American Hudmel Story

Home Invasion


"Well, I suppose that the clean freak doesn't want to come with us."

Emma looked up from wiping the table. "No thank you. I still have to clean the bathroom and the bedrooms – the germs in those rooms are just crawling."

Sandy and Brenda both laughed just as Shannon walked into the room; she caught what was going on and frowned. "Ah, leave her alone, guys. I mean, that bathroom is probably disgusting anyway, what with how many of us use it."

Brenda sighed. "Fine. Well, while you two losers stay here, Sandy and I are going to a concert." Both of them turned around and left without another word, leaving the two women on their own.

"Remind me why we agreed to let those two live here," Emma muttered, and Shannon shrugged slightly.

That was when there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," Shannon decided before Emma could even look up; she knew that Emma wouldn't want to touch the door handle.


When she opened the door, she was expecting it to be the other two teachers - only to find that it was a man; he was dressed in a jumper and trousers, and appeared to have something red running down the side of his face. "Excuse me," He started to say, reaching up to touch his eyebrow. It was only then that Shannon realised he was bleeding. "I don't want to bother you, but I'm hurt and needing some help."

Shannon didn't really want to let him in – but then again, what if he was badly injured? And what kind of person would she be if she just let him bleed to death? So she let him in, directing him to the couch in the front room to sit down on.


"This may sting a little," She said, giving Emma a small smile when the red-haired woman brought the first aid kit to her. She reached in to get the equipment she needed, and then dabbed at his apparently injured eye. "Just be glad that I know first aid."

Emma, who had been watching Shannon help the man, stood up suddenly, noticing something odd about the situation. She took a step closer to get a better look. "You know, I can see blood but I don't see a wound..."

Suddenly, the man had brought a nearby ashtray crashing onto Emma's head, knocking her unconscious. Shannon jumped up from where she was sitting, ready to fight if necessary. "Don't move!" The man growled at her, dropping his ashtray. "You'll only make it worse!"

Shannon was not a gym teacher for nothing, so of course she ignored his warning and tried to run around the couch to the open door. The man quickly grabbed a lamp off of the coffee table and swung it at her, hitting her in the face and knocking her out too.

The man, Cooter Menkins, smiled to himself. This was going to be easier than he thought.


When Emma opened her eyes, it was to water dripping through the ceiling and onto her nose. Her eyelashes fluttered as she sat up, only to find that she was now looking at the assailant in front of her.

"About time you woke up," He growled. "Now, take off your clothes."

Emma's eyes widened. "P-Please don't hurt me..." She whispered, her voice too weak to speak loudly.

Cooter growled. "Take your clothes off, now." He tossed a bundle of clothes at her. "Put these on afterwards."

Emma sniffled as she unbuttoned her blouse and shouldered it off; she picked up one of the pieces of clothing thrown at her, and found that she was looking at a stereotypical teacher's outfit. As she changed her comfortable clothes for strict and tight ones, she managed to whimper out, "P-please. I-I'm a virgin."

"Just strip."

When she was done, he seemed to relax a little; however, he pulled a knife out of his pocket all the same. "Now, lie on your stomach on the couch."

Emma did so, shutting her eyes tightly. From above her, Cooter had grabbed her discarded clothes, and reached for her arms and legs; he hog-tied her, ignoring her whimpers as he touched her skin, before standing back to look at her. Emma's breathing had become harsh and heavy, her big brown eyes staring at the man pleadingly. "I don't know what you want," She said, tears starting to roll down her face. She knew that the water that had been dripping onto her face was from the upstairs bathroom, and that the man had probably drowned Shannon in the tub. She knew that he intended to kill her at some point – but it didn't stop her from begging. "We have money upstairs, if that's what you want. I-I won't tell anyone what happened..."

Cooter just smirked and left the room. Emma blinked when she realised he'd gone, looking around to see if he was still there. Maybe he's listened to me...maybe he's going to let me go...

She didn't hear him creep up behind her. She didn't see that he was behind her.

That was when he stabbed his pocket knife into her exposed back.



"So, you're Kurt's step-brother."

Finn nodded, looking up from his homework. He'd decided to do it outside, in case Rachel came and wanted to talk to him. Rachel hadn’t made an appearance yet – but this other guy had…whoever he was. "Yeah...and who are you?"

Blaine smiled easily. "A friend of Kurt's. Blaine Anderson." They shook hands. "How's he been recently? I haven't seen him much."

Finn shrugged. "Okay, I guess. A bit withdrawn, but that's it." He paused. "Do you want me to get him for you?"

Before the shorter teen could answer, Finn's phone went off. He looked at the number and went white. "Aren't you going to pick it up?" Blaine asked just as Finn pressed 'ignore'.

"Nah. Prank call...what were we saying?"

Blaine opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by the phone again. "Maybe you should pick up," Blaine told him, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"No," Finn shook his head. "It's just a prank caller...or Kurt asking me to go to the kitchen and get him some-" The phone rang again. "How about I tell him you were here?"

Blaine nodded. "That would be great. I'll just go."

Finn didn't even notice that Blaine just walked around to the back of the house because his phone rang for a fourth time. Getting annoyed, he accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear. "For God's sake-"

"Finn, I'm pregnant."

Beat. Bu-bum. Skip.

He slammed the phone down on the floor, breaking the screen, and shouldered his schoolbag before walking away.


When Sebastian had asked to meet him at a nearby coffee barista, Kurt had been nervous. Was he going to kick the crap out of Kurt for what Blaine had done? Had he told anyone? Or did he want to apologise for his behaviour beforehand?

As Kurt sat down the other boy, he blinked. Sebastian was wearing his Dalton uniform, as always, and a hat tugged down to his ears, hiding his hair. He also had a large cloth bandage of some sort on his cheek, obviously covering the scratches he'd gained. "Umm..."

"I can't sleep," Sebastian blurted out, voice rough and gravelly. "I can't get the image of that...that thing out of my head." Sebastian looked up, and Kurt saw that his eyes had purple rings around them. "What was it?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "It was...well, it was Blaine. My friend-"

"No!" Sebastian snapped, tears pooling in his eyes. "No it wasn't! That thing was not human, and you know it."

