A/N: This chapter is really short but its more of a continuation of last chapter than an entirely new one.

P.S. Blood and gore (GORE not vore) in this chapter. Don't like don't read.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and that's probably a good thing.

Blaine walked to Azimio Gordon's house, and silently climbed up a tree in the next yard waiting for Karfosky to walk out. He should be out in about 15 minutes tops, every Sunday night they smoked pot. And every week at six o'clock one of the two would go out to buy it, switching off every week. This week by Blaine's calculations would be Karofsky's. And sure enough, 5 minutes later he walked out the door. Blaine jumped out of the tree and walked far enough away that he'd have time to come up behind Karofsky without him noticing. And he did. "Hey, excuse me sir!" Blaine hollered a few feet behind Karofsky. He turned around surprised and stiffened seeing Blaine. "Oh, uh, hi Dave."

"Fag." He sneered as a greeting. Blaine played his part well, shrugging his bag closer to his side and shrunk in on himself.

"Look, my car blew a tire. I was wondering if I could get a ride from someone to the Hummel's garage so I could get a new one. And have someplace to stay for the night."

Karofsky looked him up and down warily. And deciding it was probably for the better that he actually take Blaine shrugged. "Whatever, hop in, just don't…touch me."

Blaine faked a genuine smile and got in. "Thanks man, I owe you one." Karofsky shrugged again and started driving. There was an awkward silence, Blaine was biding his time, fingering the curve of his knife in the front pocket of his bag. Slowly he pulled it out and shifted the bag on to the floor. Karofsky still didn't see the blade but drove with tense shoulders. When Blaine saw only a few cars around he turned the blade so it would face him, the handle of the knife feeling like the head of a gun, and his sleeve covering anything to tell him otherwise. He pressed it into Karofsky's side.

He looked down wide eyed. "Wha-What?"

"Drive. Take the next left, there's a field on the right. Park the car about 20 feet in." It was a dark tone, it didn't sound like Blaine anymore. It was low and dangerous, it sounded like a killer. Because it belonged to a killer.

Karofsky drove, he was a puppet. And he did as he was told. Once the car was in the field Karofsky turned to Blaine. "Dude, look I know I hurt Kurt but pl-"

"Shut up and get out of the car. Run I shoot. Scream I shoot. Basically get out and shut up. Understand?" He growled lowly, this was the fun part. The build up, the excitement. Adrenaline was humming through Blaine, this was where he belonged.

With a jerky nod he got out of the car and stood next to it. Blaine stalked out of the car all smooth lines and concentration, the duffle bag hanging menacingly in his free hand. He sat the bag in between them and hid the knife from Karofsky, he pulled out a long bundle of rope and then the knife letting Karofsky think the gun was still in the bag. "Hands behind your back." He obeyed.

Blaine strode behind him tying the rope tightly around his wrists. He walked out in front of him. "No talking. Just listening." Blaine was performing now, and his audience was captive. "Now David, you haven't been doing the right things. Especially when it comes to Kurt. You really should've known better than to mess with him, especially after you met me. How dare you continue to hurt him? He is perfect." He took a few steps forward, holding the knife in front of Karfosky's face. "And you are not, you lack strength." He made a small cut along his jaw line, pausing to watch the color drip down his skin and over the silver of his blade. His eyes grew darker he was focused, he didn't even hear him cry out in fear or pain. "You lack humanity." Another cut down the opposite side of Karofsky's face. "And most importantly," Blaine looked him in the eyes. "Courage."

Blaine drew the knife swiftly across Karofsky's throat, the blood splattering his clothes. He pushed Karofsky down in to the field and continued to cut him. He pressed the knife deep into his throat savoring the color of his blood, and the sound of his muscles snapping, his hyoid bone being cut cleanly in half. He pulled away happy with the destruction he saw.

He stood up with a frown. He was covered in Karofsky's blood, but that wasn't the problem, he had clothes and baby wipes, water and a towel to clean himself off, but something didn't feel right. There was something lacking, a certain emptiness to the body laying below him. And in a sudden moment, the thought struck.

He returned to his bag and grabbed Kurt's pen out of the pocket. He took the pen and wrote deeply into the wrist of Karofsky's left wrist, the letter "C". The black in stood out strikingly against the white of Karofsky's skin.

Blaine stepped away from the body and started to peel off his own clothes. After they were all off, save his boxers, he went into his bag pulling out a lighter, baby wipes, paper towels and several boxes of paper towels. Slowly he cleaned himself off, using the baby wipes for his skin and the water and paper towels for his hair. Grabbing the clothes and garbage he formed a small pile, about 20 feet away from Karofsky's body. He ran back to his bag and pulled out a lighter, he made the trip back to his clothing and lit it ablaze, the cleaning solutions from the baby wipes creating a fire.

He got dressed in the clothes from his bag, and got in Karofsky's car. He turned on the radio, singing along loudly to every pop song that played on the radio.

Once he had successfully made it to Karofsky's house he parked the car in the same spot it had been for Karofsky left. Whistling he got out of the car and started walking back to his in a much better mood than he'd been in when he arrived.

Blaine through his bag in the trunk and hopped into his car. Starting it up he pulled out his phone and called Kurt. "Hey babe." He smiled.

"Hi there B. What's up?" Kurt sounded more awake and Blaine could hear music in the background.

"Just got my car fixed I'll be up in an hour." He tilted his head, pressing the phone between his shoulder and ear.

Kurt smiled on the other end. "Okay B, I love you."

Blaine's heart swelled at the three little words, "I love you too Kurt."

After their goodbyes and nearly a thousand more "I love you"s later, Blaine was driving back to Kurt, back home.

And Azimio was walking out of the door of Karofsky's house, wondering where his friend is with the pot. He stopped when he saw the car parked as though it had never left.

Blaine glanced back in his rear view mirror whistling and smiling as Lima disappeared behind him.

A/N: There you go guys! I hope you liked this chapter, I'm not entirely in love with it, I had real trouble writing the murder. So gimme some feedback!

Much love,

Molly