Oh my God. You guys have me cackling. Especially you, last guest! It's actually sort of painful to write it the way that I am (based off of the movie) because the Sheriff in the movie is just all kinds of relaxed and doesn't have an emotional attachment to the Author. They're also under the impression that the equivalent of Quinn's character is dead and they have been searching the woods, not in any of the houses. Most of the houses on the mountains in my story, are not used year round and they also suspect if she had been found... That they would have taken her to the hospital. But in all honesty, I agree, I feel like going to the residences, even those not currently in use to make sure Quinn didn't manage to make it to one of them and break in for warmth, food, etc. That however, would have rushed the plot and shortened the time she was missing which wouldn't have made sense for her healing legs, do you see my problem? Haha. I wish I could get my hands on the book (my Mother has a copy) but I'm sort of broke right now and haven't been driving anywhere but work.
Sawa255, I'm really glad to hear you like it, I'm sure your opinion of Rachel will only get stronger as the story progresses!
SilentReader, Sorry about the delay, hope you like this update!
Boringsiot, You have no idea. I actually love horror movies and gore. So this is extremely fun to me, perhaps I will write my own dark plot in the near future.
Gleek4ever, Hope you like this update. Unfortunately this is the second to last installment of the story... But I did try to make it as interesting and action packed as I could!
MsChloeMa, I'm really glad you like it! And I don't want them to die either so, hopefully, that will work out for both of us.
Jammy, I'm glad to hear you like the Quinntana flashbacks, I have tried to include as many of them as I can where they seem appropriate. And I was going to have her cut off Quinn's feet like in the book but that happened to Annie (who is actually an altered version of Rachel's character from the original plot) and Quinn's ankles were shattered with the mallet instead.
Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed and I'm sure you've had enough of my long windedness. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter... I really enjoyed writing it. ;)
Song lyrics are Otep's Crush (Admittedly I just discovered this song, I was going to use another by the artist... Called Special Pets but this one seemed so perfect. Haha.)
x
You were my very own
Oh, how I liked you!
You were my very own
Mine alone...
I made it so special for you
A bed of roses for you to bloom..
x
"Hey, I'm going to look into something now that I've caught up on my paperwork. You sure you don't need anything else?"
Santana removed the phone from between her ear and shoulder. "What is it, want to switch?" She asked, he chuckled.
"Tracking some old news article, found a quote that might lead somewhere."
Santana narrowed her eyes, "Never mind. That sounds even more boring than being on hold for... An hour and a half. What the actual fuck is this man doing?" She asked, thoroughly exasperated with the entire situation.
"Sorry you've got to deal with all that..." Sam said, making his way back over to his desk. He decided shortly after starting his search that he would look for Rachel's arrest record instead so that he would at least have a date to work with. From there it was easy enough to track down the article and confirm the quote.
He glanced toward Santana, the brunette was filling out a Sudoku puzzle rather aggressively. She was mumbling to herself, the phone still tucked under her ear.
"I'm going to head out Sheriff, you want to come along?" Sam asked, rising from his seat.
When he didn't get a response, he looked back over to the woman. She had stopped writing and was holding up her index finger toward him.
"Yes. Hello, Mr. Hudson." Santana started before waving her deputy off, the man chuckled and shrugged on his jacket.
"I was calling to see when you might be able to come down and collect your wife's affects. There was luggage and various other belongings found in the trunk of her vehicle. And you will also need to-" Santana paused, sucking in a deep breath before continuing. "We will need to have access to your wife's will so that we can decide what is to happen to her property in the event that she is-"
"Dead, if she's dead. I know that is what you want to say, you don't have to sugar coat it for me, ma'am."
Santana swallowed thickly and she wondered then, how he would feel if he knew that the reason she avoided saying it out loud wasn't for his sake at all.
"Uhm, yes sir. We are still conducting small searches and so far the K-9 Unit has had no luck in their larger sweeps."
"Why?"
"... Why what, Mr. Hudson?"
