A/N: Alright, so first off I wanted to thank everyone who wished me luck for my exam results tomorrow. I'm a nervous wreck, so the well-wishes really helped! The nerves are also the reason for this update- when I'm nervous, I write. Quickly and erratically, so I apologize if this update isn't up to scratch.

As usual, my reviewers have outdone themselves. Really, you guys amaze me. I have love and thanks this chapter for: cut-thestring, mia bella jacob, Bella1992, Nadia, LiveLoveLaughLife, Don'tTellMeICan't, DreamBigToFallHard, SawyersNumberOneFan, TheUltimateGleek123, Tayler, Alejandro, KairiNamineStar and AlexG3293. Keep up the great work!

This chapter, our title comes from Helter Skelter by the legends that are The Beatles.

DISCLAIMER: I think we all know by now, I don't own Glee. And yet I get a little sadder every time I write that.

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"What do you mean?" Shelby demanded. "What's the deal with the bathtub?"

Paralyzed by fear, none of the others had the heart to tell her. They were all staring, transfixed, at the large shape, which seemed to be taunting them from across the lawn. Much as they tried, none of them could shake the image of Quinn lying next to the tub from their minds. Quinn, lying still. Quinn dead. The nightmare image swam before each of them, Quinn's face blending with Brittany's in their mind's eye. Kurt released a small whimper, like a kitten when somebody treads on its paw. The remaining members of New Directions exchanged an abrupt glance and then took off as one across the lawn with Shelby bringing up the rear.

"Brit!" Matt panted, wincing slightly but not slowing down. "Brittany, are you out here?"

"Brittany, we know you're scared, but it's alright. Come out," Rachel pleaded. Her stomach plummeted as they neared the bathtub and she squeezed Finn's hand as tightly as she could. It was clear that the tub was not empty.

"Brit," whispered Matt again. He tried to rush to the tub, but Mercedes held him back. Tears glistened in her own dark brown eyes as she wrapped one arm around the football player and the other around the quivering Kurt. Nobody spoke.

The bathtub was indeed full. Water was spilling out over the sides onto the ground in a steady drip-drip-drip. And Brittany was lying in the tub.

In an act of true cruelty, she had been stripped, like Santana, and they could see that she had a tattoo to match that which they had seen on the Latina cheerleader earlier in the bedroom. Her face was relatively peaceful; even now, she wore her trademark dizzy smile. But on her stomach lay a hairdryer. Rachel, who had near perfect 20-20 vision, followed the power chord and found that it was attached to an extension cable which snaked through the open window next to the tub into the kitchen building.

"Don't!" she exclaimed as Puck made to attempt to resuscitate the prone blonde cheerleader. "She's been electrocuted, you could get shocked too!"

"Even Brit isn't dumb enough to just climb into this bath," Matt muttered, almost to himself. "She wouldn't. Someone forced her."

"Or drugged her," whispered Shelby. She pointed and they all saw the pink mark of a recent needle puncture in the tender crook of her elbow.

"Dude, this is crap!" Finn yelled furiously. "We have to find this bastard and make them pay."

"Mr Schue is out there on his own," Kurt moaned, and a shiver rippled through the group. "What do we do Finn?"

As always, the group turned to face the tall football-player-turned-male-lead. In times of trouble, it was inevitable that they would turn to him. Regardless of how much he protested, Finn Hudson was a leader. And the remnants of New Directions really needed a leader right now. Finn frowned for a moment as he thought, then his expression cleared.

"Shelby," he said in a strong voice that didn't entirely hide his internal uncertainties. "You have your car, right?"

Their former rival nodded.

"Well, you take Rachel and-"

"Finn, I'm not leaving you!" Rachel exclaimed, and there was a dangerous note to her voice which told him that arguing would be foolish.

"Well then, I'm not leaving either," said Shelby firmly. "I have to protect my daughter."

Finn made an unhappy noise, but said nothing further. He seemed to be at a loss now, perhaps terrified for Rachel. If she was safe, he wouldn't care what happened to him. Despairingly, he glanced around to Puck for help. The shaven-headed boy nodded sharply.

"Aretha, you're goin' to take Rutherford and Hummel and get the hell out of here in that car," he told Mercedes.

"What?" Matt said angrily. "No, you need me here."

"Matthew," said Rachel softly. "Look at you. You can barely walk. Your safety is at the greatest risk here."

