very weak speaker, but the growling was different. It wasn't an echo but clear and concise sound. Someone was growling right next to his left ear.

Sam glanced at his left when he reached the corner of the hallway. No sound; not a whisper reached his ears until he looked to the right and then the guttural noise came back up again.

It was getting to him and he had only stepped into the area a minute ago. Shadows were cast and recast over the whole of the hallway, the lamps' rhythm becoming faster as Sam stepped closer to the haunted corridor. The shadows seemed ominous, claws and teeth splaying out before him before being chased away by the artificial glow of the lights. These weren't an omen or even a warning; they were made to foster a deep fear in him that was beginning to take shape at the pit of his stomach. Each heavy step that came combined with the dark shadows, building the factors up into a song Sam was nearly unable to ignore.

The dull rumbling was separate from the first two elements as it wasn't something he could leave unheard. It was there, eating at his ear and causing the sweat on at his neck to spread.

Courage.

Have courage.

It's not like you're in Asgard trying to fight off the Dark Avengers or anything.

Call him out.

Call him out.

"I'm not here for any trouble."

All the lights stopped blinking, and the shadows they cast disappeared. The steps stopped echoing and the growling was gone. Along the row of lockers, near the corner where the normal hallway and the Bloody Hallway met, a lonely white poster shook slightly before falling off the wall. It was crinkled at the edges, with faded red letters advertising the McKinley Titan's football game on February 6th, 2011. By the urging of an invisible force the paper fluttered around the floor until stopping near one of Sam's Converse sneakers.

The moment he bent to pick it up, the paper was crushed and balled up.

Before he could move back or stand up he felt a sting on his left cheek. His body was flung against the lower lockers.

"Fuck!" Sam's hands grasped at the back of his head, his whole body bent sideways as he half-knelt, half-laid on the glossy tiled floor. He could feel the blood pumping through his head.

The world was shaking slightly as his vision adjusted. He'd punched another person before and he knew how to take a punch but this one was different.

"Cra- ah! Cold, cold! Shit…" Sam grasped at his cheek, his warm and now noticeably dirty hand covering the affected area. It was cold as ice and he instantly thought of Dr. Freeze trying to smack him around.

Oh, if only! As it was, Sam was now staring up at the panting face of one Noah Puckerman; he looked much more frightening up close than yelling at him from the far end of the choir room.

"Dude, calm down! Did you he– Gack!"

Maybe it was the adrenaline flowing through his brain, or the fear taking hold of his sight, but Sam swore he saw stars the minute the specter was able to grab onto his throat. Didn't Ghostly Apparitions 101 tell you that they were just that, ghostly apparitions? Weren't they supposed to be specters without the ability to touch anything other than the occasional piece of furniture or each other?

"Guh –Ack!" Sam's eyes began to cross as the hand around his throat tighten, pushing his head and the rest of his body against the space between the lockers and the floor. It could have been the lack of proper oxygen flow that caused him to imagine the next mutation of his attacker.

The claws and the bloodied clothing wasn't enough, it seemed. The popping veins, sweating skin and red-nerve lined eyes weren't creepy enough. This guy had to open his mouth and let out a foul stench that could make paint peel away.

Sam's green eyes widened in horror at the sight of row upon row of sharp, pearly white teeth lining the other's mouth. The jaw was unhinging with an ungodly crack! The bones underneath the skin were moving back, up and away from their original positions; they squirmed underneath the tight skin, causing the mouth to become impossibly wide.

Noah Puckerman was kneeling down over him, his head shifting side to side as his mouth opened. His lips pulled away, wrinkling against the edges of his mouth and became thin, chapped lines. The inside of his mouth was rotting and stench-filled and a clear paradox to the near-endless rows of clean teeth he saw. They wide, long, all trembling as the specter inched down closer to the struggling teenager.

"Shinpu!"

Noah moved back and the hand that held Sam in place moved to grasp at the ghost's own throat. He moved back and froze, his body rocking back onto his heels momentarily before seizing up.

