A/N: Hi everybody, sorry it's taken me so long to update! I hate making excuses, but I have my debs ball in two weeks and I've been going crazy trying to find a dress and shoes and everything… But now I've got everything covered, so it's all cool!

As usual, the support for this story has been just outstanding. Every time I check my inbox and see a new review, I squeal. So, thank you to the following people: MmmStrawberryLips, LittleMissCheese, SawyersNumberOneFan, TotesGleek120, Noway, Bella1992, JMHawthorne, LiveLoveLaughLife and OMG. Thanks for the support, keep it up!

Title? Down Goes Another One by McFly.

DISCLAIMER: Do you really think if I owned Glee Kurt would still be boyfriendless?

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Shelby Corcoran pulled to a stop in her Prius with a squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber hung in the air. She leapt from the vehicle, her aluminium bat clutched in her hand. Fury bubbled in the pit of her stomach and it was all she could do to stop herself from screaming with pent-up frustration. The journey to Lake Witkeel had been a complete nightmare. She couldn't get there fast enough, though she was pretty sure she had broken about a dozen state speed limits in her attempt. The whole time her mind had been brimming with images of Rachel, dark mixed in with light, good with bad.

She would protect her daughter, if it was the last thing she did.

The ground was slick with mud, the by-product of recent rainfall, and Shelby slipped slightly as she stumbled towards the large wooden lodge where the McKinley kids were staying. She thanked the heavens that Puck had let it slip when she and Beth met him in the grocery store.

The place was brightly lit; lamplight poured like golden butter from the large glass windows. However, she couldn't hear and tell-tale sounds of chatter or laughter, and that worried her. If there was one thing she had learned in her years coaching Vocal Adrenaline, it was that teenagers never stayed quiet for long.

As though to compound her fears, the front door to the building swung open at her light touch. Something was most definitely not right here.

"Rachel?" she called in a wavering voice. "Rachel, are you here?"

Silence.

"Will? Quinn? Puck? Anybody?"

No answer.

"Dammit!" Shelby groaned. The place was deserted. Perhaps they were still unaware of the danger, oblivious to the horror Jesse had revealed to her, and had gone on a ramble or a picnic. Or perhaps… perhaps she was too late. Paranoia gripped her in a vice-like hold as she scanned what appeared to be a communal area for any sign of a struggle. Nothing immediately sprung to attention, but there was something unnerving about the vast emptiness of the huge building. Shelby tightened her grip on the bat and padded gingerly down the nearest hallway. The carpet muffled the thump of her heels.

Just like the communal area, this corridor too was silent. However, one of the doors stood slightly ajar. She crept forward and pushed it wide open. A horrific smell overpowered her and she swayed on the spot.

There was a girl in there. A dead girl. She recognised her as the Asian girl Jesse used to mention in passing. Tina something-or-other. The one with the not-so-stutter. Jesse had said she was dating the boy in the wheelchair, and he got Shelby almost nervous when he recounted their performance of Dream a Little Dream. The kid in the wheelchair had sung, and he was good, Jesse said. And this girl, this girl who was lying pale and prone and going into rigor mortis, had danced with the other Asian kid, the footballer. Jesse said they were talented.

Shelby staggered out of the room, a hand clamped over her nose and mouth to prevent herself from vomiting. Jesse's words were like a broken record, replaying endlessly in her head: Glee's not safe.

He'd sure as hell been right about that.

Terror gripped her as she continued to stumble down the corridor.

"Rachel?" she called, her voice hitching almost hysterically. "Rachel, are you here?"

She slammed open door after door, half-afraid of what she might find. All the bedrooms lay empty, the only sign of human life the suitcases which were spilling their contents onto the floor like blood pouring from an open wound. Shelby shivered subconsciously.

When she reached the last door on the corridor, a shot of static seemed to ripple through her. She gulped loudly.

Women's intuition, she thought grimly and wrenched the door open.

It was another bedroom, one evidently occupied by teenage girls. A curling tongs lay on one dresser, straightening irons on the other. The beds were laden down with make-up products and clothes were strewn everywhere haphazardly. It smelled of floral perfume, and one of the occupants had brought a set of red-and-white McKinley High Cheerios-issue pompoms with her. A six pack of Natty Light sat on the floor, a couple of cans missing, and the drapes were drawn.

Shelby made her way cautiously across the dimly-lit room and put one hand on the drapes to open them. The tingling sensation happened again. She pulled.

She blinked.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream.

