- - - -

Blaine had just come home from the local library after tedious hours of studying his ass off. To others, Blaine seemed like one of those people who are just naturally smart – but truth is - he studied like hell. The college student had a strong determination inside of him that, while driving him to do great things, also sometimes drove him to madness. There was no denying it, he's stressed out. Stressed about everything - his family, his minimum-wage job, his non-existent love-life, and his constant need to please everybody around him.

Ting. Ting. Ting.

Blaine knew that sound. Fuck, now his roof was leaking. Just one more thing to pile onto his never ending misery.

Don't get him wrong, Blaine Anderson is by no means a rude person – in fact, he's one of the most friendly people you will ever have the pleasure to meet. He's the type of person that would give you the shirt off his back. Selfless. Caring. He has a whole lot of love to give.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Ten bucks says it's the boss calling me into work tomorrow on my one free day off.” Blaine thought to himself as he approached the ringing phone, “Five bucks says it's a survey.”, he placed his left hand on the maroon coloured phone, and quipped to himself one last time to himself before answering it, “I'll shit myself if it's my Dad.”

“Hello?”

Blaine couldn't hear anything on the other end of the phone but breathing. The breaths were irregular, it was like the person on the other end of the phone had ran a marathon. Blaine knew a prank call when he heard one, and he hung up. When were those kids next door going to give him a break? Getting asked, “Hey, do you have Prince Albert in a can?” gets really old after the fifteenth time.

The phone rang again.

“Those persistent little bastards.” Blaine muttered to himself, picked up the phone, and slammed it down. Hopefully that would send them a message. Blaine sighed to himself and walked to his stack of fresh laundry, grabbed a fresh towel and went off to take a shower, then he'd fall asleep and his day would begin anew. The same old routine he's been following for a year now.

- - - -

An hour later, silence filled the air of the young man's house, and then he heard a sharp crash. It was the sound of glass smashing, it was a sound he was quite familiar with. Blaine took off his reading glasses and set them down on his bedside next to where he set the book he was engrossed in.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Blaine checked the clock, the time was 12:06am. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten phoned at midnight, it had been happening to him for the past eight days, and he was fairly positive it was the same kids calling him during the daytime. He would receive a call at midnight, with no one on the other end of it, and he'd hang up. Blaine grasped the ringing phone and bring it up to his ear, prepared to hang up immediately like he always does.

“Hello?”

He heard a static-like noise from the other end, and much to his surprise, someone spoke.

“Don't turn around.”

A classic reverse psychology technique. Father says to kid, “Stop touching the brand new car!” - Eight times out of ten, because they were told not to, the kid touches the car again.

Everything was silent, and with the phone still pressed up to his ear, Blaine felt hot air slowly wrap around his neck, and then he heard something far too familiar to him – the sound of heavy breathing.

There was someone behind him, breathing on him.

Blaine quickly turned around to face the intruder in his home – but it was too late, he was being grabbed by the shoulders and a rag was forced to his mouth carrying a sickening smell – chloroform.