"We can't just leave you," Kurt started to say, but Finn stopped him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You have to," he told the smaller boy. "Go and find the nearest police station and tell them what's going on. And then call our parents."

"But Finn, you could d-"

"I know," he said firmly. "But my mom, she's strong. Stronger than your dad. He can't lose you Kurt, and I couldn't live with myself if I let my brother die when he could be safe."

Perhaps it was the word 'brother' which did it. Kurt looked as though he might burst into tears at any moment, but he bobbed his head in agreement and hugged Finn briefly. Then he turned to Shelby, who tossed him her keys. He caught them deftly and stared down at them.

"Alright," he choked out. "We'll go. But what about you guys? Mr Schue is still out there, but it's too dangerous for you to go cavorting around in the woods. It's too dark."

"I'm goin' to go," Puck said. Everyone stared at him.

"Dude, no, you can't," said Finn, a pleading note in his voice.

"Noah-"

"I'm going," he repeated over their protests. "Never leave a man behind, right? Finn, you keep Berry and her mom safe. Hummel, time to man up and take control. Get these two to safety."

"But Puck," Matt argued. "You know how horror movies go. If you go off on your own, you-"

"I know," he said darkly. "But I have to. I couldn't keep Quinn safe, so the least I can do is keep the rest of you alive. Quinn would kill me if I got you all murdered."

"And what would she do if you got yourself murdered?" Kurt challenged. Puck's face split into a grin.

"Knowing her, she'd probably pray to God to bring me back to life just so that she could kill me herself for bein' so stupid."

And with this last, Puck turned on his heel and disappeared into the forest, withdrawing a slim torch from his pocket to illuminate his path. Shock reverberated through the rest of the group.

"Finn," Rachel pleaded. "We can't just let him go."

"You heard him," said the tall boy. "It's what he wants. Now you three," he added, turning to Matt, Mercedes and Kurt. "Go."

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Puck stalked swiftly through the undergrowth. Though he would never admit it to the others, he was scared shitless. He thought of himself as a badass, as though nunchucks and a ridiculous haircut made him invincible. But what he'd seen in this place had taken all that away. His friends- yes, he did think of them as his friends now, these people he had spent years teasing and taunting and tossing in dumpsters- were in grave danger. Some of them were already gone, taken from earth so cruelly and maliciously that he had to wonder if there was any higher power watching over them at all.

Take Brittany, for instance. Sure, the girl was as dumb as a bag of hammers, but she was also a complete and utter sweetheart. Stupidity and naivety were the only real things she ever did wrong. She befriended kids like Becky Jackson, who would have been completely marginalised otherwise, and she was always willing to help anyone who asked her. It wasn't fair that she was dead because some sicko… Hell, he didn't even know why the psycho was doing this.

And Tina and Artie. Neither of them had a bad bone in their bodies. Tina dressed in those dark, scary clothes but beyond them Puck knew she was one of the happiest, sunniest people in the world. Her laugh was infectious, likewise her smile. He remembered when Shelby had taken Beth, when he was at his very lowest, that Tina could still make him smile. And her boyfriend, who Puck had taunted for so long because of his disability. He knew now that Artie had been stronger than him or any of his fellow football goons. He overcame adversity every day and still found a way to be smart and witty and use that chair like a BMX bike. Dead. Gone. Cold.

"This is shit!" he screamed to the night sky. "This is fuckin' shit!"

He wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up in a ball and cry until he had no tears left in him. He wanted to punch something so hard that it would never be the same again. Mostly, he just wanted Quinn.

She's gone, he told himself ruthlessly. She's gone, and she wouldn't want you pining over her. She'd want you to get on with what you said you'd do.

He had to get to Mr Schue. He had to bring him back safe. He had to.

It must have taken him twenty minutes to find any sort of pathway in the forest. It was so much darker now, and he was in the densest part, where the trees on either side of him almost met above his head. The thin beam of light from his torch was pretty much useless.

When he did find his way onto a dirt trail, he found that he could speed up at least a little. When he spotted the blood on the road, he blanched in spite of himself, remembering how Kurt and Brittany had found the grisly remains of Artie scattered like litter along the track.

"Mr Schue," he called. "Mr Schue, can you hear me? It's Puck. Mr Schue?"

