Happy New Year everyone! Thanks for reading and thanks especially to Ella Greggs , who reviewed my first 4 chapters individually! Why can't of you be that awesome? Doesn't matter to me anyway, it stil cool that y'all read this in the first place! Wow okay, this chapter is a bit long, and the future chapters will probably follow this similar style, the viewpoints of Kurt (the private eye in this case), Iverson & E (The cops) and The Voice and its victims. Okay, have fun!

Kurt looked on at the girl in the toilet bowl, motionless since he got there. Drowning? Tina, why? He didn't have much time to ponder, with the girl next to him about to faint, he quickly tried to catch her. Tried was the word of the day, as in trying to catch someone twice your weight. Kurt tried, but failure was imminent as he fell on his ass, followed by Mercedes on him.

"Rachel! Help me here!" Rachel, after sometime and with Kurt pushing with all his might, manage to roll the girl off Kurt and propped her up against the wall. Rachel, still looing dishevelled from seeing the body, didn't need a full body workout because strength never follows stress. Kurt could only look on at the scene: Mercedes, out cold and Rachel for once, silent. Maybe more people should die if they shut Rachel up, maybe the jocks? Tina's parents had already called the police, and Rachel was called over because she lied just down the road.

"Why…" The diva, no the female one, whispered out. "..why did she do this to herself?" Kurt pulled the girl in to his arms as she wept on his shoulders. Kurt wasn't always the gentlemen, especially to Rachel but two dead friends does change your perspective.

"Rach, look" Kurt noticed something he shouldn't have. He noticed her right hand, and a small edge of a crumpled paper in it. He bent down towards the corpse of his friend and tried to shimmy it out of her hands. No dice. Damn. Oh damn, I guess I'll have to…. He pulled a few tissue papers from the sink and return to the hand, and he began to pry it open, much to Rachel's chagrin. Rigor mortis had already set in, with the hand making a resounding CRACK as it finally opened. Rachel somehow held it down; thankful she ate a salad at lunch.

"Do we really want to read this Kurt? That could be her final thoughts, about why she did it." Kurt knitted his brows together as Rachel tried to reason with him out of opening the note.

"After I touched her and cracked open her hands? You could have said that earlier." Kurt huffed. "And we should, as her friends" Kurt's logic was as obvious as the fact that they had a body in a toilet bowl next to them.

"Ok..ay" The two of them huddled together as the peered into the messed up paper. They shuddered as they read the word inside. Oh Gucci….this isn't a suicide note! This is….a murder notice. Who did this to her?

'BREATHE' it read. Oh my Gaga.

"I see you driving round town with the girl I like…."

Santana hummed along with the radio that was next to her. She just got word that they found Tina dead in her toilet. It was already hard dealing with the death of, and she hated to admit it, friends, she had a second one in her lap in one day. Brittany hadn't been informed about any of the deaths, the Latino girl made sure that she was in her room today during the 'unicorn showers of death'.

Dammit. That's all she was thinking inside her tanning bed. It was tiny, it was cramped, it was a claustrophobic's nightmare. And it was where Santana would always go in times of stress, or in this case, grief. Grief over the loss of two friends, two people that changed her life. Why did I have to be so mean to them? Because I wanted to climb the social ladder, duh. She kept bantering with herself back and forth in her tormented mind. Pathetic. That's all she could think about herself.

CLICK!

Huh? "Hey! Who the hell turned off my radio? Mom, is that you?"

"Summertime and the livin' is easy"

What the hell? Is that Jazz? "Hey, turn my music back on!" No response came from outside. From the small crack from within the tanning bed, Santana could see a figure standing outside. "Eh idiota! Can you hear me? Puede hablar Inglés?" No luck, as the figure just stood there. Then the figure bent down towards the tanning bed, and started to do something to it. Okay, that's it. Santana pushed against the ceiling of the bed. It didn't budge an inch. Oh mi dios.

"Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high"

"Let me out of here!" Santana began to hit the roof of the tanning bed as hard as she could. Oh mi dios, oh mi dios, oh mi dios, who the fuck is that outside? She tried reaching out of the crack to grab at the figure's body, but after realising her hands were too short to reach the now fay away figure, she returned to banging on the ceiling of her toasty coffin. Toasty? Is it, is it getting hotter in here? She looked at her arm and the beads of perspiration on it. Oh mi dios. The voice had turned up the temperature on the tanning bed. It stood back as it listen to the cacophony from with the tanning bed. It cracked a malicious smile as it opened its mouth to sing.

"Oh your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'"

Santana began to cry as she heard the music and the song from the outside. She began to weep as she realised her skin began to sting more. "Let me out you bastard! Déjame salir de aquí! Oh my god! Why the hell are you doing this?" As she continued to beat against her prison, which was now heating up, all she could do was scream. Scream like the preverbal scared girl that she was. She didn't care about how others would she her there and then. I need to get out, I need to get out I need to see her. She only cared for her survival. And killing whoever the hell was doing that to her. I need to see Brittany.

