DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, nor am I associated with it or Ryan Murphy. I am just an out-of-college daydreamer who sometimes gets into these writing funks and ends up tossing out a story after letting the idea sit in my brain for a few days! I also don't own any sort of video game I may have mentioned in a later author's note!


By: xSlythStratasfaction

Pairing: Kurt x Blaine

WARNING: If blood and gore and such is not your cup of tea, I would suggest stopping here and going to find something else to read because this fic is about gruesome stuff. There also may be some foul language in here as well, other than the graphic imagery. You have been warned.

A/N: Takes place during the beginning of their senior years of high school (aka Season 3). Kurt is at McKinley and Blaine is still at Dalton.

"Dude, this was such a bad idea."

Finn glanced down at the headless corpse that lay at his feet; he nudged the motionless body with one foot before glancing up at the stunned figure standing before him.

"You okay?"

Kurt nodded, his fingers tightly clutching the pick axe in his hands as he stared at the head that still lolled around in front of him.

"That was Trent."

"Another Warbler?"


Trent was the second undead Warbler that the two brothers had come into contact with whilst roaming the desolate, bloodied halls of Dalton Academy. The first had been Jeff and it had taken all of Kurt's strength to not burst into tears when he swung the tip of his axe into the blonde's skull.

They aren't living anymore. They're just reanimated bodies. The souls have gone elsewhere.

Mercedes' words echoed in Kurt's head as he stopped Trent's rolling head with the tip of his boot. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, trying not to gag on the stale air that reeked of rotting flesh and blood.

"I have to find Blaine," he whispered, opening his eyes and locking his gaze onto Finn. The taller boy was glancing wearily down the hall, on the lookout for any more undead Dalton students.

"You're sure he's still here?"

"Of course I am," Kurt spat, eyes ablaze as he turned on his heel and marched down the hall. Finn stayed close behind. "I spoke to him on the phone a few days ago before the phone lines went down. He's somewhere in this building; he said that if we were going to meet up, he wanted to meet at the place where we very first locked eyes."

"So, the staircase?"


Finn nodded and jumped into step next to his younger brother. They continued down the hall, occasionally stepping over bloody stumps of limbs and other gore. Each step they took led them closer and closer to the staircase that Kurt knew so well. If Blaine was anywhere in the vicinity, he would be there… or at least somewhere close.

Tightening his grip on the axe, Kurt turned towards his brother and stopped. Finn skidded to a halt soon after and raised a brow.


"You need to stay here. Keep guard or something just in case any other infected-"


"-zombies, undead, whatever decide to ambush us. If anything happens, yell for me."

"Will you do the same? Yell for me if anything comes at you…?"

"Of course."

"Then be careful," Finn set his fire axe down against his leg and pulled his shorter bro into a bear hug before letting him go. "I hope you find Blaine… and that he's okay and everything."

Kurt's soft whisper was the only thing Finn heard as the younger boy cautiously sped down the hall and towards the stairwell.

"Me too, Finn. Me too."

There were more gruesome findings in the stairwell.

Kurt could recognize the half-eaten face of Nick leaning up against a wall; his body covered in pustules and bite marks.

"Oh God."

It seemed silly to be muttering such things under his breath, but Kurt couldn't help it. Hell, even when Mercedes tried to calm him down after he took out Frank, one of the guys who worked with his dad at the garage, Kurt still felt the sentiments soothed him. He may have been atheist, but at a time like this, a time where his friends and family were fighting for their lives - he needed the comfort.

He also needed Blaine.

And that's what led him here: to Dalton Academy. He needed to know if Blaine was okay. They only had one previous frantic phone call peppered with 'I love yous' and promises to meet up once the coast was clear. And as just as quickly as it happened, the call ended thanks to the power outages. Nothing more was heard from Blaine Anderson then and Kurt was praying to a God he didn't believe in that everything was going to be alright.

From what he understood, Westerville got hit hard by the virus. Someone picked up a drifter (horror movie cliché, Finn had mentioned once they heard the rumor of how the virus spread) and the person got attacked. He turned, then attacked others, and before anyone could figure out what was going on, reanimated corpses started showing up everywhere, eating everyone in sight.

