CHAPTER ONE: Prologue

"Who is that, Mommy?" The little boy in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajamas pointed to a picture in the book. It was way pass his bedtime, and his eyelids were feeling heavy. But he wanted just one more story.

"That's Princess Andromeda, honey," Mrs. Karofsky squeezed her son close, and gave him a tender peck on his forehead.

"Princess Andromeda was the most beautiful maiden in the land," Miriam Karofsky accented her soft voice and the little boy listened intently. "She loved to play, dance and sing, just like you, sweetie. But her parents did something bad and made Poseidon, the god of the sea, really angry. So as a punishment, Poseidon ordered Andromeda chained to a big rock by the sea, to be eaten alive by a scary sea monster."

The little boy shivered as he studied the ornate picture before him. Princess Andromeda was indeed beautiful, with luminous skin and soft, delicate features. But the princess was arched in pain, her wrists bound over her head, her feet shackled and chained to the rock behind her. The sea roared around her, tearing at the white gown that barely covered her yielding body.

"Is that the big bad monster?" The boy's finger traced the line of sight from the princess' unfathomable gaze and pointed to a scaly dragon that slithered and coiled at the other end of the picture, emerging from beneath the waves.

"That's right, that's Cetus, the sea monster." Miriam grasped her son's hand in her own to keep it warm. "He sleeps in the darkest bowels of the ocean, but Poseidon woke him up and ordered him to terrorize the kingdom. If they don't sacrifice Andromeda to him, then he was going to eat everybody and destroy their cities."

"That's bad, Mommy," little Dave Karofsky snuggled close to his mother.

"But don't worry, dear," Miriam pointed to a boy on a white winged horse swooping in from the far corner of the sky. "See, that's Perseus. Perseus is the son of Zeus. He is strong and noble, and he's going to be the hero that saves Andromeda and defeats the sea monster."

Dave leaned in to examine the boy in a cape, wielding a sword in one hand, and a head in another.

"No human weapon can pierce through the skin of Cetus, but Perseus came up with a brilliant plan. He beheaded another monster, Medusa, because Medusa's eyes can turn anything it sees into stone. So using Medusa's head, he froze Cetus into a statue, and saved the princess and the whole kingdom."

"So he saved Andromeda?" The little boy looked up at his loving mother.

"Yes," she closed the book and began to tuck him into bed. "He saved Andromeda from being eaten by the sea monster. So everything went back to the way they were, and they lived happily ever after."

Little Dave sighed with a smile and closed his eyes.

"Good night, my darling," Miriam whispered before turning off the lights.

That was the last time she read to him.

Every once on a blue moon, Dave Karofsky would dream about his mother telling him the story of Perseus and Andromeda. Even though her face has faded to a blur after so many years, her warm smile would still burn vividly in his mind. Dave remembered how she would always crack open his bedroom door just a little, so the light from the hallway would pour in to sooth his fear of the dark.

The dream had virtually disappeared after his marriage to Holly Holiday. Holly was a substitute teacher in the Lima School District in Ohio, a kooky and sweet girl that Dave met on a blind date. They dated for a year, and marriage just felt like the next logical step.

Together with his measly salary, they rented a shabby little apartment beneath the rail tracks. Although their entire world would rattle and shake at each passing of the trains, they were content in their own little piece of heaven.

Recently, however, the dream seemed to have made a comeback into Dave's life. But rather than waking up after his mother tucks him into bed, the dream was trapping him in his memories, forcing him to look behind that door that was left ajar. Then Dave would hear the screaming, and the crying, as he watched his childlike fingers push open his bedroom door.

That's typically the moment which Dave would sit up on his bed, wide awake, his shirt drenched in sweat and his heart racing a mile a minute.

But this time, in this particular dream, it was different.

He could still see the trembling fingers of a child as he pressed his hand against the door, frightened, but drawn, like a moth to a flame.

But there was no shouting to wake him up this time. It was a different sound.

It wasn't the impact of his body against the cold, hard, floor of the grave that woke Dave Karofsky. The broken ribs, crushed bones, and fractured jaw have already rendered the man immune to pain.

It was the sound. The thud that echoed in the six-foot deep hole as his body slammed on to the dirt that brought Karofsky back to consciousness.

"You think he dead already, boss?"

Karofsky heard a cocky voice from above. The image of a man with slicked back hair and a tooth-pick in his mouth floated to Karofsky's mind. Fucking Thad Harwood. Thad always did say that one day he will dance on Karofsky's grave.

Karofsky couldn't make out the soft reply, but the loose stones and dirt that rained on him jolted his senses and he opened his eyes.

Hovering above him was a slender man in a maroon sweater and crisp, clean khakis. With his black rimmed eyeglasses and disarming smile, the young dapper gentleman could easily blend in with the thousands of hipsters in New York City. Just like any other harmless city dweller.

Except this man was far from harmless.

Karofsky gritted his teeth.

Blaine Anderson. The Wizard of Oz. The hidden kingpin behind the largest crime syndicate covering three continents. A multi-billion dollar operation that controlled the black markets, everything from human-trafficking, arms deals, drugs, to assassinations.

The man without a face. The man Special Agent Dave Karofsky was going to unmask from the shadows and, by doing so, break one of the biggest organized crime cases in the history of the FBI. That man was standing before him, as clear as day.

But Dave was going to have to take this to the grave, literally.

"It really shouldn't have come to this," Blaine seemed almost sympathetic as he examined the broken man. "I really could have used someone like you. Even after your betrayal, I was willing to forgive you."

Dave would have chuckled if it weren't for the sharp pain in his chest when he inhaled. He had just been locked in a basement and tortured for three days. Was that how the man forgives?

"Especially since Kurt has taken a special liking to you," Blaine continued with a shrug of the shoulders.

Kurt.

The name elicited a more pained response from Dave than the beatings ever could. It's been three days since they were caught, and since their capture Dave had endured endless punches, kicks, cuts, and burns. When he signed up for the undercover operation to unearth the leader of the crime syndicate, he had accepted that this might be how it would end for him. But Kurt… Dave recalled Kurt's frail frame, his delicate wrists and skin so tender to the touch. The thought of Kurt being subjected to such inhumane treatment brought the taste of bile to Dave's mouth. If eyes could kill, Dave would have slaughtered Blaine Anderson a million times by now.

"Let him go, Anderson," Dave could barely force a voice from his crushed larynx. "It was all me. I was the one who kidnapped him. Kurt's done nothing wrong."

"Oh I'm not so sure about that," Blaine shook his head as if chastising a child. "A little birdie told me that the two of you had quite the fun while on the run."

"No, that's not true," Dave closed his eyes and pleaded. "I forced myself on Kurt. He had nothing to do with this. Let him go."

"Now I really know you are lying," Blaine let out a pleasant laugh.

He took off his glasses and spoke candidly to the man below him, "You just don't get it, Dave. You never understood Kurt. Which is why even though you may have had him, you will never truly possess him."

Blaine cleaned his glasses and returned them to his eyes. He turned around to leave, but sudden paused as if he changed his mind.

Blaine turned to look at Dave one last time.

"Kurt's fine."

Dave was shocked that Blaine would grant him a peace of mind.

"He's asleep in our bed right now, after I fucked his brains out last night. Don't you worry, I am going to take very good care of him."

With that, Blaine left the grave and disappeared from Dave's view.

"Okay guys, let's wrap it up here," Thad's cocky voice could be heard amidst the clamoring of metal and machine. "Remember to pack in the dirt nice and tight."

Waves of soil and gravel crashed onto Dave, crushing him beneath the weight.

Dave looked up at the blue sky one last time.