Kurt didn't say anything.

"I'm not sleeping," He continued brokenly, staring into space. "My's turning white from fear." His eyes focused on Kurt. "That happens, you know?" At this point, he tugged the cap further down his head.

Kurt cleared his throat. "What did you tell your parents?"

"I told them I got mugged; much more believable than a...a monster in a basement attacking me. I had to fill out a police report and everything."

Kurt couldn't look at the other teenager without feeling guilty, so instead focused on his coffee. "How deep are those cuts?"

"Deep," Sebastian muttered. "Apparently I'm lucky I didn't bleed to death...God, I just can't help but think of that mouth-"

"It was a mask," Kurt interrupted dryly, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or Sebastian. "He just wanted to scare you."

Sebastian snorted slightly, sounding like himself for a moment. "Yeah, well. He succeeded." He paused, peering up at Kurt through tired eyes. "Do you believe in the Devil?"

Kurt was rather taken aback by this. "I...No. I don't believe in God, so I guess I don't really believe in the Devil either..." Although after that, who knows? He thought to himself secretly.

"I do," Sebastian told him, starting to shake slightly. "I've looked into his eyes, Hummel."

Kurt couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him at these words – he had the sickening feeling that he had too.


The house was silent. All of the Hudson-Hummel family were asleep, some more restfully than others; Finn was only half-asleep, unable to stop thinking about the phone calls, and the person who'd been making them. Kurt, meanwhile, was plagued by the mystery of Blaine and what he had done. What the pale teenager didn't know, though, was that Blaine was standing at the foot of his bed that night, watching Kurt as he tossed and turned in his sleep.

This peaceful picture was shattered a second later when the house alarm went off, waking everyone up.

Burt shot upwards, heart speeding up as he tried to grasp what was going on. "Carole, go check on the boys!" He bolted out of bed, leaving his wife looking tired and confused.

By the time Burt had gotten down the stairs, he was fully awake and looking around the house for what could have caused the alarm to go off. He quickly went to turn off the house alarm, trying to slow down his breathing so he didn't have a heart attack (the one he’d had months before had been enough).

And then he saw that the front door was open. Burt shut it quickly before turning to look around the foyer quickly, not wanting to have his back turned for too long.

Carole appeared moments later, stopping when she saw he was tensed and worried. "Did someone break in?" She asked, looking around.

"Go back upstairs," Burt muttered, and he only just registered that she said she was going to go and call the police.

There was someone in his house – that meant he had to protect his family. He started to walk towards the kitchen, looking around with every step he took.

And then he heard it; the creak of a door and giggling.

He picked up the pace of his walking, heading for the basement stairs. He tried not to let the stairs creak as he walked down into the basement, feeling utterly defenceless. He stopped halfway down, and looked around-

It was Becky, who was sat on the floor with a red ball in her hand and giggling happily. Burt sighed, the tension in his shoulders visibly disappearing. "Becky, go home."

Becky looked up at him, her smile disappearing slightly. She rolled the ball once last time into the darkness before she stood up and let Burt walk her out of the nearby basement door. While she was leaving, Burt peered around the dark attic, wondering who the hell she'd been playing with. Of course, nobody visible was there.

Shaking his head as he followed after the girl, he didn't notice the red ball she'd been playing with being rolled back.


"The police are on their way-"

"Tell them to go back," Burt grumbled, slumping onto the bed. "It was just Becky. I don't even know how the little freak got in-"

"Don't call her that!" Carole snapped, her head turning to glare at him. He stared back at her, shocked by her reaction. "'s not her fault!"

It was only then that Burt noticed she was shaking. "Carole...are you alright?"

Carole looked down at the duvet, trying not to let him see that she was very upset. "I-I know it sounds stupid...but I haven't thrown up. Not once. I threw up for two months straight when I was pregnant with Finn." She looked up, her skin very pale. "I feel like there's something wrong with this baby, Burt."

Burt sighed, putting an arm around his wife. "It's not stupid," He muttered. "Honestly. I mean, most Moms get worried, don't they? It's only natural." He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I think maybe you need to sleep. You must be feeling exhausted..."

Carole nodded, not bothering to tell him that she didn't feel any better at all by his reassurances.


The kitchen in the Sylvester household was alive, with jazz music playing in the background as the tall woman started making cupcakes of some sort.

"How come I don't look like these girls?" Becky asked, looking up and pointing at her magazine.

"Because you don't," Sue replied simply, turning around with her bowl of cupcake mix. "It's just the way you are." When Becky just pouted, Sue continued, "You have some other gifts – I mean, only a few, and they're pretty useless most of the time."

Becky folded her arms. "Like what?"

"How the hell am I meant to know?" Sue snapped. "Now, could you get me that ipecac syrup from the cupboard? The brown jar."

Becky huffed, standing up from her chair and grabbing the bottle for the woman. She passed it to Sue, confused by what its purpose was. "Does it make the cupcakes taste good?"

Sue opened the ipecac, hesitating in her answer. "No. You can't actually taste it." Sue turned the bottle upside down, pouring all of it into the cupcake mixture. "No, it causes violent stomach upset, and makes people barf. Sometimes internal bleeding..." Sue mixed it in, picking up the bowel and walking around to let Becky look in the bowl. "Okay..." She smiled at the girl keenly. "Let’s see how much spit you can muster up."


Honestly, Finn was a wreck. All day at school he'd just thought about the mess he'd created; with Quinn, with Rachel...with everything. It got even worse when he got flashes of the times he and Quinn had had sex – it didn't arouse him in the slightest, instead making him feel sick to his stomach.

That was why he'd shot out of school when the bell had rung, driven his car out to the nearby coffee shop that no one went to, and parked in the space furthest away from the shop itself. Once the engine had been turned off, and he was sure no one had followed him, Finn had started to cry. He couldn't help it – his ex-girlfriend was pregnant with his child. To add on top of that, he had a new girlfriend who he cared about deeply, and didn't want to leave her or upset her.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, he hid his face in his hands like a child, chest shaking with the sobs he was trying to keep back. Flashbacks started to appear, and he rubbed at his eyes angrily, willing them to leave him alone.

Then there was a knock at the window.