So far, Kurt had seen the guys in his dad's garage go down from the virus. Burt and Carole were safe, hulled up somewhere in Lima - if they had known that Kurt and Finn went to Westerville to get Blaine, they would've been pissed, but the foursome had been separated after the riots broke out in town.

Rachel and her dads were safe, Quinn and Puck were alright, Brittany and Santana were last known to have been in hiding… Artie had passed. He had been ambushed on his way to class just a week prior by a pack of freshman undead and he was killed instantly. No one knew where Lauren was and Mike and Tina had disappeared not too long after the announcement to go into hiding came out. Mercedes was still safe. She had done her best to try and contact everyone when the first outbreak hit and from what Kurt understood, her family was hiding somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee with Sam's family. As awkward as that was - Kurt remembered their bitter break-up only months before, he knew that both the Jones' and Evans' families were close. Plus, Mercedes' new boyfriend had been killed when he tried to pull Dave Karofsky's zombie-self off of Principal Figgins…

Figgins didn't make it. Neither did many other faculty members. Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury weren't able to avoid the sickness; despite Emma's obsessive cleaning ways, she got sick first (later on, mentioning that she had been bitten while counseling an unruly student) and to the shock of everyone else, Will stayed with her once she turned. He went down with her.

Sue Sylvester, on the other hand, was rumored to be riding around somewhere in northern Ohio in a hijacked tank that she found abandoned at an army barrier. The last anyone saw of her, she was barreling down the streets of Columbus with Becky Jackson and her family in tow.

Other than that, there wasn't anyone else of major importance that Kurt cared to find out about. All he was worried about right now was getting to his boyfriend and making sure said boy was safe. That's what mattered; it was all that mattered.

"Oh Blaine," he whispered quietly, staring down the darkened staircase. "Where are you?"


The groan came from the bottom of the stairs. Kurt's hands shook in fear as he noticed a shadowy figure slowly loom up one step and then the other.

While most of the reanimated dead were slow and dense, some were still able to climb stairs or even run. It had shocked the hell out of Finn when he had to sprint away from a lumbering Azimio after the dead football player leapt up from his spot on the lunchroom floor and barreled towards him. From then on, Kurt and Finn were careful to look out for runners, as rare as they were.



Oh God, please don't let him be hurt, Kurt thought as he reached down to the fanny pack strapped around his hips. It was hands down one of the most unfashionable things he had ever worn, but it was a necessity. In it housed handgun ammo (of which his gun was strapped tightly to his thigh), a flashlight, batteries, and a few other first aid things. Unzipping the pack, Kurt pulled out his tiny flashlight, flicked the switch, and shined it down the stairs.

He wasn't expecting to see the horrifying sight staring up at him…

It was Blaine.

And he was one of them.

"Oh God, Blaine, no. No no no, Blaine. No!"

The blazered boy was dragging himself up the stairs as slow as his crumpled body would take him. His once bright, loving hazel eyes were dim and clouded with death; his jaw was slack, blood, saliva, and what looked like bile ran from his lips and dripped onto the front of his dirty white button down. The area between his thumb and index finger of his right hand was missing, a huge chunk of flesh having had been ripped from him.

That had to have been where the sight of infection was.

Blaine had been bitten.

Blaine was gone.

Blaine was gone.

Tears welled up in Kurt's eyes as he shakily held the flashlight on his boyfriend's sunken face. His skin was paler than normal, bloody cuts decorated the skin of his neck and cheeks. One of his ears was ripped away from his skull and barely hanging on. Just the sight made Kurt lurch. He turned away from the sight of his decomposing lover/best friend and threw up in the corner near to where Nick's corpse lay.

"Oh Blaine, no no no no no."


Blaine was reaching out for him now, his legs still quivering as they struggled to bring him up the steps towards the living, breathing meal that stood before him. Kurt turned back around and wiped the leftover vomit from his lips.

"Why you?"

He stepped closer to where the infected thing that was once so full of life and love stumbled up next to him. The cloudy, unknown eyes stared up at him as another low groan escaped from his lips.

He was almost there. So close.

Tears were streaming down Kurt's cheeks now. He choked back a sob and put his fist in his mouth, trying to stifle the heart wrenching cries that threatened to spill from his lips. He needed to stay quiet. He couldn't alert any other potential undead of his location… even if it was killing him to not cry over what happened to Blaine.

It was only mere seconds from his quieted whimper that the sound of thudding footsteps landed next to him.

