Hey guys! I haven't given up on you my awesome readers! You are now about to read the first book in a series of 4 fanfiction novels about night chaser Rachel Berry! This is very exciting stuff and it slightly inspired by one of my favourite series, "The Mortal Instruments". Enjoy the first installment, and remember to check back for the sequel called "Creatures of the Underworld!"

Creatures of the Nightmares

i.

She remembers the way they stared at her as she walked on stage for the first time, the audience's eyes squinting to get a better look at the young girl attempting to showcase her talent. She remembers the adrenaline running through her as she opened her mouth, the first round of lyrics pouring through like a waterfall, effortless and beautiful. She remembers the way they applauded her, standing up and watching in glee as she finishes, her eyes teary with joy.

This time, although, as she walks in front of the crowd, her black dress flowing at her knees, her hair pulled into a tight bun, she feels quite different. Replacing shocked faces of excitement are grim expressions, some even crying. She doesn't feel adrenaline, but despair, so tight her throat knots into various tangles she can't seem to release. She stares out into the people surrounding her, waiting for her to speak.

Rachel wets her lips. "When I was eleven, I remember my parents telling me a story of the time I first met my brother. I was only a couple hours old, maybe six, still pink from birth and tired from crying. My brother was three, just as troublesome and reckless. My mother was worried that he was going to scare me so she made sure I was asleep when they first introduced us. He walked into the room, in his sneakers and baseball hat, and saw me, for the first time . . . "

Her eyes begin to prickle and she sees other people gasping for air as they let out sobs they've been holding in their chest. She breathes heavily, closing her eyes as she continues. "You see, I'm a very light sleeper, so when he ran up to my ear and screamed, 'Hi Rachel!' I immediately woke up crying," she lets out a chuckle, despite herself, "and my mother says, 'darling, you scared her.' He looks up wide-eyed, oblivious to how loud he was. 'Can I see her mommy?' he asked, and when she held me to him and whispered, 'that's your little sister,' he immediately smiled and whispered, 'Hi little sister, I'm Puck and I'm your big brother. Sorry for scaring you, it'll never happen again. I won't let anyone scare you or hurt you again, okay?'

A series of actions move throughout the crowd, women leaning on their boyfriends shoulder for support, men pretending to be more interested in the sky to hide the fact that they're crying. She feels the tears tickle down her face but she doesn't wipe them, she lets them fall in silence. "And although he isn't here anymore, I know for a fact that he keeps that promise. That he is my guardian angel, shining down on me, making sure that I am safe and protected." Rachel looks up, smiling a bit at the sun.

"Rest in peace, big brother."

ii.

"Sorry for your loss."

Rachel lets the person reach for her hand and shake it lightly in her grasp. She nods, trying to give some response that she's thankful for them coming to the funeral but her lips don't move, her mouth and throat hoarse.

She looks beside her at her mother and father, features set in sadness as they accept the people's sympathy for the death of their son. Her mother, dressed in black, shines with the light red of her hair, falling down around her shoulders as her father stands strong despite the longing in his expression, desperate to leave any reminders of the son they once had.

"Sorry for your loss."

Rachel turns to see the next person offering their gratitude, surprised to see a man she doesn't know, his tall frame looming over her. His hair ruffles lightly as a soft breeze passes by, air tugging at the tux that fits his muscular body. He slides his fingers between hers, his brown eyes focused on her as he shakes their joint hands. He watches her intently as he speaks again, his voice soft and creamy, "your brother was a great man."

Her eyebrows arch in confusion, but before she can say anything he quickly turns his head to the left, in the direction of her parents. She twists her neck back to face them, watching as they nod at him, their eyes suddenly cold and focused on the mysterious man.

Rachel's gaze falls on their linked hands, catching the tattoo that rests on his wrist. It looks almost burned onto him, the ink a dark line of dried skin. A circle inside a circle.

His soft hand falls from her grasp and she looks back at him, startled. He offers her a small smile before he turns away, leaving the small ceremony with a sense that Rachel didn't expect to feel - adrenaline.

iii.

Her hand comes up to caress the glass blocking her from touching her brother's face, her fingers skimming over the picture frame. She smiles tearfully at it, her eyes still puffy from a day of crying and sleep. She remembers the day perfectly, the way Puck stuck out his tongue before their parents snapped the shot, complaining that he didn't want to touch her. He was seven years old.

Rachel rests the picture frame back on her night stand, tying her hair back in a pony tail to clear her face. She removes herself from the bed that she's spent days inhabiting, her feet aching as she steps on them. Pain just seems to be so friendly in the Schuester household.

She ruffles through her closet to find an outfit she could wear for the last day of school tomorrow. Even though her brother only died three weeks ago, she promised herself she wouldn't miss the last day of being a kid, last day of being able to break rules and only have to deal with teachers and principles. She knows her brother would be pissed if she missed her last day of high school, so she pushed herself to go, not just for her, but for her brother.

Puck.

God, does she miss him.

Sometimes when everyones asleep, she'll think she hears the front door open and Puck will walk up the stairs, apologizing for waking her up. It's not that she's crazy, her parents have been acting paranoid ever since he died, extra cautious of Rachel, even if she's going out to buy milk. It feels like they more about his death than she does, like there was something else that happened that she isn't aware of.

Maybe it has something to do with that mystery man at the funeral.

The black hair and suit, the way he looked at her parents as if they were on the same team . . .

A noise catches her attention, and she's suddenly aware of her parents downstairs in the kitchen, whispering frantically. She steps away from the closet and tiptoes towards the door, pressing her ear against it.

"We need to move," her mother hisses, and she can hear the panic in her voice, "they'll figure it out and they'll come after her. And as soon as they find out we've been raising her all this time they'll - "

Rachel opens the door quietly and steps out, walking towards the staircase that leads downstairs. She hovers over the railing, her hands gripping the metal as she continues to eavesdrop. "We'll figure something out, okay Emma?" her father whispers, "we have an escape plan. Everything will be okay, Finn will - "

"Finn is still a kid. We can't expect him to protect - "

Rachel steps closer, her eyes squinting in embarrassment as the floor boards creak beneath her. Her mothers voice fades into silence, and she can already feel them breathing down her neck. "Rachel? Are you there?"

She doesn't answer, only backs away in shock to her bedroom, more confused than ever.

iv.

"One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi . . ."

Rachel laughs as she hears her brother counting, her pink dress flowing around her chunky ankles. She smiles toothlessly as she backs away from him standing at the wall, his hands covering his eyes. Her hands waver as she struggles to find a good hiding place, checking rooms and cabinets possible to fit in.

"Rachel . . . "

Her name hisses throughout the quiet house, echoing off the walls. She looks up, expecting to see her brother but the room is still. She twirls around. Nothing. "Mommy?" she whispers, clutching hopelessly at her Dora doll.

"Rachel . . . "

She hears a shudder coming from a kitchen cabinet, and she turns towards it, sees it glowing with red, like the colour of blood. She tiptoes towards it, her body turning cold the closer she gets. It calls out her name once more and she reaches the handle, pulls it open . . .

She catches a flash of hell before it attacks.

She gasps out, her breathing labored and heavy as she tries to catch it. Her eyes squint in the darkness, trying to adjust to the night covering her bedroom. She blinks repeatedly, her hands feeling her body for any signs that it was just a nightmare.

Rachel rolls over in her bed, stuffing her face in her pillow and crying out. The terror and feeling of the dream so real it sends shivers throughout her body. She winces slightly as a slight burn prickles the skin of her wrist. Evening her breathing, she lifts it to her face in the darkness, eyes narrowing as it begins to build into a deeper pain.

She notices nothing different about her wrist, and the pain suddenly subsides.

v.

Rachel tries to ignore everyone staring at her as she walks down the hallways on her last day of school, tries to pretend the only reason they're staring at her is because she's wearing jeans instead of a dress. She hides her blush behind her cascaded hair, not wanting to deal with the entire student body and how they're oh so sorry her big brother died.

"I'm really glad you came today," Quinn tells her as she walks Rachel to first period, "this is a big milestone in your life."

Rachel tries to smile, failing miserably. "I know Puck would have wanted me to come, just because he's not here doesn't mean I can't disappoint him." A comforting hand rests on her shoulder as she walks, and Rachel turns to see a person she doesn't know, attempting to give condolences she doesn't mean.

Quinn shrugs. "Everyone will be really glad to see you. Just think of it like this, you're only a couple hours away from the best feeling in your life." She waves off a student walking toward them, shaking her head.

Rachel is genuinely interested. "What's that?"

She smiles, her pearly white teeth shinning like a hot day in July. She looks at her with blue piercing eyes.

"Freedom."

vi.

She can already hear the whispers of shock as she walks into first period, her book clung desperately to her chest. As if on cue, everyone in class turns to face her, including her teacher, Mr. Ross. She silently gives her book to him, never wanting to read a single sentence from The Great Gatsby ever again in her life.

"Nice to see you Rachel," he tells her, giving a reassuring smile. She returns it, her head downcast as she makes her way to her desk in the middle of the room. She hears the hush of murmurs as she passes, "that's Puck's sister," "hey didn't her brother just die?", "is she wearing jeans?"

She sits herself down in the familiar seat, arms outstretched on the table in front of her. Her cheeks redden as more students begin to take notice in her, eyes wide and eager for any sign of a breakdown.

Mr. Ross notices the tension in the room and stands from his desk. "Alright, well, there isn't much left to say but good luck on you guys and your future. I really did enjoy this semester with you all, and it was such an amazing - "

A searing pain runs up the palm of her hand to her wrist, burning the skin like an internal flame. She gasps out, her hand clamping on the hot flesh, the pain a familiar sensation she experienced last night. She feels her skin boil under her fingers but she refuses to look, refuses to show any more weakness in front of her classmates. She can already sense everybody's eyes on her, but she pretends nothing is wrong, trying to ignore the searing discomfort in her wrist.

"Rachel?" Mr. Ross stares at her in confusion, as does the rest of the class, "is everything alright?"

She tries her hardest to stay calm, though finds herself jumping from her seat and out of the class room.

vii.

The first thing Rachel does when she gets to the washroom is look at her wrist.

She freezes.

It's the same tattoo the man from the funeral wore on his wrist, the one that looked like dried skin lining the ink. A circle rests on her red skin, though it's just one, not two circles that the man had in the graveyard. Her eyes blink back the tears that fight to escape, the burning sensation still lingering through her veins.

She moves over to the sink, dapping her thumb with water and presses it roughly against the circle. She rubs frantically, trying to remove any linings of the circle from her skin. It doesn't work.