Finn jumped, looking around. He found himself face to face with another teenage boy with a Mohawk; the teenager mouthed a "let me in" at Finn, grinning at him. Finn shrunk against his seat, having no intentions whatsoever to let this dude in his car. "Dude!" The guy yelled. "Come on! I want to help you!"

"Piss off!" Finn yelled.

"Come on!" The guy stood back, clearly waiting for Finn to open the door. "I've been watching you cry like a sissy for the past five minutes! I can help!"

Finn furrowed his eyebrows; he was stupid, but not that stupid. "Dude, piss off!" He repeated.

The Mohawk boy folded his arms and smirked. "You've got a girl pregnant, haven't you?" Finn froze, shocked by what the other teenager had said. "Thought so. Look, I know you! You go to Dalton with me, honest!"

Finn sighed, giving in, and opened the car door. "Fine. I don't feel good about this, though..."

"Dude, relax." It was only when the other boy faced him that Finn got a proper look at his face; to his disgust, the left side of his face was covered in burns and grazes. "So; I'm Puck. Noah Puckerman, actually, but if you call me Noah then I'll beat you up. You call me Puck, you got that?"

Finn nodded quickly. "Yeah. I'm Finn." He shuffled in his seat, sort of feeling awkward. "So, how come you're not wearing the uniform?"

"I skipped today," Puck said casually. "Couldn't stand the thought of people staring at me like some sort of loser." His hands turned into fists as he started to turn angry. "It's 'cause of the frickin' burns. It's no one's business, you know?"

"How did you know?" Finn asked suddenly, feeling curious. "About...the girl thing?"

Puck smirked. "I've been in that situation before – not good, but there you go." He shifted closer to Finn, invading his personal space. "What happened? You had a one night stand and now she wants payment? Was it a foreign chick?"

"It's my ex-girlfriend," Finn mumbled, feeling bad about telling a complete stranger this. "I moved recently, and she keeps calling me about...about this baby." He sniffed, although he didn't really want to cry in front of the other teenager, who seemed extremely hard and cool. "B-But I've got a new girlfriend here. I really like her..."

To his surprise, Puck touched his arm gently. "Dude, that's harsh." He sighed. "It's never a good situation to be in. So, what has she said?"

"Quinn...Quinn wants me to go back to Lima," Finn choked out. "S-She's Christian, a-and she doesn't want an abortion...but her parents will kick her out if they ever find out. S-She just wants me there, s-so she has support."

"So, what's the problem?" Puck asked. "I mean, you go with her to get rid of the baby, and then you come back to your new girlfriend and live life." He leaned in closer to Finn. "Seriously. Just tell your parents you want to go back for a weekend to see a friend, and they won't even hesitate."


"Look, there's got to be a reason why you suddenly want to visit your friends," Burt accused, watching his step-son pack his suitcase.

Finn straightened up. "No. No reason. I just...really feel like seeing my friends."

"I see..." Burt took a step forward. "So it has nothing to do with someone called 'Quinn' repeatedly calling here then."

Finn went very pale. "She's been calling here?"

"Yeah," Burt said, raising an eyebrow. "I also happen to know that she's your girlfriend – or was your girlfriend at some point." He sighed. "Look, buddy...I'm not trying to be nosey. But is something going on here that me and your Mom should be aware about?"

The tall teenager bit his lip and tried to shake his head. "No...well...I don't know." He collapsed back onto the bed, knowing that he'd been caught out. "Burt...I got her pregnant. There, I said it. And now, s-s-s-she wants an abortion, a-a-and she wants me there..."

He felt his step-father sit down next to him and put a large arm around him. "It's okay," He murmured, his voice surprisingly soft and comforting. "We all get in situations like that from time-to-time..."

Finn shook his head angrily, not wanting to cry. "I can't believe I got her pregnant. I'm such an ass, too, 'cause I broke up with her-"

"Finn," Burt told him seriously. "Go to Ohio. Look, she can't force you to keep up a long distance relationship with her, but it's only right if you go to be with her when she...when gets it done." He paused for a moment. "I dunno if this is overstepping or anything, but I don't mind going with you. This can't be easy on you at all."

"No," Finn muttered. "It's not." He looked up, finally feeling calm enough to. "Alright," He agreed. "You can come."


Carole had just been pouring out some coffee to take to work when there was a knock at the kitchen door. She turned in time to see Sue make her way inside, holding a plate of cupcakes in her hand. "Oh, Sue..."

"Just thought I'd bring these cupcakes," Sue said casually, walking over and sitting down by the table.

"Now's not really a good time," Carole started apologetically. "Really, I'm just about to head out to work-"

"It's a peace offering," Sue carried on, acting as if the other woman hadn't spoken. "For Becky sneaking into the house all the time." She leaned forwards, her voice lowering slightly. "I think it's time I started strapping her in again at night, if I'm honest."

Carole blinked. "Uh...well...thank you for the cupcakes. I'm not really a fan of cupcakes, but-"

"Ha!" Sue snorted. "They're not for you! At your age? You might as well just glue a stick of butter to your ass." Carole's smile disappeared. "No, these are for Pear Hips – the gay one who sings like an angel."

Carole reached forwards to take the plate off of her. "Well...thank you." That was when the older woman started to stare at her, as if realising something. Getting slightly annoyed, she bit out a "What?", glaring at her slightly.

Sue just stared even more. "You're knocked up. I can smell it like a truffle pig can smell truffles." Sue gave a small smile. "I could smell that little...angel...the second I walked in the door. I mean, your hormones reek of pregnancy."


"So, is Pear Hips at home? I'd like to make sure he gets these cupcakes personally." She smirked slightly. "I'm just a sucker for penance."

"No," Carole murmured, still shocked by what Sue had said. "He's...he's out with a friend."

Sue stood up and turned to leave. "Well, I'll come back later-"

"Sue." Sue turned around, wondering what she wanted. "I know this's a weird question, but..." Carole cleared her throat. "But do you smell anything else about the baby?"

Sue turned back to sit at the table. "Coffee; two sugars and a great deal of half and half." Carole went to pour it out, listening carefully for whatever Sue said. "Are you worried about anything in particular?" She frowned when Carole put the coffee in front of her with one of the cupcakes. "I told you, those are for Porcelain."