"Why are you still searching... If you think she's dead?"
Santana remained silent for a moment and contemplated on how best to answer. "I don't think she's dead but I won't lie to you... Many of my colleagues do."
Finn sighed, "How do you still have hope? I-I have forced myself to be content with the idea that I won't see her again. Anyway, I shouldn't burden you with my troubles... You're only doing your job and I'm sure her parents would appreciate to have her body for a funeral. I will contact them, I will not be able to leave..."
Santana balled her hand into a fist around her pen, "You won't be able to leave?" She asked, appalled by his callous disregard for Quinn, even now.
"It may seem insensitive to you... But my business will not run itself."
"I see, I will leave you to it then. Please have Mr. or Mrs. Fabray contact me as soon as possible." She bit out before ending the call without a goodbye.
xxx
Quinn stared listlessly at her once again bruised and swollen feet. She completely ignored the sound of a car door outside, knowing that it was only Rachel returning from her trip to town.
She only looked up when she heard the brunette calling her sow, which trotted loyally behind its owner.
Rachel beamed when she turned and caught sight of the blonde. "Hello, beautiful!" She cried, waving her hand toward her home.
Quinn rolled her eyes, her scowl still firmly in place as she flicked the other woman off.
Rachel's smile faltered but she quickly shook it off. "Such a kidder! Come on, Misery."
Quinn watched through tired eyes as the two disappeared into the barn.
xxx
The bell over the front door chimed loudly as Sam strode purposefully into the main store in town. "Hey Burt."
"Sam." The older man said with a small nod.
"Could I ask you a few questions?" Sam asked, making his way over to the large glass coolers to grab a soda.
"Sure thing."
"Do you have any new books in by Quinn Fabray?" He asked, closing the door once he had made his selection.
"Mhmm, we did have a batch. Sold out in three days, here... I'll ring you up."
Sam smiled and approached the counter, sitting his drink down to grab his wallet.
"You wouldn't know if Rachel Wilkes bought one of them, would you?"
Burt's eyebrows flew up at that, "Are you kidding? Every time that Lady writes a new book, she has me set aside the first hard and soft cover copies."
Sam nodded and pursed his lips, "Has she bought anything... Odd, lately?" He asked, his soda opening with a hiss of carbonation.
"Same old stuff for the most part... Although, come to think of it, there was something."
Sam sipped his drink quietly and waited for the other man to continue.
"She did pick up two packs of paper and a dusty old typewriter."
"Huh. Nothing odd about that, thanks Burt. I'll see you later."
"Miss Wilkes done something, Sam?"
The younger man paused by the door, "I don't know. I hope not." He said before exiting the shop, tugging out his phone as he did.
It only rang once or twice before being picked up, "Hello, Sheriff's office. Deputy Anderson speaking-"
Sam rolled his eyes, "Don't you ever check who's calling?" The blonde muttered, interrupting Blaine's autopilot opening.
"Uhm, no. I guess I don't."
"Well, you should try it sometime." Sam added with a laugh as he tugged open the door to his truck, drink tucked under his arm.
"Where's Santana? I need to talk to her."
"She's out getting an early lunch, she needed a break. Quinn's dick of a husband is refusing to come and get her things."
Sam shook his head, "Alright. I'll give her cell a try. When you see her, just make sure she knows that I am heading out of town for a bit."
"To where?"
"The Wilkes farm, apparently Rachel Wilkes is a big fan of Quinn's."
Blaine gasped, "Wait and you think she might have found her?"
"I don't know." Sam confessed, "But it's worth looking into... She is one of the only people who that still lives on that mountain year round."
"I'll let San know as soon as she gets in, let me know when you're leaving her place."
"Will do. Don't get Santana too excited with details until I talk to you, though."
"Yes, sir!" Blaine chirped before they ended the call.
Once he was off of the phone, Sam began his drive out of town and up the mountain roads. A half an hour later he was veering off of the asphalt and onto a worn path through what remained of the snow that lead to the Wilkes farm.