"Come on," she hisses under her breath, sliding her fingers against her skin so quickly it creates a red rash painting the flesh. She gasps out in frustration, the burning still as real and heated as a real fire. Her eyes close as her head begins to buzz with warning, pounding along with the blood in her veins.

Her hands grip the edges of the sink, head bowed down as she tries to regain her strength. She feels her body sway in expectation, waiting for the moment she gives up and faints. Her fingers come up to run under the water from the sink, splashing her face with a revival of energy. She slaps her cheeks, giving pain to her other body parts to distract herself from the one pain she cannot seem to stop.

"Keep it together, Rachel," she whispers, pinching the skin on her face, "don't black out."

She removes her hands from her face, blinking repeatedly to keep herself focused. Her hair whips back as she snaps her head up, her face visible in the mirror in front of her -

A high pitched scream tears from her throat as she sees something else in the mirror. A person or a thing she doesn't know. It's body is crumpled in various ways it looks as if every bone in its body is broken. Its skin as black as night, eyes a slit opening of yellow as it stares beadily at her. Its tongue slides across its teeth, red and bloody, stained with hunger . . .

"Rachel?"

She turns around, expecting to see the creature standing behind though is faced with a young girl, Anna, from her English class. She doesn't even notice her rapid heart beat until Anna stares at her chest, rising up with every quick breath she takes. Rachel's hand rests on her heart, trying to steady it as she catches her breath.

"Rachel, are you okay?"

She gaps, hands shaking as she tries to answer. Before she does she notices the pain in her wrist is gone, and when she stares down at it, so is the circle. Both of them gone, just like that.

Just like the creature in the mirror.

Anna whispers her name once more, a warning sigh, but Rachel doesn't have time to answer as she already's out of the washroom, leaving the school with being known as the biggest freak that ever stepped foot in McKinley High.

viii.

The air is cold as she walks along Main, her arms wrapping around her body in an attempt to create some source of warmth. She can already feel the damaged skin of her wrist starting to peel, the heat leaving her flesh like throwing water on a fire. Her eyes prickle with tears with the remembrance of the days event, even though it's only eleven in the morning.

Rachel knows theres more to the symbol on her wrist than pain and insanity, more to the creature she saw in the reflection of the mirror. So cold and dark, so life sucking . . .

Her fingers rub along her bare arms as she turns into the alley that leads her straight home. When she was younger, she was always afraid to walk down it alone, so Puck would have to come with her even if he had football practice. She hasn't been afraid since he died, though something about the lack of light seems to send tense nerves through her body.

She tries to ignore the feeling that something is wrong, tries to ignore the prickling in her wrist, tries to ignore the fact that she just might be going crazy, or even worse, paranoid.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

Rachel turns to look beside her, immediately being faced with an odd-looking man staring at her from across the alley. His hair is stiff with grease, clothes ragged as if he's been wearing them for weeks. A level of fear rises in her chest, heavy on her heart, and she quickly responds as he begins to walk towards her. "I'm sorry sir, but I really must be heading home . . . "

"You look so familiar," he seethes, his teeth yellow with beer, "like a photo I've once seen."

Rachel tries to smile, ease herself away. She shrugs at him. "I'm sorry," she tells him, but she really doesn't know what she's apologizing for. Maybe she feels grateful because he hasn't jumped her yet, or asked her for her wallet. She gives him one last look and turns on her heels, twirling back to -

His hand grasps at her wrist, and it electrifies the buried pain of the burning circle. She cries out in pain, struggling to rip it from his hold. "Sir - "

He lets out a happy chuckle. "You're Rachel Berry," he cries out in excitement, "you're Puck's sister, aren't you?"

Rachel Berry? Why does he think her name is Rachel Berry? She hasn't been any one but Rachel Schuester her whole life. Shaking her head in disagreement, she finally removes herself from his uncomfortable grip, walking past him without another word.

He's faster than she thought. His hands come up to place on her chest as he pushes her back, the force so unexpectedly strong she falls backwards onto the ground. Her head cracks against the cement, her vision blurring as he hovers over her . . .

"Say hello to your brother."

A flash of movement echoes off the shadows before the man on top of her is whipped to the ground by an incredible force. She hears his fall, though her eyes are too slow to adjust to the fast actions as she hears grunting and flesh against flesh, heads cracking on bricks.

Rachel tries to sit up, because she doesn't know if her hero is winning or loosing, but the pain in her head causes her to fall back against the ground. She coughs up, trying to release some tension from her mind. Her eyes flutter close and there's a silence, no more punching, no more yelps of pain. She feels someone hovering over her again, but she's afraid to open her eyes, see if its someone she wants to see or is too afraid to look at.

"Rachel?"

The softness in his voice makes her feel safe, and her eyes snap open. She tries to adjust to the way his head is bent over hers, the paleness of his skin, the freckles surrounding his nose. Her eyes begin to focus, and she blinks a couple times before she sees clear whats in front of her.

The man from the funeral.

Her mouth is dry with shock, or blood, she isn't quite sure. She stares up at him in awe, noticing not a single dab of blood or bruise from the man he just rescued her from. "Are you hurt?" he breathes out, "is it okay to lift your head?"

When she nods, his hands cradle the back of her head, his fingers lost in the locks of her brown hair. He brings her upwards into a sitting position, and she immediately misses the contact as he puts his hands at his side. His eyes are hard on her, concerned and worried drawn tightly into his expression. "Are you alright?"

"You're him," she whispers out, her lips cracking.

His eyebrows arch upwards. "Excuse me?"

"The guy from the funeral," she explains, "with the tattoo on your wrist."

He stares at her for a long moment before he turns away, as if someone called his name. What is his name anyways? "Come on, lets get you out of here" He leans forward and hooks his hands underneath her arms, lifting her up swiftly. She feels a jolt of energy the minute she stands, the pain suddenly easing into the back of her mind. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to rid of the rest of the tension in her skull.

When she opens her eyes, he's staring at her with slight amusement on his face. "So," he looks down, "do you mind if I walk you home?"

ix.

"Thank you," she tells him as they begin to walk back the short distance to her house, "for saving me back there. I don't think I would have been able to do anything myself."

He offers her a small smile, his hands shoved casually in his pockets. She can see the tattoo on his wrist from where she walks beside him. "It's no problem, I wasn't going to let him hurt you." A tinge of fierce protectiveness flashes in his eyes, and she's reminded of the way her brother looked when she got a new boyfriend or went out to parties.

She bites on her lip at the familiar expression. "So what's your name?" she asks. He looks at her, actually debating on whether to tell his name or not. He sighs and his gaze falls on his shoes. "Finn," he says.

Rachel grins. She thinks the name fits him. "Oh, well I'm Rachel."

He lets out a chuckle. "I know." Oh yeah, he was saying her name in the alley, wasn't he? How did he know her name? She looks at him, she's never seen him in her life. She has no connection to him except for the fact that he was at her brother's funeral.

"How did you know my brother?"

The question catches him off guard, and his expression instantly turns blank, like a poker face. Finn opens his mouth to speak then closes it again, hesitant to say anything. His cheeks redden as he racks at his brain for an answer. She notices the way his eyebrows narrow tightly, almost as if he has to choke the word out. He stops suddenly, and gestures to the house in front of them. "Is this your house?"

Rachel turns to where he's pointing to, her eyes wide in surprise. "Yeah, how did you know where I lived?"

He shrugs. "Lucky guess."

Finn is insistent on walking her to her door, even with the fact knowing that her parents will answer it and ask tons of questions. She sighs as she knocks on the wood, already hearing the scratch of chairs as someone leaves the kitchen table. Her hands clench worriedly at her sides, knowing that after what happened with Puck, they'll surely freak out about this.

Her mother and father both answer the door, eyes worried on Rachel then they're suddenly drawn to Finn. Both of them widen in surprise as they look at him, but Finn doesn't flinch, doesn't even seem to notice. He casts a look quickly at Rachel then back to her parents. "Rachel ran into a little trouble in the alley, but I took care of it."

A hand flies to her mother's mouth, her body trembling violently. She turns to Rachel, staring with red eyes about to release some tears. Rachel tries to smile at her mother reassuringly. "It's okay mom, nothing happened, I - "

"Rachel, why don't you come inside." It's her father, tone strong and calm. She doesn't even have time to move before her father reaches out and grabs her by the hand, pulling her in. He looks down at her, and she can see the cracks in his hard expression, the worried lines about to break.

He turns back to Finn. "Thank you," he whispers, and he closes the door. Finn nods in response, and she notices his gaze fall back on hers before the door closes completely.

x.

Her parents were quiet as they ate dinner, none of them mentioning what happened in the alley or asking what the man looked like so they could report to the police. They sat side by side, barely looking at Rachel as they silently ate their mashed potatoes. It wasn't long before Rachel became fed up with the mood and quickly dismissed herself.

She lay on her bed, facing the ceiling and imaging she was looking at the stars. When she was younger, her mother told her that after someone dies, they become a star in the sky. She wonders if Puck is up there, looking down and worrying about who the next guy will be to attack her.

Rachel tries not to remember it, the way he looked at her in a familiar way, how he knew her name.

Well, the first half of her name anyways.

Rachel Berry, that's what he called her. She shouldn't think too much about it, he was probably crazy, she could tell by the look in his eyes when he attacked her, yellow with a tinge of evil, just like the creature she saw in the bathroom.

She's pretty sure he would have hurt her if it weren't for Finn, who just so happened to be there. She frowns, thinking about all the events that happened today, and trying to put them together. There was the burning, the circle on her wrist, the creature in the mirror, the man who attacked, and then Finn. Finn just magically shows up. She chews on her bottom lip, thinking of the way her parents looked at him, as if he was an occasional visitor.

A knock on her door interrupts her thoughts, and slightly twists her head to look at it. "Come in," she calls out, and she can tell by the hesitant opening of the door that it's her mother. She walks in thoughtfully, her red hair pulled into a pony tail. She doesn't try to smile, and comes over to sit on the edge of her mattress. Rachel sits up to look at her.

"How are you doing, Rachel?" she asks, voice small and thick. She lays a hand on her knee, the motherly comfort possessing her.

Rachel looks down. "I'm okay," she whispers, and then adds, "you know you don't have to lie to me anymore, right? I'm eighteen, I've graduated from high school. I can handle big girl problems. You can tell me what's really going on, can't you?"

Her mother bites on her bottom lip. She removes her hand from her knee and places it back in her lap, staring at the wall. "You might be an adult now but you are still young, you might not understand the things you see but you look at them anyway. I don't expect you to believe me when I say that everything is going to be okay. But you'll thank me one day for keeping you in the dark . . . or at least trying to." She plays with the fingers of her hands. "If anything happens in the next couple of weeks, just know that you're father and I are trying to protect you, alright?"