"He's not going to eat both of them," Carole stated, going to cut it in half. "He's strict about the food in this house...we can split this one in half." Sue just looked down at her coffee, not touching her half of the cupcake. "Can I ask you a personal question?" Sue nodded slowly, watching to make sure that the other woman didn't put the other half of the cake in her mouth. "What made know...adopt Becky?"

"Well," Sue answered, trying to keep her tone light. "My sister had Down's Syndrome, and she was my biggest hero. Just because she has a disability, it doesn't make her any less of a good person, does it?" She sat up straight. "A parent never turns their back on their child. All of mine were...pure love, I guess."

"You have other kids?" Carole asked in surprise, forgetting about the food in her hand.

"I adopted four," Sue answered, eyes glazing over with memories. "I really should have stopped after one. See, I had my uterus removed when I was younger, so me and partner at the time couldn't have children. Shame, because the kids would have been attractive and strong ones too – good sportsmen."

"Did all of them have Down's?"

Sue shook her head and sighed. "No. The first...he was a model of physical perfection. I lost him other things." Sue shot straight up, clearly not used to giving out information such as this. "Your baby is fine. No more of this sad talk."

At that moment, Burt walked into the kitchen, carrying his suitcase. "Ooh...cupcake-"

"Not for you!" Sue snapped angrily, and he frowned at her. "I don't think your baboon heart could take it." She looked up to see Santana walk into the kitchen as well. "Santana, wrap these up until the Pear Hips can have them. And don't forget the crumbs on the table either." Santana did so, not looking at the older woman. "Santana and I go way back...isn't that right?"

Santana didn't say anything, and just stared at the tall woman.

"I even employed her once. I just hope her dusting's improved now that she works for you."

"Your sense of humour was – and still is – a delight," Santana said stiffly as Sue stood up, a small smirk on her lips.

Sue turned back to Burt and Carole. "Congratulations. There's nothing greater than the promise of a new child, as they say." She opened the kitchen door, her voice dropping. "Or a greater tragedy when that promise is broken." With that she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Burt turned around to look at his wife, only to find himself face to face with Santana. "Do you want me to take your case to the car?" She drawled out, smiling flirtatiously. Feeling numb, he nodded and watched her walk out of the kitchen.

"I wish you didn't have to go," Carole sighed, turning his attention back to her.

"You guys will be fine without me," He promised. "I mean, Kurt's not going to misbehave just 'cause I'm not here...and it's only for a couple of days."

"I know," She muttered. "I'd just feel a lot safer if you both stayed."

"Well, look on the bright side," He told her, putting an arm around her for comfort. "At least you know that Finn's going to be safe while he's gone. And I know that Kurt's gonna be safe too."

If only he knew.


Kurt liked his step-mother – honestly, he did – but the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was sitting and watching a movie with her while he had a lot on his mind; Blaine, the attack...

There was a knock on his bedroom door, and he looked up from his revision. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Kurt shouted back, quickly getting up to turn the music from his iPod off.

He went to open his door, only to find that Carole was standing there with a large cupcake on a plate, looking quite hopeful. "Hi," She said awkwardly. "That crazy lady from next door made you a cupcake."

"Huh," Kurt muttered, already retreating further into his room to sit on his bed. "Too bad I'm not hungry."

Carole stepped into the room, not quite sure what to say or do. She put the plate down on his dressing table and sat opposite him on the bed. "So, since your Dad and Finn are away, I figured we could have a little...night in together. You know, we could watch a movie, maybe even just have a little lady-chat-"

"No thanks," Kurt muttered, going back to his homework. "Too much homework."

There was a small pause between the two. "Are you mad at me?" Carole asked nervously, not liking how withdrawn he was.

Kurt looked up and grabbed the plate with the cupcake that she'd placed next to his bed. "Why don't you eat this, Carole? I mean, you're eating for two, right?" When Carole just stared at him, he sighed. "I'm not stupid. I heard you guys celebrating in the kitchen; besides, it's obvious. You've stopped drinking wine after dinner, and you're gaining weight. No offence."

Carole sighed as well, knowing she'd been caught out. "Kurt...I was honestly going to tell you tonight-"

"Why?" He asked, getting slightly irritated. "Did you think I'd get mad at you and my Dad? Did you think I'd get insecure, and think that I was being replaced?" He shook his head. "I'm not angry about the baby; I've always wanted a little brother or sister. I'm just angry that you guys assumed I wouldn't be happy." He sat back, not looking her in the eye. "And anyway, you know the statistics, especially if you have kids at your age..."

"I know," Carole admitted. "I know. It wasn't exactly planned, but..." She sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No thanks," Kurt muttered. "I'm busy."

Carole stared at him for a few moments, not sure what to do; in the end, she stood up and left the room, knowing it was best to leave him alone.

Kurt watched her leave before sitting up again, grabbing the plate with the cupcake, and standing up; he walked over to the doorway, left it outside, and shut the door firmly. He didn't want it.


"Thanks, Finn."

Finn gave her a weak smile. "So, you're sure your parents are definitely gone for the weekend?"

Quinn laughed, leaning against him happily. "If you're worried about getting caught in my room, you're safe."

"Cool." He looked around, wondering what the hell he was doing.

"So," Quinn said, trying to start a conversation. "You're sure that your step-father doesn't mind staying with a friend for the night? I mean, he could have totally stayed in his own room here…"

"No, he's fine," Finn assured her, giving her a small grin. "He didn't want to interrupt anything between us; he said he needed to catch up with his friends anyway."

Quinn smiled, relaxing completely as she took a sip of her drink. "You know, Finn, I really appreciate you being here...just until everything's over and done with."

"It's the least I can do," Finn told her honestly, and she nuzzled her blonde head into his shoulder. He briefly had a flashback of Rachel doing that in the garden of the house, and tried to shake it off. "Are you sure you don't want anyone else to be there? For extra support?"

"There isn't anyone else," Quinn admitted sadly. "You're the only one I could tell about it..." She sighed. "I feel so bad. I mean, what God would think of me doing a our baby..." She shook her head, trying to get rid of her guilt. "It's the right thing – it has to be." Finn nodded in agreement, taking a long sip of his drink. That was when the doorbell went off, and Quinn jumped up with a bright expression on her face. "Pizza! Stay here while I get it!"