Wha..? The roof of the tanning bed suddenly became fuzzy looking to her, as the sweat was now drenching her. Between spitting out sweat that was falling into her mouth and trying to breathe with her heavier breaths, she persisted. Through the pain on her fist, through the heat and thick air, through the fear of whoever was outside, she kept on going. No….. She kept on going till she couldn't anymore. Santana's Body finally crumbled to inside the tanning bed as the heat began to envelope her. Her breaths heavier as her vision faded, faster and faster. Brittany… And her world faded to black, put the pain didn't for a while. Then, it all just ended.

The voice undid the lock it had placed on the tanning bed and opened it up. Before it laid a body that befouled the air with a burnt smell. The girl had died with the most agonising expression on her face, the last thoughts of Santana Lopez inside it somewhere. The voice chuckled. Chuckled at the sight of the dead girl. It reached into its pocket and pulled out a similar piece of paper and placed it on her eyes. The deed was done, to this one at least. The song picked up again as the voice opened up and sang out from its cold soul.

"So hush little baby, don't you cry"

Sergeant Iverson had enough for one day. A crippled student that committed suicide from a window, a principal that had his head sliced all the way, another student that was riddled with coins from a shotgun and now this. A girl apparently charred alive. She wasn't burnt, but the odour that emitted from her begged to differ.

"About time you got here Iverson." A man, about in his 30s spoke up from the side, typing furiously away on his laptop. Sergeant Edmond Bones, or E as he liked to be called was Iverson's partner. He finished up the report and closed his laptop, striding up to the older man that was staring at the girl. Pervert.

"E, about time you got here. The local cops haven't been that helpful" Iverson lamented at the Captain that had not only bungled up evidence, but had given him the wrong directions to the crime scene. The rest of the force weren't any better, he hadn't received any reports from the local CSI, and with circumstances, they better have and fast. "What do we have here?"

"Santana Lopez, 16, found dead about an hour ago, estimated TOD, about two hours. From the looks of it, she put up a struggle." E pointed to Santana's knuckles, which her covered in blood clots. "Based off the lock I found on the floor, she was trapped inside, and someone turned up the heat" Iverson glanced at the temperature dial, which was cranked up to the max. "The stress and fear caved in on her, along with the heat and exhaustion from her attempt to get out, and she passed out and died."

Nasty way to go. Both men thought as they approached the familiar black box that was next to the radio on the table. "We found two similar boxes at the other two deaths."

"Figgins and Adam's?" E asked with slight apprehension. "I found a similar one at the crime scene I just came from, Tina Cohen-Chang, 16, student at the local school dead from drowning."

"Yup, and worse of all according to the guy that I was talking to when I got here, there was a guy that committed suicide this morning. Guess what was found near him?" E almost chocked at the thought. This was serious.

"A black box like this one?" Iverson nodded. "Alright hold up there, you mean we have a body count of five? And this is all in one day?" E asked out in exasperation as Iverson nodded again. "Shit man, we've gone in over our heads in this one. This isn't coincidental now, they're all found dead with a black box that plays a jazz instrumental. Iverson, this is an M.O. We have a serial killer on our hands, shit."

"That's not the only M.O." Iverson said as he noticed a familiar perfect piece of paper near the girls head. He reached to pick it up and waved it at E. "We found similar pieces of paper exactly this size at Figgins and Adam's crime scenes." E looked at it and swore. He had seen one at that girl's crime scene, crumpled up.

"What does it say?" Iverson passed E the paper as he read it and swore again. He looked at Iverson with a look of desperation. "Alright, we have a killer, do we go public with this? It's like five dead, that's enough to call in the FBI."

"Right now, just get the bodies back to the local station. Tell the local cops to suspend all school activities, seems like all the victims are from the school. Get a database of all the students and faculty of William McKinley High School and see if you can find any connection. And don't say a word to the locals, we'll call the higher ups tomorrow.' Iverson turned and headed for the door. "And E? Find the songs playing on each of the MP3s and pass them to me ASAP." Iverson turn and walked out, clutching onto the paper I his hands. Dammit, who the hell would do this to kids? The paper was the last straw for Iverson. This was Insane Land, with a maniac killing people. He looked down once more at the paper, and it taunted him in bold black words. 'Medium or well done?'

Whew, that was A LOT. And yes, this is similar to the Final Destination murder, but not as gory, don't wanna put you guys off. Hope you all liked it, and unfortunately, school is starting soon for me, so maybe I can put out 2 chapters a week, if I'm lucky, but I am dedicated, AND I WILL FINISH THIS STORY! Like always, reviews are always welcomed and your opinions do affect the story (if I feel like it). =P Have a wonderful New Year!