Rachel sighs, checking off another thing she'll have to worry about.

xi.

It doesn't take long before she realizes she won't be able to sleep tonight.

Rachel discards the blankets from her body, jumping form her bed and leaving her bedroom without a thought of returning to it. She pulls her sweater more tightly around her, her sweat pants making noise as she walks down the stairs. She can already smell the leftover chicken as she enters the kitchen, rubbing her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Her hand grips the edge of the fridge door as she opens it, her eyes scanning for the milk carton. She sighs in frustration, checking behind eggs and pop cans to find it. Her search momentarily pauses as she hears a slight cricket from outside, a chattering of teeth. She leans back from the fridge, looking at the nearest window in the kitchen, seeing nothing but trees and dark sky.

Rachel ignores the fear in her body as she closes the fridge, forgetting about milk and sleep and worry. The noise begins to build, scratches against the window and walls, hands clawing at anything audible. She tiptoes closer to the window, her socks swift against the floorboards as she begins to close the distance between her and the noise.

She gasps, feeling the familiar burn in her wrist. She stops walking completely, and the noise subsides, leaving the room instantly dark and quiet. Her eyes blink in confusion as she lifts her arm in front of her, seeing the same circle imprinted on her skin, though instead of one circle, it's two. One circle inside another circle, just like the one on Finn's wrist. Her eyes squint in the darkness, startled. "What the - "

Glass shatters in a roar as the nearing window bursts, the noise a deafening and hallow explosion. Rachel screams, her arms coming up to cover her face as she pushes herself to the floor, broken glass falling around her. She cries out as they pierce her skin, blood prickling from where they cut. She breathes into her hands, feeling the remainder of the glass break against the floorboards as it stops, leaving the room in a silent mess. She shakes the glass from her hair as she lifts her head to the darkness.

Her heart stops.

In front of her is the creature. She doesn't know if its the same one from the bathroom or not but it looks just as hungry and lifeless. It's yellow eyes shine in the night, it's teeth clattering together in the familiar cricket noise. It bends towards her, it's body breaking as it approaches her like a nightmare. Rachel crawls on the floor, facing the creature with a look of utter terror. Her hands press into broken class as she moves, sending blood splattering against the kitchen floor. She swallows thickly, building a scream ready to call for help when -

A blade as long as a sword drives through the middle of the creature's body, slick and sharp. The creature releases a screeching sound as it compulsives, black goo coming from its wound as the yellow leaves its eyes. Rachel gasps out a breath, trying to even her beating heart as she looks up at the person holding the weapon . . .

"Dad," she whispers as she sees him in front of her, the blade glued to his hand. Her eyes widen in astonishment and she's suddenly more concerned with the fact that her father just killed a soul-sucking creature than the fact that she almost just died. Again. He doesn't look proud though, only scared, but not for him. He looks around the kitchen, see's more creatures crawling from the window. "Rachel," he hisses, the blade shinning in his hand, "lock yourself in the bedroom and do not come out under any circumstances."

Rachel stares in bewilderment, fear returning as she looks at the oncoming creatures. She gulps loudly, refusing to look into their beady, yellow eyes.

"Rachel!" her father screams, more urgent than she's ever heard him, "now!"

She gets up from her spot on the ground, glass sticking to her body as she rushes out of the room. Her socks slide across the floorboards easily, and she grips onto the railing of the staircase for support. Another window breaks from inside the house, but she doesn't look for it, doesn't have time to look anywhere but the stairs as she runs up them two at a time.

She eventually reaches the top of the stairs and ushers into her bedroom, closing it with a slam. She can hear the crickets surrounding her, the noise of her father's blade cutting through them. Her fingers shake as she struggles to lock the door, her hands slippery with blood. Her eyes scan the room, looking for anything to protect herself with.

Rachel doesn't have time to search as her bedroom door flies open with a clatter, sending her falling against her nightstand. She cries out in pain as her head connects with the wood, sharp edges digging into the skin of her skull. Tears prickle at her eyes and she has to blink them away in order to see the creature in front of her, teeth clicking together.

It jumps on top of her, claws piercing through her skin as it pushes her into the ground. Rachel screams as it digs the wood of the nightstand deeper into her skull, blurring her vision. She wills herself to stay conscious, and she wonders if this is how Puck felt before he died, so cold and scared and alone. The thought brings an unbearable strength to her and she reaches her hand on the surface of the nightstand, knocking objects over until she grips a metallic stand. The creatures hisses on top of her, its tongue clipping out with blood.

She brings the lamp in her hand down on its head, smashing it to the ground beside her. The creature releases another hissing sound as Rachel kicks it off, pulling the remaining limbs off of her as she crawls into a standing position. She can already hear it forming together again and she races to her window, fingers gripping the edge as she pushes it open.

A cold amount of wind hits her face like ice. Rachel takes another look at the creature on the floor before she throws herself over the ledge and lands on the tiles of the roof. She slides slightly, catching onto the ledge with her hands. She looks out at the open sky, breathing in the open air, "Somebody - "

The creatures attacks her before she can finish her plea for help, forcing her to hit the surface of the roof. Her body rolls down the heap, hitting misplaced tiles and rocks along the way. She tries to stop herself as she sees the edge of the roof getting closer but her body aches and she feels tired and sore. She closes her eyes as her body soars off the roof, her hand clenching at the ledge, allowing her to hang, her legs dangling in the air.

Fear freezes her lungs as she looks below her at the ground, surely able to break her legs if she tries to jump. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing to hold on longer, wait for someone to help. She can hear the clatter of teeth as the demon approaches again, ready to defeat her for the final time.

A hand grips the bloody skin of her wrist, surprising Rachel and awakening hope inside her. Her eyes snap open, allowing the person holding her to pull her upwards, ignoring the pain it causes as her body scrapes against the roof. The hands toss her onto the roof, and she wipes the wetness under her cheeks as she feels the surface beneath her. She sees a familiar patch of brown hair and freckles. She looks up.

"Finn," she breathes out in shock, "What - "

The creature screeches from where it rests on the top of the roof, staring down at them with the yellow eyes. Finn swears under his breath and beckons it forward, taunting the creature with just two fingers. He pulls the blade she saw her father use from a pouch at his waist, facing the demon without any trace of fear. It surges towards them, fangs ready and thirsty as it leaps.

Finn effortlessly sends the blade through its skull, putting it to rest in a final daze. Rachel gasps as black goo pours from its wound like the one in the kitchen. A small cry escapes her throat in confusion of what's going on around her, and she finally feels pain catch up with her.

"What's going on?" she whispers, looking at the blood stains on her skin. Her mind tries to wrap around what just happened but she can't seem to focus with Finn holding her arm.

He looks at her. "We're going to have to jump," he tells her. She shakes her head in refusal but he doesn't listen because he gathers her in his arms and leaps from the rooftop.

xii.

She feels Finns feet slam harshly against the ground as she falls out of his arms, rolling over in the grass. She coughs out as she tries to suck in a breath, her chest heaving in shallow air. She looks up at the rooftop, sees the body of the creature crumpled against the tiles.

Finn reaches for her. "We have to move," he says, grabbing her hand and pulling her upwards beside him. He begins to pull her forward but she gapes at him, staring at the blood stained windows of her house. Her eyes begin to water. "My parents - "

"Rachel, come on."

He drags her with him as they run from her house, and she reluctantly allows him to lead her away. She thinks of her mother and father, the creatures that haunt the walls inside. She thinks of how fragile her mother is, how scared she must be.

"Do you mind telling me what's going - "

A creature appears in front of them and Finn doesn't hesitate as he brings out his blade and pushes Rachel to the side. He plunges the blade forward but the creature is fast and moves to the side, sticking its tongue out. She watches as Finn bends forward and slides along the ground until he's looking up at the creature and surges the blade up, decapitating its head in the process.

Her mouth opens in shock as the head rolls to the ground, its body dropping to the concrete. Finn breathes out, wiping the black from his blade as he looks up at her. His eyes suddenly widen.

"Rachel - "

She doesn't hear what he has to say because a sharp pain shoots up her neck, and she falls into darkness.

xiii.

She's awake before she can open her eyes. Her mouth drops to release a deep breath, and she tastes the prickle of blood against her tongue, splashing her with memories of what happened. Her eyes snap open, and she finds herself in a white room she's never been in before. Her eyes follow the trail of wires that cross her body, and she's suddenly aware of how sore she is.

Rachel notices the blood stains on her clothes and skin, gashes and wounds opening flesh. She lifts her wrist slightly above the mattress, and she sees that the two circles are still on her wrist, though not burning. Her mind begins to buzz with flashes of the creature on the rooftop, Finn effortlessly killing it and how it oozed with black blood. Her eyes widen as she feels the anxiety take over, and she sits upright -

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

A searing pain rides up her body to her head, exploding into all the senses of her brain. She gasps out in pain, falling back against the pillows as she holds her temples with the tips of her fingers. Her teeth clench together as the momentary injury passes, leaving her dazed and disorientated. Her gaze falls on a boy sitting across from her, his legs crossed and hair combed to the side. He looks at her, amused.

"Told you," he whispers, eyes darting to the ceiling. Rachel crunches in confusion, not knowing if she was in a hospital room or a mental patient room. She wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter. "I'm Blaine by the way."

Blaine. She's never heard that name before. But come to think of it, she's never seen a blood-sucking creature or blades as swift as swords before either. She nods in response. "Blaine," she says, tasting the word for the first time, "what's going on?"

He sighs. "I know you're confused, but I can't explain everything right now. It'll hurt your head. All I can tell you is that those things you saw last night, the ones that tried to kill you, they aren't from this world. They're demons."

Rachel visibly balks. She thinks of the fangs, the claws and scaled skin. "Demons?" She wants to vomit.

Blaine nods. "They're from the Underworld. Finn was bringing you here when a Caden demon jumped you from behind and hit your head, that's why you blacked out. He had to carry you the whole way back and - "

"Finn," she breathes out, "is he okay? Where is he?"

Blaine stands up and smiles. He gestures to the door. "Let me show you."

xiv.

"This place, Rachel, is the abandoned art museum," he tells her as they walk down the long corridors, "otherwise known as our home."

"Home?"

He nods. "There are others like Finn and I. Apart from us there's Sam, Jake and Santana. And now you."

Rachel looks sideways at him as they walk. She feels her heart racing at everything he tells her, somehow making her more anxious than she was before. Before she can open her mouth he stops walking and points to a room across from them. It's filled with blades, arrows, dagger, all of them hanging from wires in an organized manner. Her eyes widen.