Part of him knew that what he was doing was extremely stupid. He used to have horror movie nights every weekend with Finn, Matt and Mike, before the babygate drama tore him and Finn apart. He knew the formula for death-by-crazy. Going off on your own? Check. Not grabbing any form of weapon? Check. Calling out loud for the crazy bastard to hear? Check. He sped up.

The road began to slope down gently. In the daytime, it probably wouldn't have even been noticeable, but now Puck's senses were heightened with a mixture of adrenaline and darkness. His feet were searching frantically for the ground as he couldn't see well, so he felt it when he began to trot down the small, gradual hill. Sure enough, he soon found himself in a sort of hollow. He slid between the trees surrounding the clearing as best he could and then drew to a stop with a strange mixture of relief and horror.

Mr Schue was in the clearing. He was wearing only a thin t-shirt and kneeling next to something which was shrouded in his hiking jacket. Puck realised with a pang that it was Miss P's head and shoulders. His faculty advisor and Spanish teacher was leaning protectively over her and Puck could see grimy tear tracks on his face as his shoulders dipped and sagged. The man looked like he felt when he managed to find his way to Quinn and hold her one last time.

He shouldn't be here. Berry, she was the sensitive one. Or Hummel. Heck, even Finn would have been better. He was the one who had experience with handling a grieving person. His mom was a mess for years after his dad died. What good was Puck? Everyone knew he was a deadbeat, just like his father. He didn't have a compassionate bone in his body.

"I never should have called you a 'Lima Loser'," Quinn's voice said in his head. "You're not. You're special and romantic."

He almost smiled, remembering how proud he felt when she said that. And he guessed she was kind of right. Maybe he had been a Lima Loser once, but glee had changed that. Glee and Quinn and… well, and Mr Schue.

"Mr Schue," he called out as he strode into view. "Mr Schue, it's me, Puck. It's time to go."

The teacher looked up, a hopeless expression on his handsome features.

"I'm sorry Puck, I can't do that," he said, as though the teen had just asked for an extension on a Spanish assignment he'd already had extra time to hand in. "I have to stay here. With Emma."

"Mr Schue, if you do that-"

"I could die. Yeah, I know. But I have to keep her safe."

"Mr Schue." Puck swallowed, bracing himself. "She's dead."

"I know that. But I have to keep her body safe. Whoever did this could come back, they could do… they could do anything to her. I can't allow that."

"Then we'll hide her," suggested Puck. "We'll keep her safe, out of sight, and then when all this is over we can come back and get her. You'll be keeping her safe."

"You promise?" Will asked, and he sounded like a child who questions their parents' decisions. Puck bent down and looked him in the eye.

"I promise," he told his teacher, and as one they lifted the cold, bloodied form and began to move Emma Pillsbury's remains to where they would be safe from further desecration and humiliation.

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"This is a hot damn mess," Mercedes muttered as she and Kurt helped Matt to the car. It seemed to have become her personal mantra in the past few minutes since they had left the others. She said it quietly, matter-of-factly, and the other two were so defeated by the loss of Brittany that they didn't argue with her once.

"She probably parked where the bus dropped us off," Matt said through gritted teeth, still resolutely ploughing on with his crude crutch. "That's not much further."

"I think there was a police station ten or twelve miles away," added Kurt. "I remember seeing it across the road from a darling little boutique I thought I'd like to visit. We can get there quickly if we drive fast. Everything will be fine."

Nobody commented on the fact that this last statement sounded more like a question.

They hurried on briskly, trying to shake the feeling of being watched. They attributed it to the fact that they were nervous, that their adrenaline was racing through their veins at the idea of getting away from this godforsaken place.

When they finally jogged down the last stretch of the dirt track, Kurt gave a little yelp of happiness and broke into a run. There, right in front of them, was Shelby's shiny blue Prius.

"We're getting out of here," he told the others. "We're getting out of here and we're going to end this nightmare for everyone."

Matt laughed excitedly and pressed a kiss to Mercedes' smiling mouth. Tears of shocked joy began to spill down the diva's face and she clutched him so tight she thought she might never let go.

"Get in," Kurt tossed over his shoulder as he slipped into the driver's seat. Mercedes and Matt clattered into the backseats and fastened their belts. After all that had happened, the last thing they needed was to be killed in a car crash because they neglected their safety. Kurt jammed the key in the ignition and turned it. There was an angry grating sound and the car cut out. He tried again and the same thing happened. And again. And again.

"The car won't start," he muttered wildly. "The car won't start."

