Hadn’t he warned the boy that if he had said anything, he would kill him? Kill as in permanently remove every breath from his body and his existence from the planet? He had, and now, all he had to do was wait until Kurt was alone with no one to protect him. He spent all Spanish class deciding how to, and decided there was nothing better than an old fashioned beat down.

So, when he was sure that no one was still in the hallways and classrooms of McKinley High School, David Karofsky was prepared to use every means he had to beat the life out of his victim. When he first grabbed Kurt from behind, his large hands clutching around the designer fabric, the boy had tried to run. The smaller boy had immediately attempted to work his way out of the coat he was wearing, trying to escape whatever fate Karofsky had for him. He tried working the buttons away, but eventually was prepared to pop them off in a frantic escape.

Karofsky laughed and threw Kurt down. He kicked him repeatedly in the side and broke the bones beneath. When Kurt tried getting up and running again, despite the pain, he found his head and body against the lockers again and again. Karofsky choked him, punched him, and did anything else he could think of. He was enjoying it too much. He loved watching Kurt’s pain too much.

And Kurt felt it all. He felt every punch to his stomach and throat; he could feel his bones cracking underneath his skin and them poking against his organs, blood oozing from his nose, mouth, and head. His lungs felt like they were going to explode. He felt like he was dying, which was exactly what Karofsky wanted. He could taste his blood, a nauseating metallic taste that leaked from his lips as Karofsky hit him again.

Blood decorated the floor and walls, his hands and clothes. The hallways looked like a the scene from a bloody horror movie and the sound of Kurt getting slammed against the lockers and floors echoed through the empty hall, as well as Karofsky’s insults. He couldn’t keep this up much longer; it was just too much effort.

To the larger boy’s delight, Kurt eventually stopped moving, slumping into Karofsky’s fists like a dead weight.

The minute he did though, the bully instantly drew his hands away and let Kurt’s body drop to the floor. He stared at the bloody boy and smiled a sick little smile while he let his actions wash over him like a large wave.

He felt accomplished, masterly, and maybe even god-like.

He felt wonderful, relieved…

He felt ashamed.

He felt guilty.

Oh God, what had he done?

He had never thought that he would actually kill him, it was just how he felt at that moment. Karofsky stared at Kurt’s body in horror, and, slowly, began to kneel in the blood next to him. Gently he took Kurt’s head in his hands and turned it towards him. The glasz eyes were closed and the pale face dripped dark red.

He couldn’t help but think that Kurt looked absolutely beautiful. The red contrasted startlingly with his white skin and Karofsky placed a small kiss to Kurt’s lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry, but you told. I told you this would happen if you told, but you had to go an open your big mouth. I thought you were supposed to be so smart.” He said, placing another small kiss to the bloody lips before leaving Kurt upon the floor.

The small boy just laid there, unmoving until he was sure Karofsky had left. He cracked his eyes open and took a quick glance around, double checking before actually moving. His bag had been tossed away from him, against the lockers on the opposite side of the hall. It seemed so far away, but he needed his bag. His phone was inside and he needed to call someone to help him, he needed Finn or Sam, maybe even Quinn. He just needed someone.

They were the only ones who would be at school now, he was supposed to drive Finn home after football practice. Surely, if Kurt called him he would answer, and if he didn’t, Finn would have to come looking for him.

Slowly, Kurt crawled to his bag, spitting out mouthfuls of blood as he did so. What was only a few feet felt like crawling on yards of shattered glass. Breathing hurt and tears from eyes mixing with the blood on his face. His hand made a grab for the messenger’s strap and pulled the bag towards himself. Digging his phone out, he quickly dialed Finn’s number.

Quinn watched as Sam practiced with the rest of the football team. She wasn’t particularly amazed, persay, but she did enjoy watching him play and his company. Actually, she really enjoyed his company. The question that plagued her was whether or not she enjoyed it enough to be his girlfriend.

He respected her, and he had promised to never pressure her into anything. Maybe Sam would be a better boyfriend than Finn was.

Her thought process was interrupted by a loud buzzing noise on the bench next to her. Yes, she was sitting on the players’ bench, mainly because Sam asked her too. She had watched as Finn walked out onto the field with his phone in hand and left in on the bench next to her. Why hadn’t he just told the little hobbit that he was in practice? They needed all the help they could get.