"If you haven't guessed, that's the weapon room," Blaine says, chuckling at himself.

Blaine explains all of the rooms as they walk by them, telling her their history, who likes to sleep in them, and why they haven't torn it down. His obvious excitement begins to grow on her, but not in the way that she'll become excited too. In a friendly way. He must be happy to be interacting with someone outside the museum.

He brings her to a set of doors downstairs after showing her the rooftop. "And this is where Finn should be," he tells her, and she suddenly goes cold, "the training room."

Blaine opens both of the doors and pulls her inside. Her eyes struggle to adjust to the blinding lights that shine on the equipment and carpet, almost like staring into the sun. She blinks heavily, lowering her gaze on the only person inside the room except for her and Blaine.

Finn.

He seems to notice them, removing his fists from the punching bag and squirting water into his mouth. He shakes the sweat that runs down his face, shagging his hair with his hand. She stares at him without hesitance, her eyes narrowing as he walks towards them. His eyes momentarily flicker to Blaine before landing on her, analyzing the cuts and blood that remains on her body.

He stops in front of her. "You feeling any better?"

Rachel sighs, briefly closing her eyes. She just went from a poor girl who lost her brother to a poor girl who lost her brother and her house and most of her blood, so no, she doesn't feel any better. "Not really," she hisses, "no one is telling me what the hell is going on."

"Rachel - "

She throws her hand up to keep him from talking. "Who are you, Finn?" she begins, and she can already feel all the frustration she's kept for the last few weeks build inside her. She see's Blaine step away from her, though Finn stays where he is, unmoving. "You see, I've never seen you before in my whole entire life but obviously my parents know you, and Puck, because you showed up at his funeral. You said he was a 'great man', how would you know? I've never seen you at our house, I've never heard Puck even mention you before! And then all of a sudden, when I'm about to get attacked by some creep, you show up! Again!"

She begins to walk towards him, her finger pointing at his chest. "Then I try to go to sleep and forget everything, that should be easy shouldn't it? But it's not, because when I go to the kitchen I get attacked by this fat-ass creature, who is apparently a demon, and then my dad just comes and kills it like he's been doing it for years!" She's right in front of him now, almost pressed up against him as she digs her finger into his shirt. "So I try to run, but it doesn't take long before I'm attacked for the third time that day and almost die when you show up!"

Rachel sucks in a breath and pounds her finger against his chest in frustration. "Why won't you tell me what the hell is happening to me instead of just showing up and pretending to be a hero - "

Finn grabs her wrist in his hand before she can jab him again, holding it close to her face. She looks up at him, her chest heaving in shallow breathes as he rubs his fingers against her wrist, a look of confusion crossing his emotionless features. He brings her wrist closer to him and notices the circles burned into her skin. He turns her wrist to show Blaine.

"It's her."

xv.

Rachel soon finds herself sitting in the only chair in the living room, looking up at five curious faces. She feels tiny as they stand in all black, blades attached to their hip and leg pouches. Their eyes scan over her body, looking at the cuts and blood that plastered her body the moment the first demon attacked her house.

"So," she says, "is anyone going to tell me what I'm doing here?"

The five of them look at each other, eyes looking at every other person in the room except her. Finn locks eyes with the other girl in the room, Santana, and she turns her gaze towards Rachel, eyes narrowing. She walks towards her in her high heels, arms crossed over her chest. "We're what we call night chasers, a group of skillfully trained people who destroy demons and have the sight of seeing demons. Although some demons are strong enough to manipulate human figures, they have the appearance of humans to normal people. The two circles, the one you wear on your wrist, is the symbol that allows you to see the demons for what they are."

Rachel recalls the man in the alley, the yellow eyes that didn't fit him. "That man, Finn, in the alley - "

"Was a demon," he finishes for her, "I'm assuming you didn't posses the circles at the time so it seemed like an ordinary human. He ran off before I could kill him, so I'm guessing that's why all those demons showed up at your house, because he informed them that the rumors were true - that Puck really does have a little sister, another descendant of Berry."

Rachel laughs, exasperated. "Why is everyone saying that? I'm not a Berry, I'm a Schuester. And Puck has nothing to do with this - "

"You were adopted, Rachel. A prophecy was read that the sixth descendant of Raw Berry would be the one strong enough to end this war and destroy the portal allowing demons to enter our world. Your real parents, Shelby and LeRoy Berry, were fearful that people would come after you so they gave you up to fellow night chasers, Emma and Will, the people you think are your parents. Everyone thought it was Puck, he was the night chaser of the two and it was barely known that he had a younger sister, so demons were obsessed with killing him, making sure he wouldn't be able to destroy the portal."

Rachel's head begins to hurt. "Where are my real parents now?"

Santana sighs, "they were killed three days after they gave you and your brother away."

A waver of emotions shoots through her heart and she stands up, her mouth open with shock. She walks across the room to the window and turns towards them, confusion written all over her face. She see's all of them look at her with sympathy. "I don't understand," she whispers, "why am I suddenly a night chaser? I've never heard of that all my life."

A blonde boy, Sam, is the one to answer this time. "Night chaser's are born within blood, and are the oldest and only child of the children they breed. Since your brother passed away, the duty has been appointed to you, you now have the responsibility to destroy not only demons, but the portal that allows them to enter our world. It is said that the portal is in Hawk's tower in the Underworld, so we're going to have to find a way to get to Underworld. It's what the prophecy read."

Rachel points at herself, shaking her head. "I'm not a warrior, I'm not some child destined to save the world. It was probably Puck, he was the one who was supposed to - "

"If Puck was the one who was meant to destroy the portal he wouldn't be dead right now."

She stares at them, the way Blaine refuses to look her way, the way Santana stands cold and daring, the way Finn looks as if he wants to leave the room. She shakes her head, "what do you want from me?"

Jake speaks up, and she almost forgot he was in the room. "The portal in the Underworld only allows for entrance to the real world. No living night chaser has ever been to Underworld, the only people there are the creatures who were born in it. Demons. We need to build an army and then get to Underworld."

"How?"

"There was a portal that entered the Underworld back in the late 1800s. Raw Berry, an ancestor of yours, destroyed it. We believe you can open it again. Allow an army to enter it and attack the kingdom and destroy the portal letting demons into our world." Santana breathes heavily and takes a step closer to Rachel, her arms now pinning to her sides. She looks down at her, almost desperate. "For decades, our kind has been trained and killed to protect the citizens of earth. We've risked our lives for the safeness of others. We want to live a normal life."

Rachel stares up at them, she has to be the youngest one here because most of them look as if they're in their early twenties, nineteen at most. She thinks of never being able to decide a future, a choice that should be given to every child. She shakes her head. "I don't understand what this means - "

"It means that if we destroy the portal that lets demons walk through our land, than we don't have to worry about them ever returning here." Santana looks behind her at the rest of the group, and they nod in encouragement, "and we believe you're the one who can do it."

Suddenly, Rachel is reminded again of the responsibility they're asking of her. She stands up, feeling more like an eight year old than an eighteen year old as she crosses her arms stubbornly over her chest. Her eyes gaze around the room and she begins to back away. "This is insane," she feels the need to laugh in their faces, but she doesn't think that will make her feel any better. "I am not a hero, okay? I barely know who I am, and you think you can tell me who I'm destined to be?"

Blaine looks startled, almost ashamed. "Rachel - "

She holds up her finger to stop him. "No. I am no one special okay? I'm Rachel Schuester, I'm eighteen, I am not the girl you're looking for, and I'm definitely not a night chaser." She notices the look of hurt that cross their faces as she spits the word at them. She would have felt bad if she wasn't so confused and frustrated, so she just goes on. "I don't know who you people are, and I don't know what those things are out there. All I know is that I want to go home. Now."

Santana is the only one who recovers quickly enough to answer her, and when she does, her voice is suddenly cold. Her eyes reflect her tone as she stares at Rachel in disgust. "You can't go home," she hisses, "Will and Emma had an evacuation plan that led them to New York if an attack ever occurred so they could keep you safe. This place only offers residence and shelter to night chasers. It was built by the Law so no demons can get in. It was planned that you'd stay here if they ever left."

Rachel blinks at them, about to say something but thinks differently. She does the only thing she's been doing her whole life. She walks away.

xvi.

The cold air hits her roughly as she exits the art museum, starting towards the nearest pathway that leads to a forest. She heaves out a breath she didn't notice she was holding, her head trying to wrap around the information that they threw at her. Her hands come up to rub against her arms as she walks further and further from the building.

"Rachel."

She should have known he would follow her.

Rachel looks over her shoulder, her mouth resting above her shoulder. "Leave me alone, Finn."

She can almost hear him sigh in frustration. Without a sound, he's in front of her, as fast and swift as a cat, blocking her way to the forest. He leans over her small frame, disbelief shinning in his eyes. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demands.

Rachel is suddenly annoyed with the authority in his voice. "Anywhere but here," she retorts, "all you've done is cause me trouble and pain. I don't know if you ever thought - "

"Trouble?" He laughs at her, "if it weren't for me, you would already be dead."

She blinks up at him, speechless. Dead. Such a strong word with so many emotions that come with it. It could seem like a joke to other people, a way of exaggerating their feelings and frustrations. But to Rachel, it's a reality. Dead, just like her brother, just like her parents. She can already notice the regret tint in his eyes after he realizes what he said. Before he can move she stalks around him, again taking the path towards the forest.

"Rachel, I'm sorry."

She stops walking completely at his torn tone. She can almost feel him close his eyes in dread, his desperateness the only reason she isn't running down the path. She can feel her heart beat wildly through her blood, veins pulsing and quickening. Her chest heaves in shallow breathes as she waits for him to continue.

"I didn't mean it like that, okay?" he gasps out, obviously exhausted, "you're just so - so, like your brother, so damn stubborn."

She holds herself together as she slowly turns to face him, her arms snuggling against her beating chest. Her eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness of the night, his usual dull features now shinning with pain that she almost wants to embrace him. She keeps the attraction to herself, standing exactly where she is as he looks at her. "Were you two close?" she asks, her voice just cracking.

Finn shrugs, "he was my best friend."

Red begins to blur her vision when she realizes her body wants to cry again. She shuts her eyes closed, but she can still see Finn. "I'm sorry," she croaks, her eyes flashing open with tears, "I need to leave. I'm not the girl you were looking for, I - I - "

Rachel shakes her head, giving up. She begins to back away when he takes a step closer, keeping the distance the same between them. "He died trying you know. He wanted to end this war himself." The words sharply pinch at her emotions, and he continues, "all he kept telling me was that he needed to make a better world for you."