/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

"Will?" Emma asked, picking her way gingerly through the undergrowth. She was wearing a pair of blue hospital-issue shoe covers on her feet and latex gloves that she had pulled up as far as her elbows. "Do you think it was a good idea to split the kids into pairs? I mean, I've never watched a horror movie- too much blood and dirt- but from what I gather splitting up never works out too well."

Will sighed and ran a hand through his head of curls. He looked tired, older than Emma had ever seen him look. The events of the last few days were clearly taking their toll on him.

"Will?"

"No Emma," he said tonelessly. "I don't think it was a good idea. I don't think it was a good idea at all. But the fact is, we don't have much of a choice. There are three kids missing in this forest, and another three are dead. I have to get Puck and Santana and Artie back safely. I'll never forgive myself if I don't."

"Will, this isn't your fault-"

"Yes it is, Emma! I was the one who brought them here, I-I sealed their fate. I'm supposed to be their teacher, but I didn't protect them. I failed them."

"Will," Emma said again, and she took his hand in a tight grip. "This is not your fault. You are doing your very best to keep the kids safe, and that's all anyone can ask of you. You are not the guilty party here, that honour belongs solely to the creep who is doing all of this."

She spoke so fiercely that Will stared at her. She was panting slightly with exertion, not being one for grand speeches, and her normally immaculate hair had come loose from the low chignon she had been wearing it in. He reached out to tidy it up and smiled.

"Did anyone ever tell you how amazing you are?" he asked her softly. Emma flushed and dimples appeared in her cheeks.

"Only when I did their chores for them," she whispered back.

"Did Carl ever tell you?"

"Will, I-"

Will held up a hand to stop her. He glanced around wildly. "Did you hear that?" he mouthed.

Emma shook her head no, but just as she did so she heard a rustling in the bushes nearby. She let out a tiny squeal. "It's coming from over there."

"Get behind me," said Will firmly.

"Will-"

"Do it Emma."

She complied meekly as the rustling noise intensified. Whatever or whoever was in there was coming closer. Will crept towards the noise, grabbing a thick tree branch and hoisting it high in the air. He braced himself as something tumbled from the undergrowth.

He screamed.

It screamed.

He lofted the branch.

"Mr Schue!" Mercedes exclaimed. "Mr Schue, it's us!"

She leaned back into the undergrowth to push some thick brambles aside and Matt limped awkwardly into view. His face was contorted with pain and he seemed to be using a thin branch as a crude crutch.

"Guys, what happened?" Will asked.

"Matt got his leg caught in some sort of trap," explained Mercedes, helping the footballer into a more secure position. He nodded grimly.

"We, uh, we think it was the same sort of thing Tina got caught up in," he muttered. Will and Emma exchanged a frantic glance that did not go unnoticed by the two teenagers.

"Someone's hunting us down, right?" Mercedes guessed, a challenge in her voice as though daring them to contradict her. "Like some sort of crazy-ass horror movie?"

Will sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to speak. Emma, realising this, pulled herself up to her full height and attempted to get into guidance counsellor mode. She nodded sharply to Mercedes.

"It appears that way, yes."

"This is a hot damn mess," the diva whispered. Matt wrapped one arm around her consolingly.

"We need to find the others," he said in a halting voice. "Before… before…"

He couldn't finish, but he didn't need to. Silent understanding passed between the quartet and they all nodded.

"Kurt and Brittany took the trail to the left of ours," said Will.

"And Rachel and Finn said they'd loop around by the lake," Matt added. "But they were moving pretty fast, they could be halfway across the mountain by now…"

"OK," Emma said with another sharp nod. "Well let's focus on finding Brittany and Kurt, and then maybe we can track the others down."

/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

Meanwhile, Rachel and Finn had frozen with their faces inches away from each other. Rachel's' brown eyes had widened impossibly and Finn's face was devoid of colour.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered to the petite girl. "I mean… I didn't imagine it or anything? Cos I do that sometimes."

"No Finn," replied Rachel. "You didn't imagine it. I heard it too."

As though to confirm this, another piercing scream whistled through the air to their waiting ears. The couple exchanged frantic glances.

"That was a guy's voice," Finn said with certainty. "It might be Puck, or Artie."

"Or Matt or Mr Schue," added Rachel. "Not Kurt though. But it could be any of the others… and it sounded like they were in a lot of pain."

"Whoever it is, it came from this direction," Finn said, pointing through the trees towards the sound of the lake water lapping. "Let's go."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Rachel's voice was little more than a squeak, all her former confidence forgotten. "The killer could have them. It could be a trap."

Finn gave her a fierce frown. "I don't care what's going on. They're our friends Rach, we have to do what we can to help them."

