A/N: Hello, and welcome to my story. For anyone getting this as an update: I just added this author's note.

This fic features a sort of dystopian society... if you can call it that. Same-sex couples don't exist in this world because the "government" takes away anyone who begins to think that way. Kurt Hummel is taken away one night, only he doesn't know why. This is his story.

There are magical/supernatural elements later on in this fic.

People turn away in disgust, or they simply don't acknowledge it. They know who it carries, but they don't know where it's going. The only people informed of its destination are the one's driving it, and there are stories that those very drivers are killed after so many routes. The people inside don't know what will happen to them, they don't even know what they did wrong. People talk about the detainees in secret, whispering about who it is this time. Only the adults know what it is. Only the adults know what it carries. But every parent shares the same fear: the fear that one of their children might get taken by it one day. They fear that the black van will come in the dead of night and steal away their own flesh and blood.

Kurt Hummel liked looking good. He liked making sure everyone knew he was the most fashionable boy at McKinley. He liked the stares he got when he walked down the halls. The girls and the boys would stare. He simply continued walking though. No one could look as good as him.

Kurt Hummel didn't have a girlfriend. 'None of them were good enough for him' is what he told people when they asked, but really, he just never really had feelings for one. He didn't have feelings for anyone really. He loved himself and his clothes and that was enough.

Oh, and his voice. He loved that too. It was high and angelic; people were moved when he sang.

But then he saw a boy differently for the first time. It was almost as if he was attracted to the boy. Was that possible? Surely not. Not a soul ever walked around with the same gender. It wasn't natural; it was probably just a phase, a trend in his body. Fashion had trends, so why couldn't his body? Right then and there, Kurt made the silent decision to never speak of this little phase of his. Maybe when he woke up the next morning, he'd go back to being completely in love with his reflection.

The bell rang for the end of the day, causing students to rush into the parking lot, desperate to escape the brick walls. Kurt sighed and preformed a strut all the way to his Navigator, just like yesterday, and the day before that… just like he would do every day of high school. The parking lot emptied like a candy jar in a doctor's waiting room, and Kurt rolled out and down to his lovely home he shared with his dad. Cookie-cutter houses passed by him on all sides, telling him that he was quickly approaching his destination. His foot lightly pressed on the brake as the white house came into view.

Home, sweet, home.

It was stupid to be afraid of the dark. Kurt was never afraid before, but there was something different about his basement bedroom this night. He felt almost as if something was there, waiting for him to drift into a peaceful sleep. His hands sweated underneath the heavy comforter as he gripped the edges tightly. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, threatening to impair his hearing. But he was being stupid. Nothing was there, and so he drifted.

A sharp prick, a small pulling, musty air, moving ground.

When he woke up, he definitely wasn't in his bed. He shifted his weight for a few seconds, only to discover he was on a cot. A cot. What. The. Hell. His body shot up so fast that all the blood escaped his brain and he went unconscious again, this time on the filthy floor. His shirt rode up on the left side, and cold metal kissed his pale flesh, burning it like acid. No sooner was he knocked out, that he was awake again. His head pounded from the sudden shift in blood flow, and his nerves took forever to react to the still burning in his side. When he did feel it, he screamed.

No one else was in the moving box he was trapped in. No one could hear him. No one would ever hear him again.

In a few short moments, he was curled on the musty cot, hugging his knees tightly to his chest and wishing this was all a bad dream. He just needed to wake up... soon.

It was hours before the doors opened, and before Kurt could even properly survey the figures in the opening, blinding lights lit up the night. He forced his eyes to close against the harsh brilliance just as the two figures pulled him out of the cold box. They didn't seem to care if they hurt him or not. They all but dragged him to a large gray building with no visible windows. As he surveyed the strange scene, he took note of the towering chain-link fence with spirals of shining barbed wire.

Wherever he was, he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

The sound of sliding doors registered somewhere in his brain and Kurt forced himself to raise his gaze to in front of him. All he could see was a dingy, equally gray room with a petite blonde behind a reception table. She was typing on a holoboard keypad, humming an unfamiliar tune to herself as the two men cleared their throats. Her head snapped up in an instant, her humming lost.


"Hummel, Kurt."

Almost instantly, she was there by Kurt's side. Her white blouse was the brightest thing in the room given her pencil skirt was the same drab gray as the rest of the facility. She brought his chin up with her slender fingers and tutted in disappointment.

"Such a pretty face. A shame he's one of them." Kurt winced as one of the men jerked him away from the woman. "Should I put him in council or go ahead and assign him given the late hour?"

"Assign him."

The holoboard reappeared less than an inch from Kurt's face. He watched as she moved through floor plans and blinking dots before clicking on a red light and entering a 9-digit passcode. Suddenly, the wall behind her desk disappeared, revealing a long courtyard with dogwoods and genetically-altered palm trees that had branches and leaves like a maple tree. There was a fountain in the middle that Kurt noticed was pouring something white and smelled like roses the closer he got. The blonde woman pointed to a black door to the right that had a red light similar to the one from the holoboard on it.

"Room 498-W. The bell for breakfast will be ringing in five hours. You miss breakfast if you sleep past seven, which gives you a two hour window. Goodnight, Mr. Hummel." The door was closed and he was thrown into darkness.

Kurt fell to the carpeted floor, and cried.

Burt didn't have anything other than his son. Kurt was everything to him. He was the reason the man even got out of bed after Elizabeth died. Kurt was his ray of sunshine, his light in the darkness, his only reason to be.

The moment he saw the Heir's red stamp on the basement door, he couldn't stop the familiar pain that shot through his arm and into his chest. He couldn't stop the cry that escaped his lips. He couldn't stop the heart attack. What was the point anyway? Kurt wasn't coming back. He wouldn't be at his bedside willing Burt to wake up this time. Burt would never see his little boy's blue-green eyes or hear his wonderful voice ever again.

Kurt was dead, just like him.

A/N: Reviews are love.