Rachel freezes, gulping down the building thickness in her throat. She wants to run, hide herself from all the pain and hurt she's experienced in the past few weeks. Finn can tell she's still hesitant so he takes another step towards her, and then he's suddenly in front of her, his head tilting down to her short size.

His breath is suddenly warm on her despite the cold air, and she shivers. Her eyes peer up at his, still watering with unshed tears. "I guess it's your choice," he breathes, "if you want to leave, I won't stop you."

Rachel looks at her surroundings, she would have no where to go, no where to go to. She has no protection against those demons or whatever they're called, she doesn't know the first thing about killing one. She looks back up at Finn, and he makes up her mind in one remaining sentence.

"But it would be easier for me if you stayed here, because I'm going to have to follow you either way."

She rolls her eyes at his comment, defeated. Without another word, she shoves past him and back towards the art museum.

xvii.

Blaine is already at the front door when she returns, his expression sympathetic. He pats her on the back lightly, guiding her towards the staircase and up the steps. "Everything will make sense eventually," he tells her. She chews on her bottom lip, not in the position to say anything as sleep begins to dawn on her.

Her mind starts to daze, and she thinks of Finn, of how broken he sounded when he spoke about her brother. She feels bad for assuming he didn't know him, but she'll never admit that, no matter how attractive and strong Finn is, no matter how many times she's dreamt about him since the funeral.

He stops in front of an open doorway, the room viewable for anyone to see. It's fairly large, the walls plastered with blue paint and white trims. Picture frames are set on tables and nightstands, though the darkness blinds her eyes from seeing the photo itself. The one thing that draws to her the most, although, is the bed in the centre of the room.

"This," he explains, "was Puck's bedroom."

Her stomach drops; she should have expected that. She nods at Blaine and offers him a small smile. He hesitantly leaves, probably nervous that she'll run off or break down crying.

Rachel walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind her. She walks up to the picture frames and grins at them, seeing one of her and Puck at his graduation. He must have been a night chaser at the time.

She's too tired to get sentimental so she stalks over to the bed, stopping when she see's a pair of shorts and t-shirt on the covers. She easily shrugs into them, throwing her bloody clothes on the floor without a thought. She snuggles on the mattress, bringing the comforters up to her chin as she stares up at the ceiling.

Rachel closes her eyes, thinking of demons and portals, heroes and her parents. Everyone must know she isn't capable of saving them, not even close to the amount of strength that Puck had, or Finn. She's tiny, not a warrior, and definitely not even coordinated enough to balance a sword.

Everything will make sense eventually, Blaine told her. She sighs, and allows herself to drift off into a world where no one expected anything from her.

xviii.

Light pours through the open cracks in her windows, shinning brightly down on Rachel. She groans in annoyance, trying to cover the light with her small hands. She rolls over on the mattress, stretching and yawning as her body begins to wake up. Her hand reaches for her alarm clock on the bedside table, but she finds nothing, just open air.

Her head snaps up from the mattress, just noticing that she isn't in her bedroom, that her parents aren't downstairs making pancakes for her. She growls as she looks up and realizes she is still in the art museum, still has the stench of blood on her.

Her eyes scan the bedroom again before she notices another door in the room, a door she didn't see in the darkness of the room last night. She jumps out of the bed and runs to it, opening it and seeing that it's a bathroom. She almost faints with happiness as she strips out of her clothes and turns the shower on, leaping in.

Hot water runs down her body, burning off the blood and fear from the day before. She hisses a little as it touches her wounds, though enjoys the following sensation. A couple minutes pass when she thinks it might have been a couple hours and she turns off the tab, getting out. She throws the clothes back on, now wet, and shakes her fresh hair.

Rachel exits the bedroom and walks down the grand staircase, wincing at every step with her sore body. She finally reaches the bottom, and feels as if someone should applaud her and give her a score, but she knows that's not realistic. Obviously it would be more realistic if an army of demons were to attack her and her family.

She can already sense him before she see's him, so she's not surprised when she walks into the kitchen and sees Finn sitting on one of the stools. He looks up from the bowl in his hands as she enters, eyebrows raising at her wet hair and outfit.

"Good morning," he offers as he sits there, watching her walk towards him. She stops in front of the counter, leaning on it and looking back at him. "Take a shower?"

Rachel nods, "didn't really feel up to smelling like blood and demon for another day," she says sarcastically.

Finn smiles, then shrugs. "You get used to it."

Her nose scrunches up at the thought of it, and she turns her attention to the fruit bowl in front of her. She fingers one of the apples in the fruit bowl, rolling it between her fingers. She feels her stomach growl, and she brings the apple towards her mouth.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Finn advises, and she stops before she can taste a bite. Her eyes avert back to his as he grabs the apple from her hands and places it back in the fruit bowl. "Look at this," he beckons her closer, and she bends forward to peer a glance as he presses his fingers roughly against the surface of the apple. It makes a popping sound.

Rachel lets out a chuckle, "Is that supposed to impress me?"

Finn shakes his head, and gestures for her to watch. She gazes back at the apple just in time to see it's surface begin to cave, the redness fading away as it's contents crumple. She stares in disbelief as the apple turns into water that splashes to the counter, and in its place is a small ball, black and crisp.

Finn looks up at her, "does that impress you?"

Rachel stares at the ball, blinking repeatedly to see if its just an allusion. Her eyes cast downwards and she notices that the puddle of water is gone, suddenly evaporated.

"What the hell was that?" she gasps, looking back at Finn. She suddenly notices their close proximity as her nose gently glides against his cheek and she leans back. Her cheeks redden, but Finn doesn't seem to notice as he twists the ball in his hands.

"This," he explains, holding it up between his fingers, "is a poisonous gas bomb. If a demon were to posses human form they have a chance of entering the art museum. We hide our weapons so they don't expect an attack, that's why it manipulated the appearance of an apple."

Rachel shakes her head in bewilderment. "This is so messed up," she says, eyes wide as she takes a seat on a nearby stool. Finn glances at her and nods in agreement.

She crosses her arms against her chest, leaning back in the stool as she stares at the bowl of fruit. What else is in there? Pocket knifes? Hidden chocolate bars? She doesn't think she wants to know.

"Are those Santana's clothes?"

She follows Finn's gaze to her body, takes in the blue t-shirt and the black, denim shorts that she's wearing. She looks back up at him and shrugs. "I don't know, I guess so." She instantly thinks of her house, the most recent demon attack. Her eyes pinch shut as she remembers her parents.

"Looks like we're going to have to get you some clothes."

Her eyes open. "Where?"

Finn jumps off the stool and begins to walk towards the training room. She deliberately follows, her arms still crossed over her chest.

"Why, your house of course."

xix.

He pushes the doors open, allowing Rachel to enter the training room as he closes them shut behind him. She can already grunting and fists hitting flesh as she follows Finn to the ring, and she can see a patch of blonde hair.

Sam has Jake in a rough embrace, his hands catching his wrists and pinning them to the ground. Jake struggles underneath him, using his legs as an advantage to wrap around Sam's waist and roll on top of him. He laughs in relief.

Finn claps his hands, stopping at the ropes that create a square. Jake shifts so Sam can sit upright, and he nods up at Rachel, a sign of greeting. "Nicely done," Finn applauds, smiling widely.

Jake shrugs. "Learned that one from you," he catches Rachel's eye, "nice to see you didn't run away"

Rachel doesn't know if he's being sarcastic or truthful, so she doesn't say anything, just hides behind Finn's muscular frame. She watches as Finn dismisses the comment, waving his hand towards Jake. He's obviously dealt with Jake's comments before.

"You guys up for some demon hunting?"

Sam wiggles his eyebrows, jumping from his spot on the ground. Jake follows his steps, the both of them walking to the end of the ring where Finn is standing. Rachel slightly takes a step backwards as they pant, their breath heavy on her prickling skin.

"What's the occasion?" Sam questions. His eyes wander to Rachel and back, and it seems like he understands before Finn can even say anything.

Finn grips the ropes playfully. "Rachel needs clothes, and we want her to feel as comfortable as possible while she's here," he ignores Jake's roll of the eyes. "Her house was attacked by demons so who knows what's there." His voice rises in excitement as he talks about weapons, and Rachel is shocked by how they think killing demons is fun.

Boys.

Jake nods. "We should go soon, before it gets dark. Just don't tell Tana and Blaine, they'll flip." He bends down to escape the ropes trapping him in the boxing ring, standing before Finn and Rachel with determination.

Finn grins. "I wasn't planning to."

xx.

"We're going to take whatever we can fit since we don't know how many there'll be."

Rachel watches as Finn begins to pick weapons from the shelves. She hasn't seen half of the stuff he's choosing except for a couple sword-thingys and blades. He notices her confusion, and stops, turning towards her.

"You sure you're up for this?" he questions. She blinks, she hadn't even have time to think about what she was going to do, if she were even going to go. What if she's in the way? What if she's just a distraction? She knows they think she's this great, powerful girl destined to fight, but she doesn't even know the first thing about cutting a carrot with a knife.

She watches as Finn grabs another weapon from the shelf, and walks towards her. He stops in front of her, reaching forward to grab her hand and place it outward. He opens her clenched fingers, spreading her fingers out in a relaxing state. She blushes again, does he not know that he's openly touching her? She tries to shake the thought from her mind, it's not like she's attracted to him.

He places something in her hand, cold and sharp. She removes her gaze from his face to stare at the item, seeing it as some sort of knife. "It's a dagger," he tells her as she examines it, "you're brother was good with them."

Rachel blinks up at him. "I don't know how to use this."

Finn sighs. He closes her hand around it, tightening her fingers at the base. He lets go and drops his arm at his side. "I know you don't believe in destiny and prophecies, but I also know that you come from a great bloodline of elite night chasers. You can't doubt your abilities before you try them."

Rachel nods, her hand shaking as she clenches the dagger. "Okay."

xxi.

Finn leads her to the grand hallway, opening the front doors and stepping out into the fresh summer air. He looks back to see if she's following, and she almost crashes into him as he stops. She feels the material of his leather jacket rub against her, his blades tucked into his belt.

Rachel steps back and allows him to move forward, and he turns the corner that stops at the garage doors. Adrenaline suddenly courses through her veins as Finn enters the code for it to open, wondering what kind of car is behind it. It could be a Mercedes, maybe a Lexus.

Her anticipation quickly subsides as the garage opens to reveal a mini van, parts of it missing, the front window chipped. Her eyebrows click together in confusion. "What?" Finn demands, "not every Night Chaser can afford nice cars."

Rachel shrugs. "As long as it has a stereo."