Finn nodded again, watching to make sure she'd left the room before he took out his phone; he kept on getting texts from Rachel, who was wondering where he'd been. He'd guiltily told her that he was with a long-time best friend of his, and that he'd be back the next evening.

"Are you kidding me?!"

Finn shot upwards, surprised by his ex-girlfriend's shocked yell. "Quinn..."

"No!" She snapped, tears filling her eyes as she put the pizza boxes down on her dresser. "You promised that you were going to be here for me, Finn! And what are you doing? You're texting someone – is it your new girlfriend?"

"Quinn, stop it!" He stood up, hoping to try and calm her down.

"Give me your phone!" She yelled, reaching up to try and grab it; luckily, he was a lot taller than her, so she failed miserably. "You're meant to be here for me!"

"I am here for you!" He tried, putting his arms around her; because of his size, her attempts to push him away fell short. "I am here for you...I promised, and I'm keeping to that promise." She stopped struggling so much, and he took that as a good sign. "Anyway, my Mom keeps texting me because she's getting worried – never been this far away from home before.

Quinn pulled away, calmed down completely by his reassurances. "O-Okay..."

"No more calls or texts," He promised, putting his phone into his suitcase for extra proof. "Now, where are those pizzas?"


What am I doing with my life? Carole thought to herself bitterly as she watched someone being slash-murdered on-screen. Her own step-son didn't want to spend time with her, and although she knew it was probably just the hormones caused by her pregnancy that were making her feel this way, she felt incredibly sorry for herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the doorbell went off. She sat up, pushing herself out of bed, and looked at the alarm clock; it was nearly midnight. Who'd be calling at their house at this time in the evening? Deciding to find out, she went downstairs, reaching the door just as the person rung the bell again. "Who is it?" She put her eye to the peep-hole, and looked out onto the front porch.

A pretty blonde girl turned around, looking at the door with hope in her eyes. "Excuse me, M'am," She said slowly. "I don't want to bother you, but I'm hurt and needing some help." It was only then that Carole noticed there was blood on the side of her head.

"What happened to you?" She asked, not feeling at all right about everything.

The girl was obviously caught off-guard by this. "I'm hurt," She repeated slowly. "And I need help. O-Open the door."

"You said that," Carole said, now feeling suspicious. "Can you tell me what happened? How did you get hurt?"

"Can't you see the blood on my face?" The girl asked, looking worried as she touched the side of her head. She looked to her left and back again, getting more panicked. "He's out here, let me in!" Carole bit her lip, deciding that it was best, and locked the door, causing a loud click. The girl noticed and got more anxious. "What kind of woman are you? He's coming, he's going to stab me!"

"I...I'm..." Carole stuttered, feeling awful. The girl started to bang loudly on the door, dry-sobbing. "I'm going to get help! Hold on!"

The girl didn't stop banging as Carole quickly hurried away to the kitchen, looking for her phone which she'd left charging. She froze when she found that the charger was unplugged, and her phone missing.

And then, just like that, the banging stopped. Turning around nervously, Carole walked back to the front door, looking around cautiously. She leaned forwards slightly to look through the peephole, only to find that the girl had disappeared. She heard someone walk past from behind her, and spun around to find nobody there. Heart beating faster, she took a couple of steps forwards and called out to her step-son from the bottom of the stairs. "Kurt! Kurt, get down here!"

Kurt came strolling down the stairs, looking annoyed. "Carole, this is very important, homework, I have to get it..." He stopped when he noticed the panicked look on the woman's face. "What's the matter?"

"Where's your phone?" Carole asked quickly.

"In my room."

"Go get it," She ordered, a lump in her throat. "Look, dial 9-1-1-"

She was cut off by the doorbell ringing again. "Who's that?" Kurt asked, suddenly nervous.

"Just go do it," Carole pleaded. "Go to your room, lock the door, call the Police, and don't come out until I tell you to."

Kurt nodded, realising that this was serious, and turned to run back up the stairs as the doorbell rung over and over again. Once in his room, he locked the door behind him and ran to his schoolbag, looking for his phone. All that he could find was schoolbooks and pencils, and he quickly looked around his room in case his phone was lying around somewhere else.

He didn't notice that someone else was in his room, creeping up on him.


Downstairs, Carole had grabbed a lamp, and was holding it so that she was ready if someone tried to break in. "STOP IT! I'm not letting you in this house! I've called 9-1-1, and the police are on their way!"

She looked through the peephole again, and saw that someone had their back to her; they spun around, and she saw that they were wearing a black pin-up mask. Jumping back out of shock, she didn't realise that someone else wearing a mask had snuck up behind her.

As she came face-to-face with them, she let out an ear-piercing shriek.


Kurt and Carole watched as the three home-invaders surveyed them, each of them holding bags full of something.

"We have money," Carole blurted out. "Please, just take anything!"

"We're not here for money," One of them – a female – said, and Carole realised that it was the girl who'd been at the door. "Masks off."

All three of them reached up and removed their masks; two young girls and a young man.

"The transcript was very clear," The blonde female continued. "The teachers saw C. Menkins - that he had nothing to hide." She checked her watch. "Twelve minutes-"

"And then the fun begins," The other girl finished off – a skinny brunette teenager - smiling at the thought.

The blonde pulled something out of her bag. "I have something to show you guys." She unwrapped it from the cloth it was wrapped in, revealing a chipped ashtray.

"No way," The boy said – a mixed-race teenager, by the looks of it – as he grinned.

"I got it off of eBay. It's authenticated," She looked around at the companions, clearly pleased with herself. "It's the one he used to bash Emma."

"Let me see it, Kitty..." The boy said, grabbing it and grinning. "Woah."

The brunette teenager looked at Kurt and Carole, who had been watching in horror. "Now, who goes first?" Kitty surveyed both of them, tapping her knife against the chin thoughtfully as her friend spoke. "Which one's Shannon?"

The mixed-race boy and the brunette both looked at the blonde for confirmation. She pointed her knife at Carole tauntingly, before changing her mind and pointing it at Kurt. From beside her, Carole felt Kurt's breathing pick up. The brunette girl threw some clothes at him, and the other four people in the room waited to see what he would do.