Quinn looked up suddenly as the loud roar of an engine approached. Her eyes widened when she saw Sam's slate gray pick up approaching.
She removed her arm from her sling and wheeled herself closer to the window as the truck drew closer.
The blonde had been so intently focused on the window that she hadn't heard Rachel approaching until it was too late.
The brunette was on her in seconds, once again jamming a needle into her arm before she could fight her off.
Quinn ignored the pinch in her arm and locked her fingers tightly around the other woman's neck. Rachel gasped, struggling to catch her breath as the blonde's fingers twitched tighter.
Unfortunately, within seconds Quinn's eyes were rolling back. Her fingers loosened slowly as the drug pumped through her veins.
Rachel quickly removed the hand from her throat before wheeling the other woman into the hallway.
Quinn's head lulled back, her fight leaving her as Sam's truck pulled down the last part of Rachel's 'driveway.'
"I will never understand you. I cook your meals, I tend to you all hours of the day and you continue to fight me." Rachel mumbled, pushing her hand against the wall that sat behind the steps that lead to her second floor.
The wall gave under the pressure of her palm before popping out, a hidden doorway appearing suddenly.
"When are we going to develop a sense of trust?" Rachel asked, undoing the leg supports to Quinn's chair before lowering them.
The brunette hoisted Quinn over her shoulder with a grunt, adrenaline boosting her strength as she carried the woman down the basement steps. She laid Quinn down on her back, lingering for a moment.
"If you want him to live, you'll keep quiet." She warned between heavy, panting breaths.
She quickly made her way up the steps, breaking down the wheelchair the rest of the way as Sam's door slammed shut outside.
Once she had the wheelchair tucked away, Rachel moved quickly to the front door. She pulled it open, bringing a hand to her chest when she noticed Sam so close. "Oh my."
The blonde faltered, his hand still raised to knock. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to startle you."
"I guess you can tell from my reaction that I am not used to getting visitors. Please, come in."
Sam smiled and stepped inside, instantly relieved by the shift of temperature.
"It has been ages! What can I do for you, Samuel?" Rachel asked as they made their way into the living room.
"It has. I was wondering if you knew anything about Quinn Fabray?" Sam asked as his eyes scanned the room, missing the way Rachel's eyes darkened slightly at the question.
"What would you like to know?"
"Anything you could tell me, that might help our investigation." Sam said, his eyebrows rising slightly as he looked back to the brunette.
"Well, she was born February first in Lima, Ohio. Thirty two years ago. The second daughter of Russell and Judy Fabray-"
"Well, that isn't exactly what I had in mind. You are aware that Miss Fabray has been missing for quite some time?"
"Yes, yes... I am aware. It is so heartbreaking. I am her number one fan. I have all of her books, every sentence she ever put down. I am so proud of my Quinn Fabray collection."
Sam's lips quirked into a nervous smile and he gave a small nod. He watched as Rachel lifted her hand to play with the gold cross necklace that lay over her turtle neck sweater.
"Aren't you Jewish?" He asked suddenly, without thinking.
The woman cocked her head to the side slightly before realization dawned on her and she released the necklace with a chuckle.
"I was or well, my Fathers were. I have studied several religions and have found that Christianity is the closest fit to my personal beliefs."
"Oh, alright. I was just wondering, the necklace looks good on you."
Rachel blushed slightly and waved the compliment off. "Now, now... A married man like you did not come all of the way up here to compliment me."
Sam chuckled and nodded, "Yes, you got me. Strictly a work visit. Mind if I take a look around?"
"Of course you can." Rachel said, following the man as he walked toward the dining room. "The news of the accident almost killed me, too. I prayed when I heard the news. I got down on my knees and begged for it not to be true."
Sam nodded but remained silent as he paused by Rachel's collection of Misery novels.
"You are probably going to think that I am crazy... But while I was praying," She paused by the shelf, her hand stroking the cover of the nearest book. "God told me to get ready."