"Ugh…" Sam's body shifted forward and onto the floor as his lungs began to heave in breaths. His eyesight was still blurry and slightly faded when something pulled at his arms and forced him to crawl away from the lockers.

"Anata wa bakadesu. Jisatsu baka yarō!"

Sam pushed himself against a nearby trashcan and stared up at the face now screaming at him.

"Watashi wa tōzakatte iru koto o katatta." Deep brown eyes stared down at him.

"Whu-What?" muttered Sam as he rubbed at his aching chest.

He turned and looked at Noah, who was still locked in an awkward position: both of his legs were folded underneath him, his feet nearly completely squashed between his legs and the floor. His back was arched forward slightly, his chest still as though he had tried to breathe in. His bloodied, claw-like hands were pulling at his throat and his mouth was still opened: wide and pointed upwards. He was a statue.

"You will leave this place, now!" Sam turned to the new voice and frowned when he saw it was Sachi staring at him.

He had lived with women long enough to realize when one was incredibly pissed the hell off. Sachi was no exception.

"He's… Ah." Sam shifted onto one knee, planting a foot on the floor. "He can't…"

"This is not your concern, leave or I will be forced to remove you." The girl grabbed hold of Sam's sweatshirt and pushed him.

The teen rocked forward and landed on the floor with his hands splayed out before him. He quickly stood, urging his body to stand through the pain ebbing in his muscles. He looked at the girl who was currently turned away from him.

She wore the same thing she had earlier in the day, but something was different about her. It came off her in waves: a feeling of authority and power.

"Sa–"

"Bitch!" Sachi's body bent backwards just in time to avoid one of Noah's clawed hands trying to scratch her face off.

The ghost had moved from his spot the very moment the duo had begun to argue. Noah's head lunged forward to bite at the youth's head, only to catch air when she tumble-rolled out of the way.

"Leave! Leave now! Ha!" Sachi dodged another attack and stepped back, her hands digging into her pocket as she kept her eyes on Noah.

The ghost's eyes switched from Sachi to Sam, both moving back with each step the apparition took. Muscles and legs shook slightly underneath the boy's shirt as he crouched back and launched himself at Sam with guttural roar.

"Fu–"

"Shinpu!" Sachi's hands moved quickly and Noah's roar ceased when a thin wooden plaque met his forehead. He froze in the air, his body stiffening up as it had done before. All but his eyes became still, and he focused his gaze on Sam who chose to do what he was finding himself doing too often lately.

He ran.

He ran, but not before grabbing hold of Sachi Roberts's arm and pulling her away with him.

ADJUSTYOURSEATBELTS/SCENECHANGE!

"What the fuck was that about? What did you do to him?" He glared.

He leaned against the black railings of the large steps and didn't look away, even for a moment. He felt that if he did, Sachi would pull a 'Sleepy Hollow' and return from whatever Tree of the Dead had spit her out into the world. The girl didn't fidget or squirm under his gaze, only return it with silence and a blank expression worthy of the irritation Sam was feeling now.

"As much as I'd like to thank you for saving my butt back there, you still haven't answered a single question."

Sachi stood from her place at the bench, looking away from Sam and scanning the area before stepping closer to him until they were inches apart. She didn't look at him, but seemed to be choosing her words carefully. Her mouth only opened for a moment before she shut it tightly and directed her gaze to Sam's shoes. From afar it seemed like a bit of an intimate thing. Sam with his legs apart, leaning against the railing with his hands at either side. Sachi, hands holding a portfolio against her chest and head slightly bowed. Their expressions were the only thing that gave away what was really happening.

"I warned you. You ignored me. I will tell you once more: Stay away."

With that, Sam found himself staring as the small girl walked away, down the sidewalk and towards the parking lot. He felt the urge to yell something back, something along the lines of 'Make me'. As defiant as he wished he was, the gentlemanly ways Nora Evans managed to instill in him only left him whispering his annoyance.