Kurt Hummel was a fighter; he threw the clothes back at his captors. "Screw you, you psychos!" He hissed out. "I'm not putting it on!"

"You have to," The brunette told him sternly. "Everything has to be perfect."

The boy leaned down at grabbed at Kurt's shirt, ripping it open. "Take your clothes off!"

"Hey!" Carole snapped, not okay with them treating her step-son like that. They ignored her, and Kurt kicked at the other teenage boy to keep away from him. "Look, put it on me!"

"Oh, you'll both be wearing uniforms," Kitty said, smirking at her. "C. Menkins hated teachers; he had a bad experience with a teacher who liked to hit children with the ruler. That's why he took Shannon-" At this, she pointed at Kurt. "-upstairs and drowned her in the tub. Excuse the pronoun difference." She moved to stand in front of Carole, smirking down at her. "And you, Emma...He saved you for last."

"C. Menkins was the first, before Manson," The brunette informed them happily. "He changed the culture. We're paying tribute to him."

Carole looked up at them, feeling quite sick. "We're not going to be part of your re-enactment," She told them quietly, not sure what the Hell she was doing.

Kitty rolled her eyes, and tossed the clothes back at Kurt. "Put this on. You won't like it if I have to make you."

Kurt looked down at the clothes in his lap, trying to come up with a plan. As he stood up he looked between the clothes and the home invaders quickly; making his decision suddenly, he threw the clothes into the blonde, and kicked out to knock her backwards.

Not wasting a single moment, he sprinted out of the room, leaving his step-mother with the three captors; when they tried to run after him, Carole managed to kick out from her position on the floor, and knocked them over so that they were stalled.

Kurt, panting harshly, fled through the kitchen and to the door that he knew lead to the basement. He looked behind him, wondering if they were following him, only to have a hand shoot out and wrap around his mouth; he was pulled into the pantry, his screams muffled by the person's hand.

He looked up, expecting to see one of the attackers – but to his relief, he was face to face with Blaine.

"Blaine," He panted, trying to be quiet but failing because of how out of breath he was. "Blaine, they're trying to kill me and Carole-"

"Get them to the basement," The shorter boy ordered, not sparing anytime.

"What are you talking about?"

"The basement!" Blaine snapped, voice low. "Get them to the basement!"

With that, Blaine stepped backwards just as Kitty came into the room, hiding himself from view. Kurt was grabbed by her, and by the time he'd been dragged out the door, Blaine was gone.


"This is some serious art," The teenage boy commented, looking around the living room with awe. "Why are you trying to cover it up?"

Carole sniffed from where she was tied to a chair. "I didn't like it." The boy took a step forwards so he was right in front of her; she felt awfully exposed, having him stare down at her like that.

"You know, no one's going to come and save you," He taunted, bending down so that they were eye to eye.

"They don't have to," Carole murmured, her voice getting higher and higher as she fought back tears. "You could just stop now."

"Why would I want to?" The boy taunted. "Silly." As he walked past her, still admiring the room, Carole saw that Becky was standing in the next room, watching what was going on.

She felt hope ignite itself in her chest. "Well," She said slowly, making sure not to give anything away to him. "I don't think you're going to kill me tonight." The boy stopped looking at the artefacts in the room, listening intently. Carole continued, hoping that Becky would get the message. "Because I think that someone is going to stop this, and they're going to get help...and you're all going to fry."

"Brutal," The teenager breathed, clearly not suspecting that someone else was in the room. He turned to look into the next room where Becky had been standing.

She was gone already.

He smirked at her just as the faucet upstairs started to run. Carole looked up at the ceiling, wondering what the Hell was going to happen to Kurt.

Please…somebody help us.


"What's taking you so long?" Kitty asked, pointing her knife at Kurt. Kurt glared up at her, trying to wriggle into the large gym shorts he'd been given – it was obvious that this 'Shannon' person had been a P.E teacher of some kind.

The brunette teenage girl walked into the room, and as Kurt looked up he realised that she was eating the cupcake made for him earlier.

"Really, Marley?" Kitty snapped, getting annoyed. "You're eating?"

"It was, like, sitting there," Marley defended with her mouth full of cupcake. "It practically said 'eat me'."

Kitty rolled her eyes and looked back at Kurt. "Hurry Up! Time's ticking!"

"What's going on downstairs?" Kurt asked, hoping that Carole hadn't been hurt yet.

"Did you get all the cell phones?" Kitty asked, ignoring his question – it was clear she was getting more and more agitated.

Marley nodded. "Yeah. I told you..." She paused, going slightly pale. "They're in the kitchen, and..." She stopped, a loud rumble sounding from her stomach. "Uhh...stomach ache..."

"Answer me!" Kurt shouted, getting worried. "What's he doing to my step-mother?"

Marley let out a groan. "Jesus...I think I'm going to shit myself."

"Not in the staging area!" The blonde gritted out, looking pissed off.

"D-Don't start without me!" Marley warned, backing away and running to find another bathroom.

Kitty watched after her, shocked. Kurt tried to move forwards, but she caught his movements and grabbed his arm.

"Are you kidding me?" She drawled, pointing her knife at him and looking at her watch. "It's ten-fifty-seven." She looked back up at him. "Get in the tub!" She pushed him to stand in the tub, and then stuck her head out of the bathroom doorway. "Marley, hurry up! We're starting soon!"

Suddenly, standing there with the water running around his bare ankles, Kurt had a brain wave that might just save him – if he could pull it off.

Kitty looked back over at Kurt, who was now giving her a hopefully pitying smile. "You have to put someone under the tub for three minutes until they lose consciousness. The brain begins to die from oxygen deprivation-"

The countertenor blinked and continued to smile, giving a small laugh.

"This is funny to you?" Kitty demanded, taking a threatening step forwards and brandishing her knife.

"What's funny is that you think you know everything about this house," Kurt retorted smugly. "Really, you know nothing. This isn't even the right tub."

"Second floor bathroom," Kitty shot at him – although she did look rather nervous now. "I studied the crime scene photos, I know what it looked like-"

Kurt shook his head confidently. "The one he used is in the basement," He informed her. "We remodelled this bathroom after we moved in."