Sam's brows furrowed and he reluctantly met the brunette's gaze.
"Get ready for what?"
"To be her replacement." Rachel said, without hesitation. "She gave so much happiness to so many people... There is a shortage of happiness these days."
Sam hummed in agreement, quickly moving into the hallway, Rachel right behind him.
"God told me that because I was her number one fan... It was my duty to continue her work."
She watched closely as the man peeked into her walk in closet. Sweat was beginning to build on the back of her neck, they were too close to the basement door. Although she knew she was being ridiculous, she felt that he would see the wall and know. Or maybe Quinn, hearing the footsteps, would make some sort of noise to alert him.
Rachel shook her head, smiling as he looked back toward her and closed the door.
"I bought a typewriter and paper to type on-" She paused as he stuck his head quickly into the kitchen. "I even turned my guest bedroom into my writing studio. Would you like to see it?" She asked, raising her voice slightly to catch his attention.
"Sure." He said, moving back down the hallway after her.
Quinn stirred downstairs, her eyes fluttering open as footsteps passed above.
Sam couldn't help but smile at the way Rachel beamed proudly in her makeshift studio.
"I know how she wrote... The kinds of words that she used, the wonderful stories she told. I spent the last four months trying to write like Quinn Fabray." She sighed heavily, her fingers tracing the keys of the typewriter. "I cannot seem to get it right. I try and try but it's just not the same."
Sam glanced down at his booted feet, "Well, maybe it just takes a while to get the hang of it."
Rachel chewed on her lip thoughtfully for a moment before reaching for the written pages of Misery's Return laid out on the desk.
"I could give you what I have written and you could let me know what you think?" She asked hopefully, holding them out toward the man.
He shook his head quickly, "No, thank you. I'm not much of a critic."
Rachel shrugged, "Well, it was worth a shot. How about you go take a look upstairs and I will brew you some coffee."
Sam nodded, relieved to be able to look around without her shadowing his every move.
"I'll be up in a moment, there is already some made. I just need to warm it up for you."
Sam made his way quickly up the steps, wanting to get a chance to look around before she joined him.
Quinn groaned, her eyes peeking open again at the sound of Sam making his way up the stairs. She tried to lift her arm but the limb only moved an inch or two before falling back to the floor.
The blonde whimpered, wanting to cry out and warn the man of what the lunatic giving him a tour was capable of.
Sam quickly cleared the two rooms upstairs. One was a full bathroom and the other was Rachel's bedroom.
He lingered a little longer in the latter but found nothing that would suggest Quinn being present in the brunette's home. He shook his head with a frown as his eyes did one last sweep.
He had been so sure that he was on to something, especially after he arrived and learned of Rachel's obsession.
A floorboard creaked behind him and Sam jumped slightly as he turned. "Oh my, I am sorry! I did not mean to startle you." Rachel said quickly, her cheeks darkening. "Here is your coffee."
"Thank you, Rachel. But I should really be going... I don't want to take up anymore of your time. Thank you for your cooperation." Sam said, moving passed her to make his way back down the steps.
"You did not have any of your coffee..." Rachel said, following closely behind him.
"I'm sure it is good but I really should be getting back to town. Still on the clock. It was nice seeing you again though, take care."
Rachel was about to respond when an odd sound, halfway between a whimper and a wail interrupted her.
"What was that?" Sam asked, leaning around the woman to try to get a better look down the hallway.
"Oh, it must have been my cat... She's a Siamese, they make such bizarre sounds, don't they?"
"Cat? I didn't see any cat..."
Rachel chewed on the inside of her cheek, "She's not fond of strangers, probably got herself stuck somewhere trying to hide. Silly thing."
"Oh, I see." Sam mumbled, his eyes still trained somewhere passed Rachel. "Would you like me to help you find her?"
"Oh, heavens no! Thank you for the offer but that would only scare her more."
"Alright... I'll leave you to it then. Good luck."
Rachel nodded, smiling politely as he walked out onto the porch before closing the door behind him.