This sucked. Epically. At least those Al-Qaeda dudes were always briefed on what mission they were going and if suicide had been a requirement. Amanda had put him up to this without telling him that an adrenaline-driven, robust and narrow minded ghost was going to try and chew him up. Sure, he had seen movies where lost or locked souls would freak people out by turning into their deepest fears. They would bend and change themselves to suit whatever freaked the protagonist the most. Conjuring up hallucinations to either scare a person to the point of insanity or death. However, not a single one of those movies told him that a ghost could hold him down and snap at him like a Great White Shark.

"God…" Sam rubbed at his eyes and leaned back a bit more against the railing, trying to get the memory of the teeth out of his mind.

The way the bones moved would have been insanely cool, like the Hollows from that one Manga series Amanda was always obsessing over. The blond slid down to the ground when a single thought crossed his mind, one that was making his jaw clench.

What if Kurt was like that? Sure, he was nice enough when he wasn't trying to tell Sam that his red and white polo shirt wasn't very flattering to his features or that he should stop re-watching old SyFy channel movies and focus on something more interesting. Still, if Noah Puckerman could pull off having a mouth the size of a 12 inch skillet, Kurt could probably do the same. Who was to say he wasn't stringing Sam along? Maybe he wasn't like the Warrior, but sneaky and dangerous in his very own way. He remembered that he was dealing with people who used to be alive. Emphasis on the fact that they had a body, now they don't but they're still walking around like nothing has happened. He was talking, running after and away from souls. As much as he wished he were dealing with people, whose intentions were usually a bit clearer, he wasn't. Sam Evans had walked into and latched himself onto the train those thirteen, well now twelve, ghosts were still on, which he guessed was overflowing with emotional baggage.

His mind turned to Tina's face when she was screaming about her friends. Her features had been scrunched up in such pain and sadness that it felt uncomfortable even thinking about it, but it had changed. She changed when she realized there were others who could see her, who could see that she wasn't alone. If Tina had been pleased by the fact that someone was talking to her, after years of being alone, who's to say what was keeping the others locked.

Sam opened his backpack and pulled out a pencil, flipping his sketchpad open and flipping to the page with Tina's door still drawn on it. The lock was wrapped tightly over the door and Sam tried not to smack himself when he realized it was sitting right in front of it and he had basically pondered over it mere moments before. The reason they couldn't move on was different for each.

Tina had been alone. Sam made her see differently.

A door appeared.

Tina thought she wouldn't see her friends again. Kurt's words traveling through Sam's voice told her otherwise.

A chain and a lock appeared.

He told her he wasn't invisible. The door opened and she left.

A train roaring down the tracks, but the tracks were set one way: a complete circle. No matter how fast it moved the train wouldn't get off that track unless someone managed to pull that switch to get the rails to move; to make them settle on that one stretch of track that would lead them out of the loop. The only way to do that, Sam thought –as he drew lines up and down the corner of an empty page– was to rid the train of all that extra baggage. Make it easier to focus on getting it off that infinite loop and not be worried about it tipping over at every curve. It was going to be hard. Tina had appeared out of sheer luck. Kurt didn't talk about anything related to his life if he could help it. He hadn't seen that Quinn girl since the day Reuben and Carson locked him in the choir room. All Noah was fixated on was dismembering Sam. \

Dismembering Sam and Sachi.

"I should tell Amanda that." The boy scribbled at the edge of the paper, where he also drew a miniature door with a lock.

His stomach lurched at the idea of what kind of lock was keeping Noah in the school. If it was something that made him this violent against the living then it was something Sam and Amanda would have a hard time finding out. Forget helping him get through it without being sent to a hospital.

Honey, with you

Is the only way to go

And I could take two

But I really couldn't ever know

Honey, with you

And a little battered r–

"Hello?" Sam grabbed his blue backpack off the edge of the railing and sat down on the spot Sachi left moments earlier.

"Did you go, like I asked?"

"I nearly got my freaking face bitten off!" He yelled into the phone. He ran hand through his hair. Some scuffling was heard on the other end of the line.

"I knew it! Are you hurt?"