She could have answered it, but instead she just let it ring and ring until it went to what she assumed was Finn’s voicemail. While she wasn’t dating him anymore, that didn’t mean that she still didn’t have his best interest at heart, and Rachel just wasn’t one of them. She could talk to him after practice.

Not more than a minute later, the phone began buzzing again. Quinn groaned and contemplated answering it and telling Rachel off, but instead she just ignored it and decided that no answer would infuriate Rachel more than her answering it. The phone’s screen went dark in her peripheral vision and she smiled to herself. Hopefully now that hobbit would stop calling.

She went back to watching the boys, who were running through some plays and, secretly, admired the Cheerios on the other side of the field. She missed being one of them dearly.

Not the extreme work-outs, diets that Coach Sylvester put them through, or the constant barrage of insults she threw at them about the performance being lame or boring, but she missed the popularity. People had parted way for her when she had been a Cheerio and now, she was just like everyone else, having to dodge slushies and insults. Maybe she could talk to Coach Sylvester and get her spot as head cheerleader back again.

Again her thoughts were disturbed by the buzzing of a cell phone, except this time it wasn’t Finn’s, it was her own.
She dug it out of her pocket and read the name. ‘Kurt’ was spelled out brightly across her screen and she answered, deciding that it had to be something important if he was calling her.

“Hello?”

“Q-Qui-Quinn?” Kurt coughed into the phone. Dear God, his side was on fire.

“Kurt? Kurt, are you okay?” She had heard his labored breathing and now she was a little concerned.

“Quinn, where’s… where’s Finn?” Kurt didn’t know how much help Quinn would be, he really needed Finn, but he wasn’t answering the phone, so he decided that calling Quinn would be his best bet since she always seemed to know where he was, which creeped him out a bit.

“He’s right here, at practice. They’re finishing up now, so he’ll be right out if that’s what you’re calling about.”

Kurt coughed again, accidently swallowing a mouthful of blood and felt like vomiting from the metallic taste.

“Quinn, I need… I need help. Karo-Karofsky, he…” Quinn paled at the mention of Karofsky’s name and started grabbing her things while trying to get Finn’s attention from her place on the sideline. Karofsky’s name was never good news.

“Kurt, where are you? Kurt, tell me where you are.” Quinn had managed to finally get Finn to come over and when he saw the worry written across her face, he ran right over.

“I’m –I’m by the Biology room. On th-the first floor.

Please…help me.” Kurt coughed again and across the school Finn, Quinn, and Sam as well, rushed from the football field to the hallways of McKinley to look for him.

“Where did he say he was? Kurt, where are you? Kurt!?” Finn had taken Quinn’s phone and tried to get an answer but Kurt had stopped answering, because it was too much work.

“First floor Biology room…at least, that’s what it sounded like what he said. “ Quinn said and immediately the trio each ran down one of McKinley’s many hallways, hoping to find Kurt.

Sam spotted him first, or at least, his blood. Light footprints made in a red liquid were what caught his attention and immediately took off in the direction they came from. He spotted Kurt on the floor, the younger boy’s white coat smeared with red and his arm bent in an angle that just did not look normal.

“Finn, I found him!” Sam called back, and ran over to Kurt, “Shit...”

On closer inspection, Sam could tell that Kurt’s arm was most defiantly broken and Kurt himself unresponsive. If it wasn’t for all the blood he was covered in and the newly forming bruises, he might have even appeared to be only sleeping. Sam tried picking him up and saw a dribble of blood come from the smaller boy’s mouth. He panicked and wondered why Finn wasn’t here yet, why wasn’t Finn here to help his little brother?

Kurt’s was still breathing, which was a good sign. Sam again tried picking him up and froze when Kurt made some form of noise, although it was probably in pain. There was just so much blood. He blocked out any other noises he thought he heard Kurt make and started carrying the smaller boy back towards the crossway of the halls. Hopefully, Finn had heard him call and would be running over right now.

“Oh my God, Kurt!” While Sam would have preferred Finn see his brother first, but instead he came across Quinn. Finn couldn’t have been far behind, and while Quinn stared in horror at Kurt’s bloody form, the quarterback came running out of another hall way.

He blinked in shock. There was no way that was Kurt. Not the little brother he had promised to protect.