Sam lingered in front of the door, scratching at his chin. He may not have been very familiar with cats but Brittany had one for years. He had only known the feline briefly but when he would visit his girlfriend's apartment it was always obvious that she had a cat. Even if the animal itself was not visible, its toys, bowls and litter boxes were.
He walked down the steps of the porch slowly, pausing as he stepped down from the last one.
A loud crash came from inside and his heart kick started in his chest.
Sam was torn between turning to go back up and check what the noise was and going to his truck for his gun. Deciding that the latter was the safer option, he moved quickly for his vehicle.
He had just unlocked his door when a piercing pain seared through his chest.
The man glanced down, his mouth releasing a breathy gasp as his lips parted. The long metal prongs of a pitchfork extended from his torso.
He grunted as he was whipped around on the tool before being tossed harshly to the ground.
Sam struggled to catch his breath, wheezing and gurgling as he turned toward the approaching brunette. She had already pierced one, maybe both of his lungs. If he didn't move quickly, she would surely kill him.
"Rachel, what are y-you doing?" He gasped out, holding his arm up as she stood over him.
Her eyes were cold and dark, in a way he had only seen in pictures. "I won't let you have her. She's mine." She bit out, raking the sharpened tips of the pitchfork against his forearm.
Sam cried out in pain, lowering his arm instinctively as his flesh and jacket were cut to shreds.
His world went black as Rachel hit him over the back of the skull with the long handle.
xxx
"Trouty isn't back yet?" Santana asked as she strode back into the warmth of their building. Blaine frowned, shaking his head as he glanced toward his watch.
"No, he isn't. He wanted me to let you know that he went out of town to check up on a lead he got."
"Lead? What lead? He didn't have specifics earlier, where did he go?"
"The Wilkes' farm."
"And he hasn't called?" Blaine shook his head again, his frown deepening.
"How long has he been gone, Anderson?"
"About an hour and a half... You don't think...?"
"If there was nothing to see, he would have been back by now. I'm going to call Brittany and make sure he isn't with her if he doesn't answer. If he's not, I'm going up there myself."
xxx
Quinn's eyes stared unblinkingly at the ceiling as hot tears tracked down her cheeks.
She was an idiot, Rachel had warned her and she hadn't listened. Now Sam was in danger and it was all her fault.
Truth be told, she hadn't heard much of what had happened. She wasn't even entirely sure it was over. There was only silence, heart breaking and deafening silence.
She knew for a fact that Sam was still here, having never heard the car door or engine. She had also heard talking but it was mostly too quiet to hear.
Quinn's eyes flicked toward the small window as a loud sound roared into existence. It was an engine of some sort but it did not belong to either of the two trucks on the property.
Suddenly, Quinn's eyes widened as it dawned on her. She hissed, struggling to sit up as her heart pounded in her ears.
Meanwhile, outside, Sam groaned and cracked his eyes open slowly. He was extremely disoriented and shocked to still be alive.
The metallic taste of blood had his stomach twisting painfully. His limbs were heavy and his head was pounding, especially with the loud noise that was growing ever closer.
He glanced in the direction of the sound and felt his heart clench with fear.
Rachel was quickly approaching on a large riding mower, pitchfork in hand. The brunette's jaw was set firmly and her eyes were cold, almost lifeless.
A harsh scream tore itself from Sam's punctured lungs and he coughed and sputtered on the last of it.
The man dug his fingers into the grass and tried to stand but found that he had been stabbed in the legs as well. He hissed in pain, rising onto steady feet before limping toward his truck. He tried the door but to his horror, found that it had already been relocked.
Sam slammed his palms against the glass before catching sight of Rachel in the reflection, the brunette's arm was raised and the pitchfork was aimed for him.
The man swore loudly, dropping to the ground before rolling underneath of his truck.
There was a soft thud just to the left of him as Rachel's weapon sunk into the ground.
"Oh, come now, Samuel. Don't you want to play?" She asked, raising her voice so that she could be heard over the engine.