He peered under the steering column and, sure enough, the wires had all been cut. The car was useless.

"Dammit!" he shrieked. "Damn it to hell!"

He jumped out of the car and ran around it. All the tires had been slashed. Whoever this psycho was, they were good.

"Kurt?" Mercedes said in a small voice as she and Matt joined him outside the car once more. "Kurt, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong? What isn't wrong? 'Cedes, we can't drive this car."

"What?"

"He's right," Matt said in a hollow voice. "It's ruined beyond repair."

"You bastard!" Kurt howled into the night. "You cowardly bastard! Why are you doing this? Just come out and face us instead of slinking around like a snake. Come out, you crazy bastard!"

"You rang?"

Kurt froze. From the dark forest a lone figure emerged, shrouded in black from head to foot. It strode confidently towards them, graceful and cat-like. The silver hilt of a long, lethal-looking blade glinted in the moonlight. Behind him, Kurt heard Mercedes sob.

"Who are you?" he shouted, a challenge in his voice. The figure laughed mirthlessly.

"Now, now, Kurt, that's no fun," it said in a sing-song voice. "Can't you guess?"

"Why are you doing all of this?" Matt challenged. "Why?"

"Why not?" the figure shrugged nonchalantly. "I must say, this is a nice surprise. Three at once. What fun."

Kurt knew then that they were just sitting ducks. They had no weapons. Matt and Mercedes stood little chance of getting away. Matt was limping badly and Mercedes wasn't fit enough. If he didn't do something, they stood no chance.

"Go," he said over his shoulder to the pair.

"Kurt, what-"

"Go!"

"Aw, isn't that sweet? Little Kurt is playing the hero," the shrouded form jeered. "No matter. I'll get you all anyway."

"Why don't you take off that mask and face us like a real human being?" Kurt asked angrily. The figure laughed again.

"And ruin the big finale? I think not. I've been waiting for you for a while Kurt, you were one of the ones I was most looking forward to. I had planned something a little more grandiose, but spur of the moment works just as well."

"Matt, take Mercedes and go. Now!" Kurt screamed at the other boy, and then he rushed at the figure, attempting to tackle as Finn had shown him during his brief stint as a member of the McKinley High football team. The figure clearly hadn't been expecting his advance; he managed to throw it off balance for a moment. But it was strong, and it quickly overpowered him. It pinned his hands and pushed him against the hood of the car. It's eyes danced madly through the slits in the mask it was wearing.

"Quite the last performance, Kurt Hummel," it hissed. Then it lifted the knife in its hand and slashed. The small boy slid down the car and to the ground. The figure stood over him and grinned widely.

"Hey!" Matt yelled, antagonising the anonymous attacker. "Over here!"

The figure turned and he put all his force into swinging the branch he was using as a crutch, grateful that he had decided to join the baseball team as well as football and basketball. The figure crumpled to the ground and lay still.

"Come on," he urged Mercedes. "We have to go back and find the others. That won't keep the bastard down for long."

"Kurt!" she moaned, fighting his hands. "No Matt, we have to bring Kurt with us."

"'Cedes," he said gently. "He's gone. There's nothing we can do for him."

"NO!" she howled, scratching at his arms and thrashing wildly. "No! Kurt, Kurt honey… Kurt!"

"We have to go!"

"Never leave a man behind, that's what Puck said, please, we have to-"

"We'll come back for his bod- for him when we can, I promise. Mercedes, I promise."

This last was spoken in such an intense, genuine tone that Mercedes stopped fighting and nodded. She stared tearfully at Kurt lying in a heap on the ground, his eyes half-closed, and then turned away. Matt yanked her along by the hand and into the camouflage of the forest, out of sight.

A couple of minutes later, the black-clothed figure opened its eyes and sat up. A hand reached up to massage the lump rising on its temple just above its ear and it growled furiously. With one last, satisfied glance at the crumpled form of Kurt Hummel, it rose fluidly to its feet and began to stalk back up the trail towards the lodge, singing softly under its breath.

"Well do you, don't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast, but don't let me break you
Tell me, tell me, tell me your answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Look out!
helter skelter, helter skelter, helter skelter".

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I feel so bad right now, I want the killer to kill me. I am a bad, bad person. Ugh.

Please review, but try not to be too horrible. Trust me, I feel bad enough already.

And again, exam results tomorrow so expect a couple of days break before I update again. Fingers crossed everything will go well!