He took off into the woods, leaving Rachel standing in his wake. She bit her lip for one long moment and then followed him. Her dark hair whipped behind her as she sprinted to keep up with Finn's long strides, occasionally catching on the branches of the trees which were growing close together in this dense part of the woods. When he realised she was following him, Finn turned around to take her hand and pulled her along with him. Rachel couldn't help feeling a slight thrill as their hands brushed together. Finn's large, cool hand felt pleasant against her own, which was slick with sweat.

Together, they crashed through the undergrowth. Rachel squirmed as a small rodent ran over her foot, but she bit her tongue to stop herself from screaming. She didn't want Finn to think she was scared, otherwise he wouldn't let her come with him when they figured out what was going on. So she held her tongue and focused on keeping pace with the tall quarterback, who was craning his neck to follow the screams that were echoing at intervals. Eventually, he drew to a stop, so suddenly that Rachel crashed into his broad back. Finn's hands slid around her waist to steady her and he pressed a finger to his lips.

They could hear the noise more clearly now, and as pale moonlight began to seep through the dark silhouettes of the trees, Rachel realised that whoever owned the voice was just a couple of hundred yards away. Her breath caught in her chest and she listened keenly as they crept forward cautiously. It was a strange sound, a half-choked scream punctuated by rasping, rattling breaths. Rachel shot Finn an anxious glance.

"It sounds like they're being strangled," she mouthed to him. Finn nodded and continued to move forward slowly.

All of a sudden, Rachel's foot caught on a half-exposed tree root and she stumbled forward, knocking both herself and Finn out of the comforting seclusion of the forest and into full view. Immediately, Finn jumped in front of her protectively, wheeling around in search of the cold-blooded killer. Rachel, however, stepped out neatly from behind him wearing a soft expression and pointed down the lake shore.

"I think I'm safe enough," she murmured sadly and jogged towards the source of the noise, who was neither dead nor dying.

Noah Puckerman was lying in a crumpled heap over the still, pale form of Quinn Fabray. Behind them, Rachel could see an old-fashioned bathtub, the kind with clawed feet. Quinn's eyes were closed, and she looked almost peaceful, but her hair was slick to her head with what looked like slushie seeping from the roots down her neck to her thin shoulders. Like Kurt had said, she was most definitely dead.

And Puck… Puck was clutching her close to him with his face buried in her cornsilk blonde hair. His strong hands were stroking her face tenderly and the pained screaming noise was coming from him. His shoulders were shaking violently and Rachel realised with intense horror that he was crying. Noah Puckerman was crying.

"Do something," she hissed frantically at Finn. He shook his head violently.

"Why me?"

"You're his best friend!"

"Former. And you dated him!"

"For a period so brief it's hardly worth mentioning," Rachel countered, but her defiant expression faltered and, after shooting Finn a look of pure venom, she turned her back on him and ran to Puck's side.

"Noah," she said softly, placing her hands on his shoulderblades. "Noah, it's OK."

"No it fucking isn't!" he growled between sobs. He twisted to face her and Rachel's stomach plummeted. His usually strong, sly face was a mask of grief. His mouth sagged down at the corners and tears carved grimy tracks down his cheeks. "How the hell can it be? When Quinn is- when Quinn is-"

"I know," Rachel murmured as he began to sob again.

"You know what the worst part is?" Puck asked her breathlessly. "The real freakin' killer? It's that I never even told her how I felt. I spent all my time pokin' fun at her and callin' her a MILF and makin' her miserable and now… now…"

"I know," Rachel repeated, as kindly as she could manage.

"I was supposed to be her boyfriend and I sucked so bad, you know? Like, I sucked royally. And what sucks the most is that I really frickin' cared. I cared about her. I used to walk past her in the hall just so I could smell that lilac perfume she uses, and when she left her cardigan at my pool party after sectionals I kept it so that I could just smell it and think of her. And when she told me she was havin' my baby… it was like nothin' else mattered. But do you think I told her that? I'm Puckzilla, I rule McKinley with an iron fist and nunchucks, but do you think I could bring myself to tell Quinn Fabray I loved her? Nope. I just told her to stop gettin' fat."

"Noah, I think Quinn-"

"I freakin' loved her Berry! I loved her but I couldn't get over my stupid ego and just tell her. And now sh-she's gone, and she'll never… I mean, I never…"

"She knew Noah," Rachel said gently, easing the broad-shouldered football player to his feet. "A girl always knows."

"You really think so?" Puck whispered bleakly. Rachel rubbed soothing circles in his back and Finn came to hold him up on the other side.