Kitty took another step closer. "You think I'm going to fall for that?"

"It's a grimy, claw foot tub, with a rusty faucet," Kurt said, completely guessing.

Luckily he seemed to be right, as Kitty looked around desperately at the running water and the silver bath tub that Kurt was standing in before moving back to the doorway.



"Can I ask you a question?"

Sue smiled up at him politely, her hands skimming his shirtless torso.

"Do you think I can model?"

Sue looked at him up and down; with his blue eyes, tanned white skin and blonde hair, he could definitely model. "You know what...if you got a haircut, you could do anything you wanted to.”

Sam smiled at her, his hand reaching to stroke her wrinkled face. "You're beautiful too, you know?"

They were interrupted, however, by a loud knock on the bedroom door. Sue rolled her eyes and stood up to open it – it was Becky. "I told you," Sue hissed. "I was in a business meeting. You're meant to be watching Robin."

"There's a bad man next door!" Becky told her, looking serious.

"I know," Sue agreed. "I don't like Baboon Heart or his spawn either, but they own the place and that's that. Now go and watch Robin." She slammed the door in Becky's face, turning around to look at Sam again. "What were we saying?"


Marley retched into the waste basket in Kurt's room, holding her hair back. "This isn't right," She murmured. She puked up another bit of barf, and spat to clean her mouth out. She pushed herself up off the floor, clutching her stomach in pain as she wandered out of the bedroom in search for Kitty. "You guys..." She walked down the hallway. "Kitty? I...I think I need to go to the hospital. Maybe we could come back later and finish this off..." She walked into the bathroom, only to find that nobody was in there.

Out of the corner of her eye, suddenly, she thought she was someone walk behind a curtain near the bathtub. "Hey?" She called out, moving forwards. "Where did you guys go?"

When she looked behind the curtain, there was no one there. She breathed heavily, feeling that she was going to puke again, and turned around.

Suddenly, someone had struck an axe through her abdomen. She gasped out, trying to get a good look at the person; a teenage boy with gelled hair.


He furrowed his eyebrows with concentration, pulled the axe out of her stomach, and then struck her again.


Carole couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief when the intruder she was with cut her bonds open, freeing her hands and feet from the chair she was tied to. Even though it probably meant she was another step closer to dying, it was still a relief to not be tied like a hog.

"Dress up time," He chuckled, pulling some clothes out of a nearby bag. "Get up." He yanked her up, and she whimpered in pain. "Don't try anything."

Carole looked down at the ground; she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of looking at her face. "Will you turn around while I change?"

"No," He snapped immediately.

"Then I will," She turned around so that her back was to him, well aware that he was leering at her from behind.

As she lifted her jumper over her head, she heard him snort to himself. "Stupid looking clothes that teachers wear…I can totally get why he hated them."

She stopped undressing and looked around the room for something she could hit him with. There wasn't anything within her reach that she could go for-

-except for the ashtray that had been left on the table.

Making her mind up quick, she swung her jumper around, hitting him in the face, and made to grab the ashtray. Reacting fast, he grabbed her legs, tripping her up before she could grab it. He rolled her onto her back and sat on top of her, unsheathing his knife.

"I don't give a shit how you dress!" He snarled. It was just a couple of centimetres away from her outstretched arm, and she reached for it...just a little further...

As he put his knife to her throat, she managed to grip the edge of it, and swung it into his face.

He was knocked backwards, but still conscious; she quickly raised herself so that she was above him, and slammed the ashtray onto his face a couple more times until she was sure he was passed out.

Giving a huge sigh of relief that she wasn't dead, she remembered that her step-son still needed her.


The lights flickered slightly as they turned on, a whirring sound in the background. Kurt tried not to shake as he felt Kitty press the knife to his back, taking small steady steps down to the basement; he didn't know what Blaine had planned, and he didn't really want to find out.

"You better not be messing with me," Kitty warned when they reached the bottom of the steps, looking around.

"I'm not," Kurt said slowly. "It's down here...right around the corner."

As he turned, the lights went out, leaving Kitty in a pitch black darkness.

She looked around hopelessly, trying to find out where the teenage hostage had gone. "Where are you?! You little shit, you better hope the lights don’t come back on-"

"Over here, you stupid bitch!"

A lone light turned on from her right, and Kitty slowly made her way towards it and the voice that had spoken. Stepping into the room she looked around, breathing harshly.

"I already filled it with water for you."

She spun to look at Blaine, who was gesturing casually to a nearby bathtub full of water. Kitty took a step closer, wondering what the Hell was going on...


Upstairs, Carole was searching for Kurt. It didn't escape her notice that there was blood smeared across the walls, and she tried to ignore the churning in her stomach.

She quickly ran to the bathroom, remembering that this was where the other home invaders had taken him.


Kitty pointed her knife in front of her, ready if the other teenager attacked. She looked into the bathtub next to where Blaine was standing.

There was a dead body in there. Kitty let out a mangled scream, her hand reaching to cup her mouth in shock.

Slowly, the dead body sat up and glared at her.


Carole groaned in frustration when she got to the bathroom and realised that Kurt wasn't there. Her panic levels were starting to rise, and she hoped that the boy downstairs was not going to wake up anytime soon.

Meanwhile, Kurt had shot out of the basement, ignoring the screams he could hear. He slammed the basement door shut behind him and ran to look for Carole so that they could get the hell out of there.

Just as he reached the staircase, Carole came running down, breathing harshly.



Wasting no time, Carole grabbed his arm and they looked around for any of the intruders to appear. "Come on, let's run!"

They made for the front door together, running to get away from the horror in their house.


Sue sighed as she watched Sam sleep; he looked innocent, and-

She stopped. There were footsteps running up the street.

Sue stood up to look out the window, and just as she pulled the curtain back, she could hear the voices of her neighbours screaming.

"HELP!" Carole was screaming, holding onto Kurt tight as they ran for it. "HELP! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!"

Sue watched, her adopted daughter's warning coming back to her quickly.


When Jake woke up, his head was throbbing. He vaguely remembered the bitch hitting him with an ashtray, and he supposed that she'd run away.