Finn chuckles, walking to the van. He opens the driver's seat door, nodding at Rachel to follow. She almost gags at the stench of demon as she makes her way to the mini van, throwing herself in the passenger seat. She looks around, appalled by the blood stains on the ceiling and bottom of the van.

"Oh my gosh," she gasps, "and you're telling me not to be nervous?"

Before Finn can say anything, Jake and Sam enter the garage, both geared up in blades and leather. They stalk towards them, sliding the back door open and climbing in. They plump on the creaking seats, smiling widely. "Let's go!"

Rachel ignores the uneasy feeling in her stomach, trying not to show the insecure, little girl she is.

xxii.

Finn stops the van a couple feet away from her driveway, opposite to the street her house is placed. She stares up at it through her window, it looks exactly the same, although her father's car is missing from the picture. Her eyes trail any broken windows, but there's nothing, as if they were on vacation or out for the day to any by passer.

Finn looks back at Jake and Sam. "You guys stay here," he orders, "if there's any trouble I'll call you up, but I don't want to draw attention."

Sam nods, and they both look a little deflated. Rachel wants to offer that they could take her place, but that will just make her look scared and weak, like any other eighteen year old girl. She sighs, she doesn't understand what they think is so special about her. She can tell that Jake doesn't either.

Finn opens his side door and hops out, hiding his belt of blades with his jacket. Rachel watches as he comes around the van towards her, opening her door. She doesn't move.

She can tell Finn is growing sympathetic. "I can get your clothes if you're too nervous to go in."

Clenching the dagger in her hand, she jumps from the seat. She looks up at Finn with determination. "I'm ready" she says, and she walks away without looking at the expression on his face. She can hear him shut her door and begin to follow her up the pathway leading to her porch. He catches up to her as they approach the front door.

Rachel stares at the door knob, waiting for something, anything, to signal it's either too dangerous or safe enough to go in. Finn grabs Rachel's wrist and pushes her behind him. "No matter what, stay behind me," he tells her, the authority thick in his voice. She can feel herself nod, watches as he turns the knob ever so slowly, pushing the door open.

The room beyond it isn't what she expected. Mirrors are shattered along the carpet, tables and chairs broken on the carpet floor. She can feel a rush of air as Finn closes the door closed, staring at the house in disbelief. He doesn't say anything, just lets her get a look. She can see the black goo that oozes from demons spray against the walls, and she hopes that her father killed as many as he could.

"Come on," Finn whispers, and she turns to see him already making his way up the staircase. She makes one final glance at the crashed room around her, the broken picture frames, the snapped fan. Her eyes blink away the images as she follows Finn up the stairs.

Her hands grips the railing as she squeaks up the steps, her dagger clenched tightly at her side. She reaches the last step at the top and turns to Finn. He nods in encouragement, signaling it's safe to move, and she hurries to her bedroom.

It's worse than she remembered. The lamp she used to crack against the demon is smashed at her carpet, the light bulb splinting pieces of glass around it. Black goo stains the lamp shade, and she feels a certain sense of pride when she realizes that she hurt it, made it draw blood. Her eyes avert to the window, and she see's claw marks against the walls surrounding it.

"It was like this when I came in that night," Finn whispers, "I thought it killed you."

She shakes her head, eyes scanning the red blood that hardens at the ledge. Her blood. "It was going to," she replies, throat tightening at the memory. She sighs, and then adds, "if you didn't show up."

She leaves it at that, determination finally settling in as she breaks away from the memories. Her hands grab at any material of clothing she can find, shoving them into a duffle bag under neath her bed. She notices Finn watching her from the door frame, his muscular arms crossed heavily over his chest. She doesn't know if he's impatient or not so she tucks all of the clothes from her drawer into the bag.

Rachel slings the strap over her shoulder, sliding the dagger into one of the pockets. She looks up to see Finn already staring at her, his brown eyes warm and welcoming it almost makes her feel wanted. "Okay, I guess we should leave," she estimates, not knowing what his plan is. Finn only nods, jerking his head towards the door that leads to the hallway.

She follows him out the door, the bag colliding with her legs as she walks. They're almost at the staircase when she stops him, staring across the hallway at the bedroom across from them. His eyes follows hers and he seems to understand what she's looking at. Puck's room.

"Go ahead," he whispers, his tone aching. She turns to look at him, sees the sadness in his face. The look of loosing someone and having to be reminded of it. The look of being able to relive memories, but wanting to respect the privacy of their snooping sister. Rachel steps backwards and gestures him forward. "Aren't you coming?

She can see the twitch of a smile on his face, and the action kind of creates butterflies in her stomach. He follows her to the bedroom and waits patiently for her to turn the knob. She can sense the his nerves as she slowly opens the door.

Rachel has never really been in Puck's room, and now she knows why.

Daggers and blades hang from the walls, giving the room a shadow of their silhouettes. His gear lays on a table in his closet, black and leather, blood stains visible in the material. Her eyes scan over the map of Lima that rests on the wall above his bed, red dots identified as demon populated spots. She see's her high school as one of them.

She stands back in awe. "I've never seen this before," she thinks aloud, staring around. Her eyes do a full circle and land back on Finn, who stands sheepishly in the corner.

"That doesn't surprise me," he tells her, "he probably protected this room so only Night Chasers can see it. You see it now since you have that symbol on your wrist."

Her eyebrows arch at the information, nodding. Well played big bro, she thinks, well played. She steps forward, shocked to feel the floorboards caving in, a large board of wood snapping in half. Finn grabs her arm and jerks her towards him, listening as the wood hits the first level with a crash. "Be careful," he hisses, as if he expected her to know she gained so much weight she'd break the floor. "When Night Chasers die, their rooms are altered so demons can't come through. These floorboards probably can't sustain demon weight. Very fragile."

"Noted." Rachel removes herself from his hold, tiptoeing along the floorboards as they creak underneath her. She feels Finn follow her exact footsteps, unexpectedly light on his feet. She slides the duffle bag from her shoulder and rests it on the ground, the floor screeching under its weight. Her eyes take particular interest in a picture frame on the night stand in front of her, a picture with two very familiar boys.

"Is that you?" Rachel asks, turning back to look at Finn. He looks slightly uncomfortable until she acknowledges him, and he peers forward, lifting the frame towards his face. He releases a chuckle, and Rachel can't help but smile in return. "This was the year we met at training camp in summer '04. We were both twelve years old but man, you're brother would do riskier things than the seniors."

Rachel laughs. "That doesn't surprise me. He was never very fond of any of my boyfriends." She doesn't know why she thinks how much Puck loved Finn, and how happy he would have been of her decision. She feels her cheek suddenly blaze red, and she forces the thought from her mind.

"He told me about them, you know," Finn laughs, "he told me about Carmen and Max, Adam, Leo, Jeremy - "

She interrupts him before he can name the whole alphabet. "Okay, okay I get it, he hated all of them." She expected him to laugh, respond with a snarky comment, but he just shakes his head. His eyes bore into hers, and she's never found brown eyes so interesting until now. She stares up at them.

"It wasn't them he hated." He waits for the thoughts to register with her, but she remains silent, still waiting for an explanation. "It was what they represented. They represented you growing up, becoming a woman. And if there was one thing your brother wanted, it was for you to stay innocent."

Rachel tilts her head to the side, gaze remaining on Finn. "Why?"

"Because you were his little sister."

She doesn't say anything. Her lips push together in a pout as she remembers how protective he got, how annoyed he was with them when they would take her out or she would go to their house. Thinking about now, how he just wanted to be close to his sister and know she's okay, she regrets ever leaving the house without saying a proper goodbye. A kiss or a hug. She's never said 'I love you' enough times.

A hissing sound echoes from the bedroom, and Finn instantly goes rigid. He draws his hand towards his belt, fingers resting upon the blades that run along his waist. Rachel snaps her head towards the doorway, her eyes widening as she see's a dark shadow in the hallway, tongue licking at it's fangs. Her heart stops.

It steps forward, and she can see it now for the demon that it is. It's bigger than she's seen, but she isn't all that familiar with them. Still has the same yellow eyes that suck hope and warmth from the air, claws tapping against the ground. She feels Finn push her behind him, his fingers already clenched around one of the blades.

"Don't move," he hisses, his eyes insistent on the creature in front of them. She stands closer to him, her chest heavy.

It's a fast blur, but Finn suddenly throws his hand back, a blade set between his fingers. He snaps it forward, the blade releasing from its grip and aiming towards the ceiling. She watches in horror as it completely misses the creature, though is suddenly aware that it was on purpose. The blade shoots through the ceiling, allowing a beacon of sunlight to shine through. The light lands on the demon's body, but it doesn't flinch, doesn't even seem to notice.

"Shit." Finn draws a long sword from his belt, holding it close to his chest. "Rachel, yell for Sam and Jake. This isn't a normal - "

The demon lurches forward, mouth gaped open in a roar as it charges. Finn pushes Rachel down to the floor, her weight cracking some of the floorboards that she falls upon. She looks up in time for the demon to step inside the room, and she waits for a crash for it to fall through, but nothing happens.

Absolutely nothing.

"Rachel - "

Finn doesn't have time to finish his order as the demon hurtles at him, its fangs stretching out. He jumps to the side towards Rachel, his hands reaching upwards as he brings the sword down towards the demon. It moves quickly, tail thrashing against picture frames and items placed on nightstands. Rachel stares in horror as it shatters the picture of Finn and Puck.

It's tail descends down onto Rachel, and she rolls over in time for it to crash on the floorboards beside her. Theres no evidence of anything snapping, as if the demon is weightless. She coughs out the dust that traps her lungs and stares up at the scene in front of her, the demon stench full of blood and death, almost inviting her in.

Finn's sword slashes down on the demons tail, slicing right through the flesh. The tail separates in half, releasing a bucket of black blood along Rachel and Finn. It almost burns on her skin, wetness violently seeking through her clothes. The demon screeches in pain, turning around and clawing forward, it's paw hitting Finn squarely in the chest. The action causes him to fly backwards, his body slamming against the opposite wall.

"Finn!" Rachel screams, and she tries to run towards him, but the demon claws at her back, creating three lines of open flesh. She cries out in pain, dropping down on the floorboards weakly. Her eyes blur as she sees the demon stalk towards her, and she turns to see if Finn is getting up, but he lays unconscious on the floor.

Her body screams at her as she lifts herself up from the floorboards, pain scorching through her. She reaches forward to grab the loose tail in her hands, and it feels heavy in her arms, unlike the effect it has on the floorboards. She closes her eyes, hoping whatever stupid plan she has, it will work. She waits until the demon edges closer, claws screeching against the wood.

That's when she slams the tail against the boards.