"I know so," she replied firmly. "Now come on, let's get you back to the lodge. You're freezing."

Before he could utter another word of argument, the other two began to lead a dazed Puck back through the trees. Finn smiled at Rachel over his shaved head.

"You were great," he mouthed. Rachel blushed and went back to massaging Puck's back with her gaze rooted firmly on the ground. They trudged along in silence for a couple of minutes until Finn slipped slightly on something on the ground. He looked down slowly and gulped.

"Th-that's blood," he said shakily. Immediately, three pairs of eyes began to follow the trail. It lead onto the dirt track, so they hastened to follow it. The blood pools grew larger as they progressed towards the road and Finn hurried ahead to push the branches out of the way for the others. He had just stepped out onto the road when he gave a yelp.

"Jeez, you guys scared me!" he exclaimed. Rachel and Puck looked at each other, confused, and hurried to catch up with him. What they found surprised them. Finn was standing with Kurt and Brittany, both of whom looked uncharacteristically sombre.

"Dude, what's goin' on?" Puck demanded, looking from one to the other. Finn blinked.

"I was just about to ask the same thing," he shrugged. Everyone turned to Kurt for an answer, knowing it wouldn't come from Brittany. The camp fashionista sighed miserably and wrapped one arm around the blonde cheerleader, who was trembling from head to foot.

"Artie's dead," he mumbled. "They- uh, they-"

"They chopped him up into little pieces and put them on the road for us to find, like a scavenger hunt," Brittany finished. A shocked silence engulfed them all for the longest of moments. Then Finn glanced up the track towards the lodge and frowned.

"Hey," he said slowly, turning to face the others. "We didn't leave any lights on, did we?"

/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

"Finn's right," Brittany said a couple of minutes later as they approached the house. "We didn't leave any lights on. I know because I get scared in the dark, so I was holding Kurt's soft little baby hand as we went out the front door."

For once, she was right. They were all certain that the house had been in darkness when they left. Worse, they knew they hadn't left the front door swinging open like this. No matter how panicked they were, they weren't that stupid.

"Do you think we should go in?" Rachel asked quietly. "This reeks of horror movie blood-bath."

"We're goin' in," said Puck fiercely. "The bastard that killed Quinn could be in there."

Before anyone could stop him, he pushed past them into the lodge. Kurt and Finn followed immediately, with Brittany and Rachel bringing up the rear.

"Who's in here?" Puck yelled furiously. "You come out here, or I'll rip your head off, I swear it!"

"Puck, shut up!" Kurt hissed, terrified. A floorboard creaked and they all jumped. The door to the last bedroom on the girl's corridor opened slowly and Rachel squealed. Everybody tensed, ready to defend themselves from this madman, and then-

"Mom?" Rachel whispered, dumbfounded. For Shelby Corcoran was indeed standing at the end of the corridor, framed by the small plate glass window. "What…?"

"Rachel," said Shelby, relief in her voice. "You're alright."

"What were you doing in there?" Finn demanded suspiciously. He made to go down the corridor and the rest of the group followed him. Shelby retreated to the doorway, blocking their way.

"I don't think you kids should go in there," she said slowly.

"Why the hell not?" Puck exclaimed. Shelby's gaze flickered to Brittany.

"Just trust me, I don't-"

But it was too late. They had surged past her and were now staring at the grisly sight within the bedroom in horrified disgust. Shelby moved towards them with her hands held up in a display of innocence.

"Rachel," she said imploringly, the green orbs of her eyes glittering with emotion. "This isn't what it looks like, I swear to you, I-"

"Mom," whispered Rachel brokenly. "What did you do?"

She stared from Shelby Corcoran, her mom, to the room's large French window and allowed a shocked sob to escape from her throat.

Hanging in the window, hands and feet bound with silk ropes, was the grisly form of Santana Lopez. She was stripped to her lacy red underwear, and as she was stretched out completely, everyone in the room could see the name 'Brittany' tattooed in flowing script on the inside of her right thigh. Her eyes were wide with terror, the pupils fixed and dilated. And worst of all, her chest was carved open. Rachel and Kurt, the only two in the group who weren't flunking Biology, realised at the same time that her heart had been carved out.

And there on her abdomen, daubed in her own blood, were eight ghastly, taunting words:

I always knew Santana was a heartless bitch.

"Mom," Rachel gasped again. "What did you do?"

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Oh dear. Santana fans, I am so, so, so sorry. Please don't lynch me.

As always, please review and tell me what pleased/horrified you about this chapter. Thanks for reading!