Revenge is a bitch. Especially when it comes from a dark, twisted, slightly evil Blaine who obsessively loves his Kurt.

Warning – twisted violence. But, Phil deserves it.

Chapter 28

Phil jumped when Kurt screamed. Why was he screaming headquarters? Phil surmised that he must have hit the kid in the head too many times. He pulled down his pants.

Kurt closed his eyes and rolled his head to the side. Maybe if this psycho thinks he has passed out, it will give Blaine time to find him.

"Come on sweetheart, up on your knees. You have work to do on behalf of Blaine."

Kurt lay still. Inside his head, he was screaming, "Please Blaine, please. Please Blaine, please. I'm at headquarters with some psycho named Jack. Please Blaine, please..."

Phil pulled Kurt to his knees and pressed his face against his groin. Kurt closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut. He was not going to do this. He couldn't. He just couldn't. Phil was petting his hair and talking.

"If you are well-behaved and do what you are told, this will be easy. If not, we can make it as hard and painful as you like."

He yanked Kurt's head back and took hold of his dick.

"Open up sweetheart."

Blaine slammed to a stop behind Kurt's car and ran up the steps. The locked door automatically opened. He ran into the foyer and stopped in front of his grandfather's portrait, listening. The entire house was silent.

Where were they?

He ran up the stairs to Phil's office. It was empty but as he turned, his eye caught sight of the broken cell phone on the floor.

Kurt's phone.

Blaine ran to the stairs leading to the third floor. As he climbed the stairs, he could hear Phil yelling.

"What the fuck, you little bitch!"

Kurt was sitting on his knees, looking at the palms of his hands in bewilderment. Phil was across the room scrambling to get up.

Then Kurt saw Blaine.

"Blaine!"

Kurt crawled across the floor towards him. His body hurt so bad but, something had given him a burst of energy and strength. He had managed to push Phil away from him with a surprising amount of force.

Blaine kneeled down and looked at Kurt's face, red and bruised. The sight sent the darkness spiraling and tightening into a storm but, Blaine didn't allow it to explode. He couldn't lose it yet. He had to get Kurt out of there first. He locked eyes with Kurt and placed his hand on his chest. Kurt could feel a mixture of relaxation and control flow through him. His pain didn't disappear but, it seemed to lessen just enough to allow him to breathe evenly.

"Can you drive yourself home?"

Kurt nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Blaine looked at him. He wasn't convinced but, he had to get Kurt out of there so he could take care of Phil.

Kurt reassured him. "I-I can. I can make it home."

"Listen to me carefully. I want you to drive home. Take a bath and stay in your room until I get there. Don't talk to anyone. Go straight home. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Blaine kissed him gently. "I love you. Now, go."

Blaine helped him stand up. Kurt turned and slowly started down the stairs. He didn't bother to look back at Phil.

Blaine fixed his gaze on Phil who had been cowering in the corner. He didn't move or speak until he knew Kurt was safely out of the house.

Well, fuck.

This was not the plan. This was not supposed to happen until tomorrow. Phil was supposed to die in his condo. To be found, hanging in his porno closet. More importantly, Kurt was not supposed to know.

But, here they were.

Blaine put his hands in the pockets of his shorts and started to walk slowly around the perimeter of the room. Phil snaked along the wall in an effort to keep distance between them. Blaine spoke quietly.

"Did you attack Tyler McDonald?"

Phil was about to give a smart ass response when he felt a strange sensation in his head. He suddenly wanted to tell the truth. Needed to tell the truth.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Phil felt the sensation lessen and he gained control over his mind again. "To fuck with you."

"Tyler's a nice kid. He didn't deserve that." Blaine paused before continuing. "The collar in your closet with my name engraved on it. What was that supposed to be for?"

Phil turned beet red. How did he know about that? Phil started to answer when suddenly, he couldn't breathe. His chest was getting tighter and tighter. He fell to his knees. Blaine knelt down in front of him and looked into his fear-stricken eyes and watched him struggle. His voice was quiet and calm.

"What exactly did you think you were going to do to me?"

Blaine released him and Phil fell back, gasping and coughing.

Blaine stood up and looked at him.

"You know what Phil? It really doesn't matter what you had planned. I told you that if you went near Kurt, I would kill you, so..."

Blaine had vowed that if he ever had to kill for Kurt, he would allow the darkness to completely take over.

He closed his eyes and relinquished control.

All control.

The darkness was at its strongest and hottest. It flooded Blaine's system and replaced the blood in his veins. He threw his head back and screamed as the heat crashed through him like lava. His eyes turned the deepest black with tiny hints of maroon.

Phil watched in complete horror. He scrambled to his feet and ran towards the stairs. He struggled to open a door that had no lock. And yet, it wouldn't open.