For a second, nothing happens. Only silence. The demon continues to taunt her though it doesn't seem to matter because the ground begins to shake, like a ripple through water. Her eyes glance around the room to see objects falling off shelfs and tables, crashing onto the floor. Rachel smirks.

It worked.

The floorboards cave in, all of the wood snapping in half under the weight. She sees the demon fall through the crack, and then she suddenly feels herself flying in the air. The ride lasts about a second before she hits the ground of the first level, her back landing against the kitchen counter. She screams, blood squirting from her wound. The sound of debris continue to fall around her, and she closes her eyes, just for a second, waiting for the destruction to be over. For everything to be over.

It's silent. That's the first thing she notices. Feeling safe, Rachel squints her eyes open, and the first thing she notices is a flash of movement, not from the demon, but a smaller figure. Relief washes through her.

"Finn!"

His eyes connect with hers, and it isn't until then that she notices the boards that lay on top of him, trapping him to the ground. She see's the pressure on his face as it squishes him, and she breathes out. "Finn - "

A screech of anger breaks through the room, and the demon surges through a pile of boards that landed on him. His yellow eyes grow in rage as they search for the closest source of death. Rachel sort of wishes it was her, and it makes it even worse when it isn't.

Finn struggles with the boards as the demon stalks towards him, and it almost looks as if it might be it. Rachel panics, her eyes searching for anything to distract it, harm it long enough for Finn to free himself. Her eyes rest on the duffle bag thrown beside her, the dagger shinning from where she placed it in the side pocket.

Rachel rolls on the counter, blood smearing against the surface as she lands harshly on the ground. Her legs carry her forward, the pain in her back subsiding as her determination takes over. She bends forward, reaching for the dagger. Her fingers grasp it, and she feels the power she possess, the advantage she has over the demon.

She closes her eyes, trusting herself. Her hand clenches around the handle of the dagger and she remember what Finn said, about how her brother was talented at throwing them. She thinks of her brother, her parents, she thinks of the demon inching closer and closer towards Finn. The one who is constantly risking his life for her.

Her eyes snap open at the thought, and she raises her hand past her head. Anxiety pumping through, she can already feel herself breaking, but she doesn't care. Her gaze falls on the demons figure, and without hesitation, she throws the dagger.

It spirals, and for a second it looks like it'll miss the demon completely. She lets out a breath she doesn't realize she was holding, watching as the dagger slides through her target.

Right into the demons stomach.

It screeches again, high pitched, and turns towards her. Forgetting Finn completely, it starts towards her. She watches as Finn tries his hardest to escape from the boards, still struggling.

A break of light distracts them both as Jake and Sam enter the house, blades and swords attached to their hand. They notice the scene before them and gesture for Rachel to get out of the way, not even registering the blood and destruction that has occurred. They walk towards the demon without a fear in their eye.

Rachel doesn't watch as the two boys jump on top of the creature, but she can already hear the blades slicing through flesh as she runs along the piles of debris towards Finn. Her legs feel as if they're going to give out as she crawls the last couple of steps to where Finn lays under the floorboards, her breath harboring in shallow heaves. She reaches Finn, and she can see the cuts and bruises that begin to form on his face.

Her eyes scan the floorboard on top of him, and it intimidates her. "I'm going to help you lift it, okay?" she coughs out, wiping some of the demon's blood from her face. He nods, placing his hands on the wood, and looking in her direction. She reaches forward to get a grip on the board, wincing as she hears another scream release from the demon.

Their eyes meet, and Rachel puts all her strength into lifting the board. It's heavier than she expected, and she knows that most of the force is coming from Finn's muscular body. She can feel the board lift, and she gasps out as Finn throws it off of him, sucking in a large breath of air.

Rachel leans towards him in relief. "Are you okay?" she asks him, her hand brushing his arm. He looks up at her, his chest heaving as he analyzes the blood on her clothes.

"Good thing we got you some clothes."

Despite everything, Rachel lets out a chuckle. She's about to reply when a movement rushes past her in a quick motion. Both her and Finn look across from where they sit, and it takes everything in Rachel not to cry out in relief when she see's the demons head.

It's over.

xxiii.

"Hold still, will you."

Finn's fingers graze across Rachel's back, wiping the remaining blood stains from her wound. She hisses lightly, gripping the edge of the table in front of her as he cleans it.

"He got you pretty good, didn't he?" Finn places a large bandage on her open flesh, covering it. The cotton begins to sizzle onto her skin, instantly healing her. She wonders if this is another one of their tricks. A fast healing bandage.

Rachel squints her eyes in relief, leaning upwards. "I'm sure it could have been worse," she replies, turning around to face him. He looks different without the blood that she's so used to seeing him in. Almost unrecognizable. She leans back on the table, analyzing the bruises that cover his face.

The moment Jake and Sam killed the demon, they grabbed their things and rushed back to the art museum. No one really spoke about what happened, or what made the demon withstand sunlight. It was silent except for the frequent reminders by Finn that they were almost home, and hold on a little longer like he was expecting her to have a mental break down. Surprisingly, she didn't panic, as if she suddenly became a real Night Chaser.

It didn't take long to sneak past Santana and Blaine, and so Finn rushed her inside here, the "healing room." They both took showers - separately - and changed into new clothes. It would be difficult to tell that they just came back from fighting a demon, except for the claw marks on her back. The claw marks that are now being healed by Finn and his magic tools.

Finn stares back at her. "I'm sorry about your house," he whispers, recalling the broken floorboards and picture frames. "I didn't expect the fight to be so - disastrous."

She notices the genuine distress in his eyes. She feels her face soften. "It's alright," she reassures him, knowing she's not the only one hurting. Her eyebrows arch together when she remembers something. "You're not going to tell me why that sunlight didn't kill the demon, are you?"

She can almost hear the smile in her voice as he shakes his head. "No. Not yet," he tells her. Rachel sighs, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest. She barely feels the pain in her back now, almost like it never happened. She will never understand how that works. Finn smiles. "First," he says, "we have to do something even more dangerous."

Her eyes narrow. "What's that?"

"Tell Santana."

xxiv.

"You what!"

Rachel winces from her position on the couch, squished in between Finn and Blaine as Santana paces the room. She can hear Sam snicker from the chair beside her, and Blaine turns to give him a disappointing look.

"You realize that she could have been killed right?" Santana screams. Words she doesn't understand release harshly from her mouth, and Rachel realizes that she's speaking Spanish, insulting them without them knowing. "Honestly, Finn - "

"Look at her, does she look dead?" he defends, gesturing beside him. She feels heavy under everyone's glare, obviously the focus of attention. Blaine shakes his head in disapproval after noticing the few bruises on her arms.

The room is silent, only the sound of breathing echoing off the walls of the museum. She can tell that Santana is beginning to calm herself as she holds a hand to her chest in an attempt to steady her racing heart. Finn stays rigid beside her, defensive, ready to reason with whatever situation Santana or Blaine could throw at him. Rachel sits in the middle, feeling useless and dumb for the cause of this fight.

Santana sighs. "You can't do that anymore Finn, if she gets killed, we're all doomed." Rachel rubs her hands together, remembering the demon's long claws as it dug into her back, how painful it felt, how much blood there was. She can't imagine the agony of her death if the demon were to repeat the action, stabbing her again. She winces.

"What happened in the house?" Blaine asks, noticing Rachel's jerk. Everyone looks at him, speaking for the first time since they called everyone down. His eyes register to Finn, waiting for a response.

Finn purses his lip. She hopes he'll explain the demon in the house, how it was weightless, how it with stained sunlight. She turns towards him, waiting like everyone else in the room. "The place was trashed when we got there," he explains, "blood stains on walls and floors. We - Rachel and I - went upstairs to get her bags and then we visited Puck's old room."

"Finn, that room is fragile - "

He cuts off Santana's comment, "it wasn't long before a demon found us. But it wasn't a normal demon. It was able to walk on Puck's floor and expose to sunlight. It was a Prite."

Santana inhales harshly, a hand slapping to her mouth. She stares after Finn, his words obviously triggering a strong reaction. Her hand moves up to her forehead, her fingers expanding on her skin. "Shit," she hisses, briefly closing her eyes. "Are you sure? They're only summoned by - "

"I know," Finn sighs, "which means he knows."

That doesn't sound good.

Rachel perks in her position on the couch, looking back and forth between Finn and Santana. Their expressions are the same, giving no hints. "Who knows what?" she demands, her voice raising in frustration.

Santana exhales and looks to Finn. He shakes his head. "Master Hawk," Santana answers, "he's the ruler of the Underworld, strong enough to control any demon he wants. Thought the only time anyone sees a Prite is because it's been ordered to complete a request made by Master Hawk." She stares at Rachel, her eyes raking the forming bruises, "which in this case he wanted them - "

"To kill me," Rachel finishes. She nods in understanding, her eyes averting to the ground below her. Her stomach twists inside her, a powerful feeling of fear washing over. A demon ruler wants her dead, great.

A comforting hand rests on her knee and she looks to see who it belongs to. Finn stares at her, his fingers rubbing softly against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "We won't pretend he isn't dangerous, but he is limited," Finn starts reassuringly. "He won't be able to enter our world unless he can get back to the Underworld."

"And that is why we can't have you opening the portal unless we have an army ready," Blaine chips in, "so he can't come through."

"So he can't kill me," she repeats, her thoughts always returning back to that statement. She feels Finn squeeze her knee in reassurance, and she looks up at him, eyes shinning.

He tries to smile at her. "We won't let him near you, okay?"

She ignores him.

Rachel slams the door behind her, striding into her room in frustration. She throws herself on the bed, the mattress creaking under her weight as she stuffs her face in the pillow.

A demon ruler is out to get her, sending demons and other non-living creatures after her to make sure she dies. The thought makes her sick of having to see another 'Prite' again, it's slimy skin, it's wiping tail. One is dangerous enough, even to Finn, so she's not exactly sure how they plan on protecting her.

She doesn't think they do either.

A vibration echoes throughout the dark room, and she props her head on her hands. Her eyes scan the blackness, when she realizes its coming from the bag of clothes she packed from her house earlier today. She rolls over on her mattress, flinging herself upwards and to the bag across from her. She bends down, searching the pockets until she feels the vibration against her.

Her hand wraps around its form and pulls it out. It's her cell phone.

10 missed calls and 23 text messages from Quinn Fabray.

Rachel sighs, biting her lip as she scrolls through the screen. Her eyes catch multiple questions like "are you okay?", "where are you?" and "what happened at school?" She knows she should call back, confirm that she's fine, but something tells her its best to leave Quinn out of it until she figures out how to live in this world and protect herself.