"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" He man cried, seconds later he jumped. Nearly hitting his head on the undercarriage of his truck as his cell phone blared in his pocket.
He fumbled for the device, struggling to catch his breath as he did so.
His trembling fingers had just tugged the phone free when he cried out in pain and rolled off of his back and away from Rachel. The pitchfork had found his side but it had barely broken skin from the odd angle she had used to prod at him.
He abandoned his phone, instead rolling out from under the vehicle to try and make a run for the house.
Things seemed to slow suddenly as a shot rang out and Sam shook his head inwardly.
'She locked the truck, of course she grabbed the gun.'
He screamed, falling back to the ground as a bullet tore through his left thigh just above the knee.
Rachel clicked her tongue at the man and tucked the pistol back into the waistline of her pants once she was sure the safety was on. "Where do you think you're going, Samuel?"
Sam remained silent and instead put his energy into crawling but it was no use. He cried out a strangled sob, his lungs burning as the mower blades ran over his heels and the rest of his feet.
Leather, flesh and bone was obliterated as Rachel pushed passed before turning to come back around.
Sam couldn't hear it but his phone was ringing again, Santana's name flashing urgently on the screen.
His teeth chattered as his body slipped into shock and he buried his face in his arms. It was over. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing the pain or terror on his face.
He smiled slightly through the pain as he smelled the earth beneath him and thought of Brittany. At least she was safe, she and their baby.
"Please, don't make her see me this way..." He whispered weakly before the sharp blades of the mower met his arm and shoulder.
Quinn covered her face with her hands, sobbing at the loud, painful cries of a man she thought of as a friend.
She sucked in deep breath, quieting slightly as the screams ended and the engine sputtered to a stop.
She heard the front door being thrown open harshly before Rachel's heavy footsteps echoed over head.
"Do you see what you made me do?!" She shrieked. Quinn fought down the urge to gag when she noticed the blood splattered on the other woman's face.
"It's over, everything is ruined." Rachel said from the top of the steps. She ran an unsteady hand through her hair as she paced back and forth.
Quinn felt her heart drop into her stomach as the woman pulled Sam's pistol from her jeans. "You made me do this, Quinn. It's all your fault." The brunette mumbled, stepping down onto the first step.
The blonde's mind began to kick into survival mode as she heard the safety being clicked off. Her eyes glanced around, looking for something, anything that she could use to defend herself.
They paused momentarily on the metal container of liquid accelerant Rachel had used when she was forced to burn her manuscript.
"I won't let them take you from me..." Rachel mumbled, cocking the gun as she reached the middle of the steps.
Quinn looked back to the brunette, a plan forming quickly in her mind. Now all she needed was time.
"I don't want that either, Rachel."
Rachel paused, a small smile twitched to her lips and her dead eyes met Quinn's. "If I can't have you, no one will."
"No one will have me but you." Quinn promised. "But we have the opportunity to leave something behind, Rachel. Our legacy."
The brunette's eyes widened, "The book?"
Quinn nodded, watching the other woman closely. "Yes. Misery must live." She said slowly, smiling inwardly as Rachel gave a small nod of agreement.
"Yes. She must live. You and I will die, together. As soon as the book is complete."
Quinn gulped and hoped that it wasn't obvious enough for the brunette to notice. "Yes... Together." She said slowly, watching as Rachel disappeared back upstairs.
While Rachel moved around on the first floor, Quinn stretched out her arm to grab the accelerant. She wasn't sure if she would need it but it couldn't hurt to have.
Rachel appeared at the top of the steps with the blonde's wheelchair a few minutes later.
Quinn bit her bottom lip to muffle a whimper as Rachel lifted her from the floor. The brunette frowned as the other woman adjusted herself in her arms. "Don't move or I'm going to drop you." She warned, her voice sharp.
Quinn obeyed silently, releasing a small sigh of relief when she was set down gently in the chair.
"I'm going to clean up... You go work on your writing, Quinn."
