"Okay, guys. Party's over." Blaine began to shoo everyone out of the basement, where several dismembered, decapitated, and generally mutilated carcasses littered the floor. I sat cross-legged in the center of it all. I'd never felt so alive.
Once everyone had left, Blaine shut the door and walked to my side, squatting next to me and tilting my face upwards for a soft, metallic-twanged kiss. "Good birthday?"
"Great birthday. Thank you, Blaine Warbler." I replied mischievously.
His eyes glinted dangerously. "Kurt, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? Do I need to teach you another lesson?"
"No..." I trailed off softly before yawning. "Mmm... I'm tired."
"I got you," Blaine replied, scooping me into his arms and carrying me up the stairs. He set me on the bed and moved to play a DVD. When the opening credits began to start up as he settled into bed next to me, I giggled.
"Dexter? Really, Blaine? We're watching Dexter, of all things?"
"I figured you were getting tired of Sweeney Todd. I mean, Tim Burton is genius, but the special effects in that movie were fucking terrible. The blood was nowhere near realistic, the camera angles left something to be desired, and the fact that they lived in dirty old London was no excuse for shitty lighting." Blaine stopped his rant, the maniacal light fading somewhat from his eyes. I just laughed again and pulled him closer to snuggle. We disregarded the fact that we were soaked to the bone in the blood of Rachel, Finn, Azimio, Jacob, and countless others that we'd killed tonight. The party had lasted for hours.
"I am getting tired of Sweeney Todd. I mean, there's only so much Johnny Depp autotuning that I can handle."
"Well, I suppose you'll love your next gift then..." Blaine reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of tickets. My jaw dropped.
"Broadway?" I squeaked.
"With Patti LuPone as Mrs. Lovett herself." He grinned cheekily.
"Holy shit, Blaine!" I glomped onto my boyfriend tightly, peppering every inch of skin I could get to with kisses. "I love you so fucking much, you are the best boyfriend ever, you know that?"
"I know." Blaine smirked.
"Shut up. You're supposed to be modest." I smacked his shoulder lightly.
"I'm nothing if not cocky."
"You got that right..." I let my hand trail downwards to squeeze at his crotch.
"Kurt," he growled, low and dangerous at me. "Don't start something you're not ready to finish."
"I fully plan on finishing this, Mr. Anderson." I snarled back, pushing him down on his back and letting my eyes flash fully black with adrenaline.
Blaine's eyes clouded over fully black as well. "Good."
With that, we let our demons run free and rampant.
A/N- 4 millions times apologies for the wait and shortness. But that's it. It's over. Hope you liked the ending and the SerialKiller/Cannibal/Demon!Klaine.
I have a sick and twisted mind for writing this.