"No. No, Amanda I'm just emotionally traumatized."

"Oh, that's nothing a few Outer Limits episodes won't cure."

"Amanda, take this seriously. You sent me to hallway to die. Do you realize that?"

"I was just testing a hypothesis."

"Testing a– Wow that is original. Real. Freaking. Original." Sam kicked a nearby trashcan for good measure and regretted it when he felt a stab of pain in his left toe.

Beep! Beep!

"Oh come on Sam. At least I know why the Warrior showed up when he did."

"Yeah. Explain that to my burning lungs and scarred throat." With that he hung up the phone and waited by the edge of the sidewalk as a black 2004 Honda Elysion pulled up.

Nora Evans' smiling face appeared when the passenger-side window was pulled down.

"Hi Honey."

Sam tossed his backpack into the backseat and hopped into the passenger's side, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. He turned the radio on.

All I want is to be left alone
In my average home
But why do I always feel
Like I'm in the twilight zone

And I always feel like
Somebody's watch–

He switched the station and leaned back in his seat when the car pulled away from the school's parking lot and onto the street.

"How was your day?"

WE'REONANINFINITELOOP/BLOODISTHICKERTHANKNOWLEDGE

"Sam! Come on. Stop being such a baby."

The blond rolled over on his bed, resting on his stomach, and flipped a page of his comic book, revealing Thor in the midst of smashing an opponent into the base of a volcano. The details of the crushed earth, flying boulders and Thor's hammer, Mjolnir, were enough to keep him distracted from Amanda's constant knocking at his door. He flipped to another page to reveal a hidden sorcerer praying from a secret cavern underneath the volcano. If Thor didn't realize it and shifted…

"… He'll be in deep shit." Sam munched on a couple of Ultra-Spicy Cool Ranch Doritos, trying not to tip the bowl while scanning the page up and down several times.

"Samuel Evans!"

It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Amanda but she did send him in without warning. Not only was it extremely uncool, she probably violated several unwritten friendship and sibling rules; let alone superhero guidelines and brotherhood honors, which were really important as well. Simply put: she messed up and she wasn't the only one who knew how to give the cold shoulder. His information on the day's events did not lay forgotten, but rested among the scribbles in his notepad, leaning against the foot of his bed. He turned on his bed to face the door when the knocking stopped. He bit his lip and reached for his sketchpad, which rested at the foot of his bed. Ripping the page with pictures of Puck's horrible attack and Sachi's interruption, he folded the paper twice, and then slipped it under his door. A dark shadow came and covered the crevice between the door and the floor.

After a few minutes and a muffled 'shit' footsteps were heard and receded after a moment or so.

Sam sighed in relief and fell back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling while his left hand groped for his comic book.

He couldn't wrap his head around it. Sachi had been so angry at him but they had only met a few hours ago. She seemed calm, not quiet, but not like one of those people who showed they knew more than you did.

Maybe Sam was having a day-long déjà vu?

"No, that would mean I'd met her before. Maybe I've been eating too many Cool Ranch Doritos." The blond's right hand patted his stomach as his musings continued.

What if the world was subtly telling him to back the hell off from something that was barely starting? That girl was going to be a pain in the ass, for sure. Sam turned back to his comic, flipping to a new page where Thor had been cornered by several grotesque and deformed henchmen. He looked thoughtful before laying down his weapon in defeat. Green eyes scanned the next page where the creatures moved back, only to be slammed up and away to high-heaven by Sif.

"Sam! Seriously, stop ignoring me. I've apologized for about one-thousand times."

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to find out if Sif saved Thor at that moment, Sam left the comic on his bed and willed himself to open the door. Amanda thrust a yellow notepad into his arms and closed the door behind her. She sat down at the edge of the bed. Sam frowned at her and then read her notes.

He gave up after every third word with a 'b' in it kept getting switched with a 'd'.

Damn dyslexia.

"I'm tired; just tell me what's up." Sam fell onto his bed and kept his face on the comforter, only moving slightly to the left so he could stare at his sister's back. Amanda moved and crossed her legs, placing the notepad on the bed and crossing her arms. She kept her eyes on the darkening bruise on her brother's left cheek.