The blonde nodded and made her way down the hallway to her room. She had contemplated trying the front door but was almost certain that Rachel still had the gun. Not to mention, she wouldn't be able to make it off of the porch in her chair.
Quinn wheeled herself closer to her desk and made the mistake of looking out of the window. She gagged and covered her mouth as she turned away.
"It's terrible, isn't it?" Rachel asked, pausing by the door. "His skull has my mower blades all bent up..."
Quinn stared at her incredulously as she wiped her hands off with a paper towel calmly, as if a body, the body of a deputy no less, wasn't practically sitting on the steps of her porch. The white of the towel was stained a reddish brown and the blonde could clearly see that she had already cleaned the blood splatter from her face.
Rachel sighed suddenly, "I'm going to go clean him up now. Get typing, Quinn." The brunette pulled the door shut before locking it quickly.
Quinn listened as the other woman made her way outside before making her way over, without looking, to close the curtains.
xxx
"Dammit Sam, what did you do?" Santana muttered, keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of an accident. In all honesty, she expected to find him along the side of the road. Grinning goofily by a broken down truck. Knowing the man the way that she did, he probably would have stubbornly tried to fix it himself and left his phone in the cab. It was no longer ringing so she guessed that it might have died, after the repeated attempts to reach him it seemed like a likely scenario.
She frowned as she pulled onto the long, unpaved drive that led to the Wilkes farm. To be honest, she had never liked Rachel Wilkes or Berry, as Sam had pointed out once. But she didn't believe that the woman was capable of the things that she had been accused of.
And even if she was, killing babies was completely different than trying something on a grown man.
Santana narrowed her eyes as the house came into view. She immediately noticed the disturbed ground in front of the home as well as the tire marks.
"Well, he was here..." She mused, putting her truck into park.
Stepping down from her vehicle, the brunette noted that the ground was on the softer side. All of the melting snow and rain had left it saturated. She walked forward toward the disturbed ground, brow furrowing when she noted a darker patch of grass.
"What the fuck?" She asked aloud, kneeling down to get a closer look. She swallowed thickly as she realized that the darker shade was blood, chips of bone and what appeared to be flesh and brain matter standing out against the darkened mess.
Santana glanced over her shoulder, back toward the tire tracks. She was confused to see that they did not suggest that Sam had left.
Given it was getting late in the afternoon and there were no signs of movement from the house, Santana decided that she would check out the property first.
She followed the tire tracks toward the barn and around the back, her hand twitching instinctively. It hovered over her holster as she peeked carefully around the edge of the building.
The tire tracks continued way passed the barn and into the woods.
She shook her head, keeping her eyes peeled as she stepped around the barn completely. It didn't make sense, she couldn't see any reason for her deputy to have gone back into the woods.
Santana's eyes narrowed when they noticed the parked mower, she approached it curiously.
It was still faintly warm despite sitting in the shade and appeared to have been hosed off recently.
The brunette set her jaw and turned back toward the house. She wanted answers and she wanted them now. Her hand rested firmly on her holster as she pushed her aviators back up on her nose.
Santana was walking up toward the porch when she noticed something that stole the breath from her lungs.
One of the curtains that had been drawn in the bay window looking over the front yard was pulled back. The blonde behind the glass was staring at her with an equal level of shock and had a hand pressed over her mouth. She appeared to be crying and Santana finally reclaimed the control of her body. She raced up the steps of the porch to the front door, frowning deeply when she found that it was locked.
She slammed her fist heavily against the door, wishing in that moment that she could tear it off of its hinges to get to the woman inside.
Digging her wallet out of her pocket quickly, the brunette dug out an old credit card to attempt one of her tricks. Luckily, Rachel had only locked the door knob since she had taken the bobby pin from Quinn.
Santana grinned, tears prickling at her eyes happily as she pushed the door open.
"Santana? Is that really you?" Quinn asked through the last barrier between the two of them.
"Yeah baby, it's me. Stand back, okay? I'll be in there in a second." Santana waited a beat before speaking again. "You out of the way?"