He spun around, looked at Blaine and started backing away.

Suddenly, his body was lifted from the floor and slammed into the wall. This happened several times before he was slammed to the floor at Blaine's feet.

Phil knew he was going to die painfully. He decided to try pleading for mercy.

"Bl-Blaine...p-p-please..." Blaine looked at Phil's mouth and suddenly, Phil couldn't speak. He kept opening his mouth but, couldn't get words to come out. His throat was burning.

Blaine looked Phil up and down and watched as Phil began rolling around on the floor from the sharp, hot pains attacking and ripping through his body. Phil felt as though he were being stabbed with a sharp, fire tipped knife, over and over and over again. The knife would cut first and then burn the wound with fire. His mouth was open to scream in agony but, no sound came out.

Blaine let him roll around on the floor in pain, as he calmly walked over to one of the campaign posters on the wall. He took a lighter out of his pocket and lit the poster on fire. He watched it slowly burn and spread to the next poster. He then walked to the next wall and lit another poster on fire, this one by the window. The fire jumped quickly, hitting the window curtains and spreading to the ceiling. Phil was writhing furiously on the floor, his face in sheer horror as he watched Blaine light another poster on the opposite wall and then light a box of papers in the corner.

In minutes, the entire room was engulfed in flames.

Blaine stood calmly in the middle of the room, arms folded across his chest. He stopped the pain soaring through Phil and released his voice. Phil's body was riddled with stab wounds. He slowly scrambled across the floor on his knees to the door, yanking at the doorknob but, it remained locked.

He started screaming. "Let me out of here! Let me out of here, you fucking freak! Let me..."

Blaine pulled Phil towards him until he was standing right in front of him. He wrapped the control around him and tightened it so he couldn't move. Phil was fear-stricken and speechless. Blaine looked into Phil's eyes, reached down and unzipped Phil's pants.

He leaned close to Phil's ear and whispered, "you always wanted me to, right?"

Phil screamed in terror."No! No! No! Please! No!"

Blaine took Phil's cock out of his pants and wrapped his hand firmly around it.

Phil's scream was blood-curdling as his dick burned with fire. He collapsed to the floor in excruciating pain. The room was filled with black smoke causing him to cough and struggle to breathe as he tried to scream away his agony. Blaine just stood there, arms folded, watching him. Phil looked up at him and helplessly reached towards him as his lungs filled with the black thickness. Blaine ran his eyes up and down his body, unleashing the pain, this time, hotter and sharper than before. Phil's screams were choked on the thick black smoke. The floor was starting to burn and the fire was inches from his body.

Blaine looked down at him.

"Goodbye Phil."

He turned and walked down the stairs.

It wasn't until he got downstairs that Blaine realized he had a problem.

The darkness didn't want to settle. He hadn't kept a touch point and now, it was out of control.

He started an internal battle, willing his body to grab hold of the darkness and force it back under his command but, it kept slipping from his grasp. It was moving so fast and so strong through his body, that he fell to the floor.

His mind was screaming, grasping at the force, trying desperately to catch it but, it slithered around, refusing to be contained.

Blaine screamed as it burned his insides.

He was in hell.

He needed his heaven.

But, he had sent Kurt home.

He would have to do this alone.

Blaine started fighting. He knew he only had minutes before the third floor would collapse on to the second. Plus, he had to get out before someone noticed the fire and called the fire department.

For the second time that day, he focused harder than ever before. He focused his thoughts on Kurt. He had to get out of there and go take care of Kurt. The darkness slammed through him, determined to stay free. Blaine struggled to focus. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. I gotta take care of Kurt. The darkness started to slow down, as if intrigued but Blaine's thoughts. As it slowed, Blaine forced it to settle. He lay on his back, sweating and breathing heavily as he felt it come to a complete rest.

Blaine scrambled up and ran to Phil's office to retrieve the broken pieces of Kurt's phone. On his way out, he paused for just a moment in front of the portrait and stared into the honey-amber eyes of his grandfather. He reached out and touched the frame.

It was hot.

Blaine walked out, the door automatically locking behind him.

It had stopped raining.

As he drove down the street towards Phil's condo, he heard the roof of his father's headquarters collapse.

X-X-X-X-X

Blaine parked around the corner from Phil's condo. He dumped everything out of his tennis bag and grabbed a pair of gloves he had stashed in the trunk for Sunday.

Once inside, he pulled the box of voting reports out of the closet. He looked at the safe. What was the combination? He thought for a moment and then tried his mother's birthday.

It opened.

Inside was $250,000. He put it all in the tennis bag. He put the bag and the box in the trunk of his car and headed for Lima.