Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Marble Hornets/Slenderman

A/N: This story should about 4 or 5 chapters long, and it goes with this gif: ultraily(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/7039775863/smile-for-death. Hope you enjoy!


One

Quinn knows that she should be afraid, maybe even a little nervous, but she isn't. She doesn't feel anxious or even the slightest bit afraid. If anything, she feels completely at ease, peaceful despite the light beginning to disappear overhead. The moment, this moment, has Quinn feeling more free than she's ever felt in her entire life; and it's quite funny how she's not surprised that it's because she's all alone in the abandoned woods behind the cemetery.

Quinn closes her eyes and takes a deep breath; inhaling the unadulterated scent of trees and grass and dirt. It's so pure, and has her feeling so in tune with nature, that it has to be captured. She pulls out her father's ancient Polaroid camera from her purse and snaps two quick photos of the scene. Quinn's never really used an instant-film camera before – she just happened to find the one in her hands inside a box in the corner of her attic – but she knows that the picture will take a while to fully develop so she doesn't bother waiting on it; she begins her long trek home, but not without stopping at the old cemetery to take another picture.

Quinn is halfway between her house and the cemetery before she looks at her last photo. The picture looks oddly romantic from the limited lighting of the moon; the tombstones amazingly clear despite the camera's lack of use. She smiles. Photography could be her thing. She could finally have something to call her own – something that she does for herself and not for her social status.

Over the next few weeks, Quinn would make the twenty minute trip to the old cemetery to walk through the seemingly large forest, but it wasn't until the third week that she discovered an abandoned building.

There are warning bells going off in her head as she approaches the building. She won't enter it, she knows that "curiosity killed the cat," but she's just so intrigued by the massive structure that wants to get a glimpse of it up close.

The decrepit building is made completely out of brick and is three stories high. It has wide openings with metal bars and broken glass for windows, and cracked clay for a roof.

It's dirty and creepy and exactly the kind of building one reads about in horror stories. The kind of building that would have a large sign with the words 'KEEP OUT' written in bold lettering to ward off any passersby. The kind of building that anyone would want to stay away from; that is, unless one was Quinn Fabray.

Quinn was fascinated by the battered beauty of the building. She saw that it had history and she wanted to know all about it, whether it be good or bad. Still, Quinn stopped herself before stepping too close to the building in fear of being bested by her curiosity; the same curiosity that had her surveying the woods and finding old abandoned buildings in the first place.

There was always tomorrow. She could go exploring another day.

Quinn reached into her satchel and pulled out her Nikon F 35mm SLR. Her mother had given it to her the week before after finding out Quinn's interest in photography – it turns out that Judy Fabray holds this common interest with her daughter and was the one who bought Russel the old Polaroid. The Nikon was Judy's old camera, but it was well taken care of despite the lack of use.

Niko, as Quinn had affectionately named her camera, was great. He stuck by her side and helped fill the void of loneliness she was feeling, but as she aimed her camera to snap a photo of the majestic structure, she caught something moving in the corner of her eye – it didn't help that one eye was focused on the view finder – and at that moment even one hundred Nikos wouldn't make her feel any less alone. After Quinn heard the distinct sound of Niko's shutter, she turned on her heel and ran back the way she came. She silently thanked her mom for telling her to wear tennis shoes as she stumbled over a tree root and slid through a wet pile of leaves.

It wasn't until she entered her house, nearly ten minutes later, that the feeling that she was being followed subsided.