As he blinked, he thought he could see someone walk past the doorway. Groaning, he pushed himself up off the floor, and mumbled things to himself as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Kitty! Kitty...the bitch has gone! I think she's downstairs!"

Groggily, he made his way into the kitchen and down to the basement, vaguely aware that his companions had gone downstairs with the gay teenage boy to drown him.

The basement was flooded in total darkness, he realised as he touched his head. The steps creaked as he went down them, and he looked around for a light; he saw one to his right, and made his way towards it.

That was until he heard someone walk behind him.

Jake spun around, thinking that it was Carole sneaking past him. "Man, I'm just gonna kill that bitch!" He ran to catch up with the person, only to find himself in another room.

"Holy Shit."

The first thing he saw was Kitty, her throat slit and her body limp on the cold tiled floor. His gaze swivelled up, and he found himself looking at two people; one of them looked as if they'd been drowned, and the other as if she'd been stabbed. Both of them were wearing outfits not too different from the ones the invaders had forced Kurt and Carole into that night.

If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he was looking at the two teachers Cooter Menkins had killed back in 1968.


Finn couldn't help but feel awful as he watched Quinn fill out the necessary paperwork for the procedure – to top it off, it made him feel even worse to know that he couldn't go into the room with her.

A noise from behind Quinn made them both look up; a young lady was being wheeled away in a wheelchair, looking exhausted and ill.

Quinn looked back at the paperwork, trying not to panic. "I'm okay," She told him numbly, giving him a small but obviously fake smile. "Really. It's the right thing, for both of us."

"I'm so sorry," Finn apologised, feeling it pouring out of him. "I'm so sorry you have to make this decision because of me. I wish I could fix it."

"I just wish you could come in with me," Quinn breathed, looking down at her lap.

Finn opened his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by a nurse. "Quinn? They're ready for you."

Quinn took a deep breath and gave Finn an anxious look. "I'll see you's over."

"I'll be here when you get back," Finn assured her, giving her hand one last squeeze.

Quinn slowly stood up, taking her paperwork with her, and walked over to the waiting nurse. She handed her the paperwork, and followed her to the have the procedure done.

Finn, left on his own, put his head in his hands, dragging his fingers over his face as he tried to get his head around everything that was going on. Suddenly, his phone went off, and he saw that it was from Burt.

Sighing, he answered it. "Burt -"

"Finn, we've got to go home now."

Finn frowned. "Are you alright, dude? You sound worried..."

Burt breathed out. "I...Carole and Kurt...someone invaded our house...there was a home invasion…"

Finn shot upwards, forgetting completely about his promise to Quinn to still be there afterwards. "Burt, I'll be there in five minutes."


Sue tutted as she walked through the basement, finally stopping in front of the dead bodies of Jake and Kitty lying in pools of blood. Blaine and Santana stood nearby, watching over the two bodies calmly.

"Jesus Christ." Sue turned to look at Blaine with slight pride. "Is this your handiwork?"

"No," Blaine muttered, eyes still fixed on the bodies.

"It was them," Santana added, her voice morose.

There was a short silence between the three. "We have to get rid of the bodies," Blaine decided.

Santana nodded slowly and turned away. "I'll get the shovel. You get the bleach."


"So you were both in Lima when this took place?"

Burt and Finn both nodded; Finn looked down at the table as his step-father muttered a, "Yeah.”

"What was your business there?"

Finn didn't look at his mother or step-father – he was leaving it to Burt to answer all of the questions, in case he screwed up.

"Finn wanted to see some of his old friends there," Burt said to the detectives, his tone honest and open. "I went with him because he's not eighteen yet, and I knew that his Mom would want him to be safe."

"What happened?" Finn blurted out, and all of the adults looked at him. "I mean, to the guys who did it?"

"Well, we found Miss Marley Rose about half a mile from here," The first detective, a bulky one, informed them. "She was practically cut in half – we think that she got scared halfway through, tried to make a run, and then her friends went after her and did a Black Dahlia on her."

"The attackers have been recreating murders around the country," The second one, a tall one, continued. "We'll keep looking for the other two. Don't worry."

"Even in a town this big, people don't just disappear." They both stood up, clearly done gathering the stories they needed. "We're going to check the kitchen for more prints."

As they left the room, Kurt walked in. He looked truly awful, Finn decided; he wasn't wearing as many layers, and he was just so pale.

Then again, Finn decided he couldn’t be blamed considering what had happened in the last few weeks.

Burt stood up, worried at seeing his son so uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn. "Kurt...Carole said something about...about some boy helping you escape..."

"Yeah, Blaine," Kurt informed him, looking down at the floor. "He's a friend of mine." He looked around at Carole. "Thanks for not dragging him into all of that, by the way..."

"Well, what was this boy doing in the house?" Burt demanded to know.

Kurt shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"


"You think I let him in?" The teenager fumed, angry that his father would assume such a thing. "I don't know why he was here...but I'm glad he was." He glared at his father. "You weren't." Kurt walked past his father to go into the next room, only to stop and turn to face his step-mom. "You were really brave, Carole." He gave her a small smile and left the room.

"He's just shaken up after the whole ordeal," Carole offered up, knowing what her husband was thinking.

Finn blinked, not sure what to do. "I'm going up to my room," He decided hoarsely. "I'll...I want to sleep." And with that he left the room, knowing that the two adults were going to want to talk in private.

"I'm sorry we weren't here," Burt apologised, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. "But we had to do something important."

"We're not blaming you," She murmured, looking at the table. "You're here now, and that's alright." She took a deep breath and stood up to leave the room. "But I want to sell this house, Burt."

"Wait, what?" Burt asked, shocked.

Carole sighed. "We're selling this house."

"But we just moved in!"

"After what's happened, you still want to live here?" She asked, looking confused. "Burt, we were attacked! I can't stay here!”

Burt opened his mouth to argue, only to be cut off.

“I’m pregnant,” Carole reminded him firmly, a hand dropping to her stomach in an almost protective way. “Don’t you understand what could have happened to not just us but to the baby?!”

He didn’t get a chance to respond, though, as she stormed out of the room with just a glimmer of a tear in her eyes.

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