Their mother had decided to buy the story that she accidentally smacked him with a book when he sneaked up on her at school. Hopefully the pain wasn't too much.

"I really am sorry."

"You sent me to my near-death. This is worse than when Spider-Girl betrayed her father and tossed him into a vat of toxic chemicals and ran away with Puma's son." Sam muttered, more to himself than to his sister.

"If you had finished that issue of Spider Girl #188 you'd remember she didn't toss Spider-Man in there, they faked it. Also, Puma's son is an attractive whore, who could blame her?"

"You're not making this better." Sam moved his head and faced his bed's headboard.

Amanda heaved a sigh and plopped down next to her brother, spooning him slightly and sliding an arm around his waist. She frowned when she noticed the dark bruises his green tank-top didn't hide. There was the imprint of a A ghost was supposed to be a ghost, non-corporeal and unable to even touch them. This one could have ripped her brother's head clean off. Amanda snuggled closer to Sam, who didn't struggle or make any point to object, but kept staring at the headboard.

"We've only helped one ghost, we barely know about the others and now…"

"That Sachi chick is getting in the way, I know. Let's just forget and talk about it tomorrow, huh?" Amanda ran her hands through Sam's hair smiling at how his hair seemed to be a bit darker than all the others in the Evans family.

"Man–"

"Go to sleep Sam."

He didn't, not for a long time but when his breath evened out and he snored slightly, Amanda shut off the lights in the room and snuggled back against her little brother. He had started curling into himself like he did when he was younger. Amanda remembered that time well, when a younger Sam was afraid of the dark and of the deep, musky smell of the attic. When one night-light wasn't enough and their parents' assurance that the closet had no monsters didn't help him sleep. He hadn't gone to Magdalene for help, but to her. She had put a pasta-strainer on her head, picked up a plastic shield from an old Link costume and braved the closet while little Sam watched from under the covers. It had been an annoying task back then, having to kick the imaginary bogeyman's butt every other day.

Now it was endearing. Sam had endured something so hard, mixed with all the insecurities he had been carrying since the first day of high-school, which was going to pour over him eventually. Not at the moment, he had only been frustrated today but it was going to accumulate. She wasn't blind to his friendship with Kurt and his insistence on talking to the ghost every day.

She wasn't blind to the way he would stare just a little bit longer than with other people.

Her thoughts of the younger Sam faded away and she tried not to cry as the possible outcomes of Puck's attacked washed through her. The sudden sadness that rang in her heart was causing her to tighten her grip on her brother. The anger she felt for herself was creating a steady 'bang' in her mind. A headache was sure to follow. It had been so stupid of her to ask him. That damned Warrior could have easily ripped him to death.

The thought of her fourteen year old kid brother lying in a pool of his own blood, scarred and mangled, nearly forced the night's dinner back up her throat.

"You're such an idiot. I'm making you take on this world and it's kicking you at the starting line Sammy." Amanda muttered as she closed her eyes.

She kept her grip on him tight, trying to assure herself that he would still be there tomorrow.


`author's note: So I said 3 weeks and it's really been around 4, or maybe 4 and a half. Still, thank you so much to all of you who have been reading this, reviewing it and generally helping me. This is not only for you guys, but for me, a growing experience. Also, there is a reason for Puck being able to beat the shit out of Sam and for the Evans siblings to be able to touch them. ITS COMING. Just wait a little longer. I'm not following TRADITIONAL ghost rules here for the moment, because I'm going super-super-supernatural on this story. It reminds me of something along the lines of 'when you eliminate the theories, whatever is left, however improbable, must be the answer'.

Translations: All the translations are from an online translator that I'm not sure is accurate. Don't flame me for it, but correct me if I'm wrong.

Anata wa bakadesu. Jisatsu baka yarō! - You are an idiot. A suicidal idiot!

Watashi wa tōzakatte iru koto o katatta - I told you to stay away.