Title: Monsters Do Exist

Summary: "He knows he will leave bruising and scars that will never EVER fade. He knows he's screwing this boy up... just like Kurt Hummel screwed him up." For Necrofeeliak.

Rating: M because uhm, have you read Necrofeeliak's story? This is not a place for children... this is sick and disgusting. Trust me.

A/N: This is for Necrofeeliak's story Victim's Don't Tell. This is the Sister-Fic for that story. He insisted I posted this so here I am. He's completely awesome in every way and incredibly talented. I am truly honored to be friends with him, and if you haven't read his story go check it out... now. Even if this is sick I take pride in my writing... a true writer writes what he/she feels. No matter the subject matter.

Monsters Do Exist:

Here's how I see it. We have Kurt Hummel. Not really hurting anyone... not bothering the status quo... much. And then there's Dave Karofsky... and Kurt can just crawl up under his skin, protruding grotesquely from his body, changing everything that boy ever knew. And that's when Dave Karofsky stops being a boy... and he becomes a man. A cruel, vicious, and austere man. A monster. Monsters do exist. And what a nasty creepy crawly monster he is? He likes to hide under little boy's beds. But his favorite little boy is Kurt.

Everything Dave ever knew was twisted... things changed so he adapted, changed himself. Evolved who he was to someone that could survive. Darwin's Law after all. He pictured himself making the small boy squirm. Calling out cruel words, and endearments in between, just to fuck with him even more.

Calling him baby... and then telling him what a fucking little slut he was. Scratching his body to shreds... leaving marks he knows the boy's going to have to hide. He knows he will leave bruising and scars that will never EVER fade. He knows he's screwing this boy up... just like Kurt Hummel screwed him up.

But an eye for an eye right?

Right.

Because that's the way the world works. But the real world doesn't exist here... just a small game between victim and abuser. A game where there are only two players and no clear winners... because in the end, Dave's going to end up just as fucked up as the boy he'll place six-feet-under.

But not before he gets to play a little first. Like they say: you're going to hell, but you had fun getting there.

He teases him at first, the boy that looks so frightened with his eyes blown wide and tears and semen covering beautiful cheekbones. He has him scared stiff. But it's like slowly poisoning someone. Drop by drop... just to watch them suffer... see watch them squirm. It's fucking delicious.

The pleasure of sinking deep into the boy's mouth is suffocating, swelling his cock to a ridiculous size. Making him drink it... like he would his morning tea. And when you finally take him away... from the distractions from his friends and family, you can feed him anything you want every goddamn day. Whether it's your hot cum or steamy piss. You're going to degrade him, make him less than human. Because that's what you are...

And just when he's about to die... you're going to truly claim his virginity. You're going to get him hard and you're not going to prepare him... you want how tight he's going to be to be a surprise. Like opening a present on your birthday. And hey! He's in his b-day suite; skin all wrapped up tight around your cock.

The prefect present. He's going to scream as you try to fight your cock into his hole, but it will slip away... he's too tight. You know you'll split him in half. He'll tear so badly you'll have to administer the stitches in his anus yourself... so you can continue your fun. But that's after you fuck the life out of him. After his soul is gone and his face is a mask of death.

And when you've finally used him... milked him for all he's worth... just like your cock. You'll get bored and have to get rid of him.

Maybe he'll make it easy... maybe he'll kill himself, you just need a few encouraging words and he'll jump right over the edge. Maybe you'll never get bored, maybe you can keep him locked up in your basement forever, your dead little fuck toy. Maybe you'll kill him.

But that's a lot of Maybe's. You can't bank on 'maybe's'. But you know what you CAN bank on? You can bank on the fact that Kurt Elisabeth Hummel will be violated in more ways than one by the end of the night... stuck, pinned like a butterfly flailing and dying before hung up and framed like a deadly work of art.

P.S. This was for you Necrofeeliak. And for me. For us. You know what I mean when I say that. There are dark things... and some people never truly seem the darker side. But some do. Just a little insight into the deepest parts of a lost soul.