"Kurt, are you alright?"

"No," Kurt coughed out. "Blaine… Blaine is-"


Finn picked up Kurt's discarded flashlight and shined it down the stairwell; a gasp leapt from his throat once his sight caught onto the lumbering teen below.

"Oh Blaine, dude…"

"Why, Finn? Why Blaine?"

"I don't know, man. I don't know."

The taller boy reached down and pulled out his handgun from its place against his thigh, only to be roughly shoved away by Kurt.

"What the fuck, dude? I could've accidentally shot you!"

"I need to do this, Finn! I need to do this."

Finn looked down at his younger brother and frowned. He immediately understood Kurt's frantic shove. If anyone was going to kill Blaine, it would have to be Kurt. As tough as that was, there was no other way. Nodding slowly, Finn pulled his brother into a tight one-armed hug and pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead only to be shoved away harshly.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I really am."

"Just go."



Once Finn had left the area, Kurt turned back towards his boyfriend. The other teen had almost climbed the stairs; he was so close that Kurt could smell him. Smell his cologne, smell his hair gel, smell Blaine.

That wasn't the only thing he smelled on his boyfriend though. There was also the smell of rotting flesh, blood, and overall death that emanated off of him that horrified Kurt to no end.

This wasn't Blaine.

Or at least it wasn't anymore.

With one last step, the dark haired boy was now in front of him, hands reaching outward as if to hug Kurt close. Kurt knew better though; this would be no hug, no matter how much he wanted to cradle his boyfriend close and kiss him.

Blaine was gone.

This wasn't Blaine. It was like a mantra that needed repeating. This wasn't Blaine.

With a harsh shove, Kurt slammed all of his strength into his hands as he pushed Blaine's body down the staircase. He waited until the other boy landed with an audible thud on the floor before he raced down after him and straddled his boyfriend's gray slacked thighs.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine."

He leaned down, placing a gentle hand on the motionless chest of the groaning infected beneath him. Through the moonlight that glistened down from the overhead skylight, Kurt could see Blaine's teeth chomping at him, saliva running down the sides of his mouth as he salivated over Kurt's heated flesh.

"I don't want to do this. I love you."


"I love you so, so much."

Tears trickled down his cheeks and fell onto the bloodied blazer beneath his fingers. Everything felt so wrong to him. Almost a year ago, Kurt was reaching the bottom of this very staircase, hand outreached as he tapped a passing boy on the shoulder. Months and months ago, Kurt held hands and ran down these halls and fell in love within these very walls… and now, everything was coming to crash down upon him.

Blaine chomped his jaw once more, once dead eyes now blazing with want as he tried to push himself up off of the floor in order to overpower Kurt.

It was of no use. Kurt was still stronger, though he was unsure of how long he could keep his hold on the writhing body beneath him.

Memories assaulted him from all corners of his mind. Memories of impromptu performances with the Warblers just a few rooms down. Memories of his very first (much wanted) kiss in the lounge just months before.

That's all they would be now… just memories.

Thoughts of a good time so long ago.

And now, Kurt needed to end it all. End the one thing he never planned on ending.

With his free hand, he reached down onto his thigh and unlatched the belt that held his handgun into place. He pulled the weapon up towards Blaine and leaned down, eyes never leaving the once beautiful face of the man he loved more than life itself.

"I love you so much, Blaine. I always will; I promise." He choked back a sob as he pressed the handgun to his boyfriend's skull and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the boy's matted down locks. "I'll never say goodbye to you."

And in that dark, desolate stairwell - the place that started it all and would now be the end of everything, Kurt Hummel pulled the trigger.

A/N: I don't usually do fics like this. I've read a few zombie fics where Kurt and Blaine were fighting zombies, but I haven't read one where one of them is one (and if there are any out there that you can think of, let me know… I want to read them). Anyways, this idea wouldn't leave my head. I tried to get it to go away, but it wouldn't – so, I wrote it. Sad thing is, I wrote it while listening to Christmas music. Does that make any sense? Hahahaha! Anyways, blame my crazy love for everything zombie (or you could blame my brother for just purchasing Dead Island and making me want to play some Resident Evil or Left 4 Dead). What can I say? I love me some zombies. This was inspired by the lovely zombie Klaine fanart done by ssimilee on Tumblr!