So here it is. After a brief absence (not really), I'm back to finish this story. I'm not a fan of dragging things out as long as possible or giving fake-outs so believe me when I say that this story will conclude in a couple of chapters. After all, the events take place in a span of two nights.
While I may not get a lot of comments, I get absolutely high over the fact that people are ACTUALLY reading my little story. Thank you, sincerely.
As always, this story has no beta.
"I'm suppose you won't be giving me a ride out of town after this, huh?"
The man holding Kurt in a tight headlock was quiet. " I haven't hurt anyone since arriving," Kurt continued," I haven't even tasted human blood since the 60's."
Puck failed to reply or even open his mouth. The guy was a follower, Kurt deduced, and even if he managed to reason his way through Puck's thick yet attractive skull, he doubted Puck would do much against Rachel.
She was a foot away now, the silver stake glowing in her steady grip. Rachel would've loved the Salem Witch Trials.
"You want to be remembered as some noble monster," Rachel asked. "Don't beg. It cheapens you even if your information was going to lead us into a trap." So the group made-up for their inexperience with zealousness. Cute.
"And what are the fabulous clues leading you to that conclusion," he replied.
"The last time we believed a vampire was capable of helping us, one of our own died."
Kurt caught Puck look away as Rachel drew back the stake, leaving no moment to respond. He simply took his first breath in decades and murmured a spell.
Kurt tensed his muscles as his feet slammed against the wooden paneling, releasing a wave of pressure and heat that shattered the dated floor and visibly warped the oxygen around them.
Wooden chips and dust flew into the air, launching Puck through the living room ceiling before disappearing into the second floor. Kurt saw the wave of pressure shake and tear the stake from Berry's hand, pitching her into wood, steel and cottony insulation as her body broke through the living room wall. She loudly landed somewhere in the backyard.
As the energy died down, Kurt fell to the floor, his burst ear drums already healed. Along with the black converse he was wearing, the technique had wiped out all the strength in his legs.
Kurt knew what to expect when his finger tips prodded against his legs. The shockwave had turned his long slender legs into trails of shattered knee caps and broken feet, the cracks evident even through the dark denim of his jeans.
The trick had done its job, removing him from any near death scenarios by wiping everyone else off the board. A combination of magic and strength, the move was taught to him by a silver golem he dated for a few months during the 70's. Decades of introspection later, Kurt still wasn't sure why his ex taught him the technique or why he even found Kurt attractive to begin with. A story for another time he supposed, if he ever ran into his ex again.
Minutes passed as Kurt remained on the floor, his legs slowly repairing themselves. His working senses were on overdrive, surveilling his surroundings in case either of the slayers decided to wake up. He caught the scent of blood drifting from the second floor, most likely from Puck being injured in the blast. He made a quick memo to help Puck as soon as he was able to walk.
Outside, Kurt heard nothing but the soft padding of a cat's paws as it walked over the tender face of an unconscious slayer. From the purring and Rachel's muffled breathing that followed, Kurt guessed that the stray cat had decided to perch itself on her face.
He reached for a nearby chip of wood and tossed it through the gaping hole in the house, striking the cat. The rustling of grass and shaking bush branches told him that the animal had gotten the message and made a run for it. Casually suffocated by a cat wasn't how Rachel wanted to go, Kurt guessed.
High-pitched sirens broke Kurt's stream of thoughts. They belonged to the police, likely alerted by neighbors who heard the small explosion coming from the only 'abandoned' house on the block. From the pitch of the siren, the authorities were likely only a few blocks away.
Plans, by their nature, always changed at the critical moment. In the face of disaster, the key wasn't to lament how uncooperative the whole town seemed when Kurt was merely trying to prevent a micro-apocalypse from wiping out the town of Lima.
One had to adapt and never second guess their actions.
Kurt only had a minute, at most, to scoop Puck and Rachel out of his former home and leave them in an empty ditch. They would have to recover without him hovering over them. After that he would make a run to his old high school, snatch up the essence of Glorificus stranded in the basement of the main building (if his sources were correct) and then...well hopefully things would sort themselves out.
As the sirens drew closer and the last fracture in his thigh repaired itself, Kurt rose from the ground and was gone. Seconds later so were the bodies of Puck and Rachel. The night grew darker still.
So Kurt managed to come out on top and show he isn't a bastard. Mostly.
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Next Chapter-Well...someone blonde will be making her first appearance.