"Yes." Quinn said, her voice straining with emotion.
Santana set her jaw and brought her booted foot up quickly before landing a solid kick to the door. There was a loud thud followed by the sound of splintering wood as the door buckled inward.
As soon as the door was open, Santana rushed to the blonde's side.
She knelt down next to the chair, her eyes sweeping over the other woman's body.
"Are you okay?" She asked, brushing her thumbs across Quinn's flushed cheeks. The chair bound woman shook her head and leaned into the brunette's touch.
"What's wrong?"
"Sam..." Quinn choked out, closing her eyes as guilt twisted her stomach.
Santana's eyes widened and she leaned in closer. "What about him, Quinn? You saw him?"
Quinn nodded and turned away from her lover. "He's dead." She said quietly, her voice surprisingly even.
Santana remained silent a second, trying to absorb the information. "How...? I-I just saw him earlier, he was fine..." She said in disbelief, her heart breaking at the thought of having to tell Brittany.
"She killed him... With a mower."
Santana felt her mind go blank as everything came together suddenly, it was too much at once.
"Where is she?" She asked quietly, swallowing her nausea.
"I-I don't know... She moved the mower and then put his body in the truck and drove off. I didn't- I couldn't watch... I'm sorry."
Santana rose to her feet and squeezed the blonde's hand gently. "Shh... It's not your fault. Let's get you out of here, okay?" She said, her head slipping into an unreadable mask.
"She is not going anywhere."
Santana whipped her head around quickly, her eyes narrowing on the shorter brunette.
"You bitch!" She cried, rushing toward the other woman. Within seconds, Santana had Rachel off of her feet by her sweater and was slamming her into the door frame.
Rachel hissed through clenched teeth but smirked once the initial pain dissipated.
"You're under arrest for the murder of Sam Evans and the kidnapping of Quinn Fabray." She said, reaching toward where her handcuffs were fixed to the back of her belt.
"Arrest? You're going to arrest me?" The other brunette asked with amusement, her dark eyes flicking toward Quinn. "That nickname makes so much sense now, Quinn. I should have recognized the Sheriff's truck. How foolish of me."
"Nickname?" Santana asked, tightening her grip on the other woman at the way she was looking at the blonde.
"Oh, yes... Quinn got drunk one night at dinner and mistook me for you... She's quite skilled with that tongue of hers-"
Rachel's smug smile disappeared as Santana's fist landed a heavy blow to her jaw. She turned back to goad the enraged woman further when Santana landed another blow to the lower portion of her face.
Rachel licked the blood from her split lip as Santana breathed heavily and tried to control her temper.
"Santana, she isn't worth it..." Quinn said softly, wheeling a little closer to the two.
The Sheriff nodded after a moment, bringing her right hand back again for her handcuffs.
It all happened so quickly, Quinn tried to yell but the sound caught in her throat. She watched in horror as Rachel jabbed a needle into Santana's bicep. The taller brunette cried out in pain, releasing the woman and ripping the needle from her arm.
Santana managed to land two more hits before the drug took affect, her legs wobbled and she staggered.
"Stay there, Quinn. Or I will slit her throat." Rachel warned, supporting the taller woman as she began to slip into unconsciousness.
"Go to the desk, now." She ordered, bringing her collapsible hunting knife to Santana's throat. "Cuff your chair to it, I don't want you trying anything while I deal with her."
Quinn glared at her captor but did as she was told. She watched warily as Rachel placed the knife on the floor before lowering Santana to the chair she had brought in to read Misery's Return.
"What are you going to do to her?" Quinn asked softly, watching as Rachel took out Santana's second pair of handcuffs and cuffed the woman's hands behind her back. Rachel stood up, folding her blade back into its hilt.
"Nothing... Yet." She said, raising her eyes to meet the blonde's.
x
I see you
Opening your mouth
I see you
Absent of doubt
I see you
Will never forget
The night your life was mine to collect...
x