Jason M. Shaw, Colleen S. Neil, Michael E. Griffin, Albina Ricci, and Robyn R. Crawford have all been killed.
Daniel Rogers, Cynthia Martin, Martin Brenner, Noelle Hatfield, Connie Kane, Kathryn Jones, and Micheal Hopper have been captured and are being held prisoner.
Thomas Russell, Nelson Carter, Mary Dillon, Linda Foster, Olivia Walker, Eric Keller, Victor Shipp, David Mason, Mary Oakes, Susan Shields, and Blaine Anderson are still missing, but a team has been sent out to find these missing...things.
It started to physically pain Blaine to watch the news now. Everyday, somebody new was dead or captured. People he knew, people like him. He couldn't understand why this was happening. Many of these people wouldn't even hurt a fly, from what he knew of them. Many of their power couldn't even do any type of harm to people. They would never do anything to deserve this.
Then again, he never thought he would be close to killing anyone either.
The dim light of the TV was the only light source in the dark living room, as it was almost midnight and Kurt's entire family was asleep. Even Kurt was, as Blaine looked down at him. Kurt was curled up into his side, fast asleep, but still gripping tightly. He knew what was happening, he knew that Blaine was in danger. They both refused to be separated again. Blaine pushed back a small strand of hair off his face. He was so calm and peaceful when he slept, something Blaine hasn't felt in weeks, not since he left his home. Every day he lived in fear that his family, Joseph, or even Karofsky would come forward and tell what he had done. It wouldn't be that hard to find him really, it was fairly obvious he would be with Kurt. He just wonders why no one has come forward yet.
He hated being cooped up here though. It's been weeks that he's stayed inside this house. His wings felt cramped, he needed to fly. During the day, he was in the basement, the storage room for the Hummel's. At night, sometimes he watched tv, sometimes he was in Kurt's room just talking and cuddling. But he was starting to get sick of it. He needed to be free, to fly around. He couldn't though, his safety was put first. Blaine was starting to get impatient and angry. When no one is home, he started trowing whatever he could get his hands on in the basement. He tried to convince Kurt to let him fly around at night, when no one could see him, especially if he wore all black, but Kurt refused.
Blaine felt his leg beginning to fall asleep, so he shifted a little to try to be a bit more comfortable. In doing so, he heard Kurt give a little grunt, signifying he was now awake. "mmm, what'sgoingon," he mumbled. Blaine pulled him close and brushed the little bit of hair that just fell on his face.
"Nothing dear, go back to sleep," Blaine whispered. Kurt curled up again, and Blaine started humming a simple melody into his ear. Soon, he could feel that Kurt was asleep again. Blaine smiled down at him. He was no longer an empty shell that he was a few weeks ago, now he was radiating happiness, even more so when he was around Blaine. Yet, Blaine was still worried about him. After school, he came straight home, he barely talked to his family, and he never went out with friends anymore, just to be around Blaine. He told Kurt that he should go out more, spend time with his friends, but he refused. He didn't want to leave Blaine's side in case he was taken again. Which deep down inside, Blaine knew was going to happen. He couldn't hide forever.
The tv droned on. Blaine stared at the screen for a few moments, not paying attention to the informercial currently on. His eyes suddenly felt heavy, and soon, he was also asleep.
Kurt and Finn were at school, Burt and Carole were working, and Blaine was feeling more restless than ever. He needed to get out of this damn basement. His normal stress relief of throwing things was not helping, in fact, it was making it worse. He tried to just fly a tiny bit, just to stretch them out. But the ceiling was too low and the room was too small. Blaine searched for an exit because the door was always locked. There was a small window, but there was no way to get through there with his wings.
Fire began spurting from his hands; Blaine was losing control. He was getting desperate for fresh air, for freedom. The door was his only way out. He lit up a small flame in his palm, ready to make his escape, when his conscience kicked in. This wasn't his property, he shouldn't be destroying things. His wings gave an impatient twitch. Blaine knew that this was wrong, but right now, he had needs and he needed to do something. He's been pent up in this basement for too long. They would understand.
But if they really did understand, they wouldn't have kept him inside for so long. A bitter voice inside his head said. Blaine shrugged the thought away. He went up to the door, took the small flame, and put it against the hinges, making them weaker, until he felt it was enough and kicked the door down. He ran out into the backyard, and looked for a place to go. Nearby there was a small wood, where the trees were tall enough that Blaine could fly around and still be hidden. He ran there.
As soon as he got some cover, he lifted off. He soared and maneuvered around the evergreens, being careful to not get too high, he knew he was slightly bigger than the average bird in these parts, and he was sure it would gain unwanted attention. He was free, any pain and anger from being cooped up for so long, slowly drifted away. He perched on a tree branch and looked around. Maybe he could live here. Sure, living in the woods may not be the most glamorous life, but at least he could be free and somewhat safe. He could build a small shelter, and he could never get cold since he had a constant source of heat, and it was still close to Kurt. Yes, he would go tell the Hummel's his plan, but after apologizing profusely for the door. Just then, he felt a bullet whiz by his face.
With his instinct, Blaine flew behind a tree and looked for the source. A man was walking his way, with a gun held up to his face. Blaine breathed heavily.
"I knew it was too good to be true." He laughed to himself. He analyzed the man, trying to predict what his next move would be. He looked slow, he was concentrating too much with aim, trying to shoot to where he was, not where he is going. If he moved fast enough, he could avoid any shots fired at him, maybe even make it back to Kurt's house. But what if the guy followed him there? Not only would he be in trouble, but Kurt's entire family also. He read that Jason Shaw, one of the diseased, was hiding away with his wife and young son. Then someone found them, there was a struggle, and Jason was killed in front of his family. After wards, his wife and son were taken to prison for 'hiding the enemy'.
Blaine wasn't sure of what to do. He couldn't run forever and he couldn't put anybody at risk for his own selfish reasons. Another gunshot rang out. If this kept going, the whole neighborhood would know about him. He didn't want to run anymore, he was tired of hiding. Hot tears crept up in his eyes. He was sad, upset, and angry. This wasn't fair. He shouldn't have to be caged, and he should especially never have to be hunted.
He knew what he was going to do now.
He soared and swooped between the trees, moving quickly to confuse the man. He flew up high, and the rushed down to the ground, straight at the man, firing a burst of flame to throw off his aim, and knocked him to the ground. Upon impact, the man let go of the gun and Blaine picked it up and threw it to the side. He lit a flame in his hand, and walked towards the man. The man started glowing brightly with fear, no, more like utter terror.
"What are you doing?" Blaine threatened getting closer to the man, who was scooting further back, doing anything to get away from him.
"You're one of them," he spat. "I was just doing my duty as a good citizen."
"By hunting me?" Blaine began to feel his anger rising. "By treating me like an animal? I think it's time to break it to you, but I am a person, as is anyone else who got this stupid disease, just like you. This is what is wrong with society, everybody is too afraid to accept something new." By the time Blaine was finished, he had picked the man up, and although he was much taller, Blaine had them see eye-to-eye. Blaine was seething by now. Any anger he had against anything boiled up to the surface. He forgot everything he had been taught about, his mind clouded with the rage. He was tired of being hated for who he was, some things he never had a choice with. The man spit in his face, and that was the final straw for Blaine. He threw the man as hard as he could, he hit a nearby tree, and Blaine heard a loud snap. As soon as he hit the ground, the man went limp. Blaine walked over to his side, and saw that the man was bleeding from somewhere on his head and his glow was fading quickly. When the glow completely disappeared, the man stopped breathing.
He was dead.