Her fingers skim the screen, wishing more than anything to fall back into the world of the norm. It's no secret that she doesn't want the responsibility of a night chaser, or the so-called destiny that comes with being the ancestor of Raw Berry, but something tells her this is much bigger than her. Something much bigger than Puck or Finn, bigger then she ever imagined it to be.

A knock on the bedroom door interrupts her thoughts, making her flinch at the unexpected noise. She holds the cell phone to her chest, walking towards the door with slight hesitation.

"Rachel?"

She exhales, hearing the familiar voice. Throwing the cell phone on her bed she pulls the door open, frowning as Sam stands on the other side.

"Hey," he grins, despite her unhappy expression, "dinner is ready."

She gulps, slightly shaking her head to rid of her previous fear. Dinner isn't exactly her first priority right now. "Sorry but I'm not very hungry," she lies, though her stomach growls in disagreement. She nods at him, satisfied with her answer as she backs away with her hand on the door.

He grabs the frame before she can close it on him. His eyes stay still on her eyes as he pulls it open. "You're upset," he observes.

Rachel shrugs. "Well it isn't easy finding out the most powerful demon in the Underworld is trying to kill me."

Sam sighs, looking sympathetic as he returns her gaze. His hands fall at his side and he steps back, giving her space. He tries to look reassuring, but she knows he's just trying to help, no matter what he believes.

"All of us are committed to protecting you, Rachel. You don't have to worry."

Rachel leans her head against the door frame. Her eyes cascade downwards as she crosses her arms over her chest. She thinks of the Prite they faced earlier, how lethal it was. She thinks of Finn and Blaine and the rest of them, how they can be injured at any time just for the sake of saving her. She closes her eyes briefly, trying her best to feel any comfort or reassurance.

She opens her eyes, failing miserably.

"Come on," he encourages, noticing her doubting expression, "just try and get to know us better."

She lets him lead her out of the bedroom.

xxvi.

"Pass the turkey!"

Rachel leans backwards in her chair as Blaine picks up the tray of turkey in front of her, stretching over her to give it to Jake. She can't help but laugh as Jake reaches for it, both of them meeting in the middle on top of her in chaos, like two bickering brothers. A family.

She misses things like that.

She watches as Santana and Sam argue over how much salt to put on the broccoli, watches as Blaine chops messily with his turkey bits, obviously annoying Jake as he rolls his eyes. She smiles at them, turning to Finn, who sits steadily at the head of the table, observing them like a father in embarrassment.

She grins as he breaks apart the fight between Santana and Sam, taking the salt away from them and placing it roughly on the table. His eyes meet hers as he gets comfortable in his chair, and her cheeks redden. He returns the smile, and she has look away before she humiliates herself any further.

"You want any potatoes, Rachel?" Sam questions, chewing sloppily. She lets out a giggle, thankful for him dragging her down here instead of sulking in the bedroom. She can feel Finn's eyes on her as she nods, allowing Sam to scoop the potatoes onto her plate.

"Thank you," she bows her head towards him in amusement, and he winks at her. She sighs, thankful for the distraction of their company as the thought of demons and death slip easily into the back of her mind. She observes them in front of her, their humor, their interests, and she realizes that they're the closest thing to family she's ever going to be getting.

A shred of doubt echoes in her mind, reminding her of the dangers they're all about to face. Together. She knows now that the only way this will work is if she tries her hardest to protect them as well, all of them.

Her eyes glaze over as she remembers Puck, her parents and Quinn, the people attached to her past. And, as she looks at the new people in front of her, the people that are now apart of her future, she can't help but feel one thing. Theres no more time to play scared, no time to hide behind them and let them defend her. She can't help but accept the duties and responsibilities of something she's destined to be.

She's a night chaser.

xxvii.

Rachel places the last of the clean dishes onto the counter, her fingers scrunched up in prunes from the minutes she spent washing them in the sink. She continues to scrap small pieces of food from the plates, her eyes zoning in on a particular gravy stain.

"Need any help?"

She looks behind her to where the voice came, acknowledging Finn without a smile or grin. She is not intending on acting like a little girl in front of him. His mouth is perked up in amusement at the pile of plates beside her, his fist wrapped around the end of a full garbage bag.

He walks towards her, watching her steadily as he places the bag on the ground, turning fully towards her. "You seem to be very determined in cleaning those dishes," he teases. She can't help but grin.

"My mom has OCD," she explains, "everything always had to be perfect."

He nods in understanding. Rachel looks away from him, staring at the plate in her hands, the stain that she can't seem to get out. Sighing deeply, she becomes satisfied with the dish and opens the cupboard door. She reaches upwards on her toes, straining to place the plates on the shelf.

She rolls her eyes when Finn begins to laugh.

"Here," he says, leaning forward. His core presses against hers heatedly as he takes the plates from her, his fingers grazing hers. He then presses the tail of the garbage bag in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it. "We can switch."

She looks down, already feeling the heat rush to her face. Nodding, she clears her throat. "Sounds good," she squeaks out, before moving around him and quickly out of the kitchen.

Rachel shakes her body as she exits the museum, dragging the garbage beside her in frustration. Sure, Finn is charming and visually appealing, but it doesn't mean that she is bound to like him or be attracted to him. It definitely doesn't help that he saves her like a damsel in distress like some sort of hero.

Her hands wrap around the garbage bag as she pops it into the garbage bin, annoyed by Finn's good looks and body and everything else that comes with him.

She's a night chaser damnit, she can take care of herself.

A powerful impact crashes against her head, forcing her body into the metal bin in front of her. Her head lands roughly on the edge, and she falls to the side in pain, her hands wrapped around her neck. An aching beat echoes inside her head, and she blinks feverishly to rid of the blur in her eyes, her glazed vision.

A clicking sound chitters beside her, and she is suddenly aware that she isn't alone. Despite the pounding nerves in her head she lifts herself up, turning around to the source of the noise.

She should have guessed.

A crouching demon sits beside her, a smaller version of the one she faced by herself in her house. It clicks repeatedly, claws outstretched as it jabs at her skin. Rachel rolls over, her clothes padding against the ground as she shields herself. She hears the demon continue towards her, and she ignores the pain, the doubt, and faces it.

It's ugly features scrunch together murderously, eyes targeted on Rachel. It begins to stalk towards her and Rachel stalls, having no weapons, no room to run or hide. She looks around her, noticing nothing but the empty garbage bag around her.

Biting her lip, she runs towards it to pick it up in her hands, stretching it arms width. She looks on at the demon as it grows onto its legs, slightly taller but not as tall as her. Its slimy skin spits out water as it breathes in, almost as if its ready to charge.

It acts first, jumping forward with its teeth shinning in the moon light. Rachel moves aside as it lands beside her, taking the advantage to wrap the garbage bag thickly around its neck.

It screams in response as she twists it, running it deeply against its neck. She screams as it jabs a claw into her arm with its back foot, releasing slight blood from her skin. The surprise causes her to weaken her hold and it pulls on the garbage bag, causing Rachel to fall to the ground below it.

She coughs out the injury, staring up as the demon closes in on her. The garbage bag still held tightly around its neck, Rachel pulls her legs up in front of her, dragging the demon down with the garbage bag. It's body falls on her legs, and she pushes them forward, her hands still holding tightly onto the garbage can.

She can hear the loud tear as the force causes the demons head to slowly rip off. She pulls tighter, stronger, decapitate from its body, both of the parts falling to the ground beside her. She groans out in exhaustion, breathing heavily as the fear leaves her body. Closing her eyes, she slows her rapid breaths, turning them slowly into controlled sighs.

"Rachel?"

Her eyes flash open, blinking wildly as she regenerates herself. She weakly forces her body upwards into a sitting position, her eyes straining to see the dimmed figures of Santana, Jake, Sam, Blaine and Finn in front of her, all with one matching expression.

Shock.

Shaking his head, Blaine is the first to speak. "Did you just kill a demon with a garbage bag?"

Rachel looks at the dead creature beside her, its body twitching with the head beside it. The garbage bag lay beside it, human and demon blood stained on the material. She looks back at the group, and nods.

Santana smiles in amusement, winking slightly at her as the rest of them recover from their initial surprise. Walking towards her, Blaine kneels in front of her, pressing his hands against the bruise on her forehead. She winces. "Sorry," he says, pulling his hand back. She watches from the corner of her eye as Finn stalks to the demon beside her, his concern divided.

"Come on, let's get you up," Blaine tells her, gripping onto her arm. Sighing, she lets him pull her upward, her body sore and aching. She lets go of him as she regains her balance, standing limited on her feet.

Finn speaks from his position on the ground. "I think it might have waited for one of us to come out."

Jake steps forward in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

Blaine begins to assist Rachel to the door, not wanting her to listen to the conversation. She realizes his idea and stops before he can pull her entirely inside, her eyes perked and focused on Jake and Finn's conversation. Blaine tries again to drag her with him, but she refuses, and he stubbornly gives up.

"There's a note." Finn lifts the piece of paper from the demons back, and she wonders why she hadn't noticed it before. Facing the group, he opens it in his hands, his eyes squinting into the darkness.

"Night chasers," he reads, his tone curious. He looks up at them, his eyes flashing to Rachel, their eyes meeting. He returns his attention back to the note. "If you hand the girl over to me now, I will let you live."

She doesn't expect what to do, how to feel. If she should cry or scream or run. If she should whine on how scary this whole situation is, or complain about how she doesn't want to be the 'destined' one.

Her eyes glaze over, and she suddenly notices she is the focus of everyone's attention, waiting for her to break.

She swallows the growing lump in her throat, nodding.

That's all she can do not to break.

xxvii.

Rachel stares continuously at the ceiling above her, her eyes never tempted to close though her body aches in disagreement. She breathes in, briefly shutting her eyes and expects the feeling of tiredness to transform into sleep.

Her hands curl into fists around her comforter in frustration. She wants sleep more than anything, though her mind is constantly buzzing with comments and questions of what the hell is going on. The ruler of the Underworld directly wants her dead now, so what? That's hardly enough to give her a panic.

She opens her eyes, already knowing thats a lie. Sighing, she sits up in her mattress, hovering her feet above the floor. She slips her feet into the slippers she brought from her house, tightening the sweater around her as she exits her bedroom.

She enters the downstairs level, looking for any form of distraction to help her ease her mind. She pauses when she notices a familiar figure sitting outside on the back porch, his legs brought up close to his chest. Biting on her lip, she starts towards the doorway, her eyes focused on the small of his back as she steps outside the sliding door.

She stands behind him, her hands gripping her sweater. "Can't sleep either?"

She can almost see the smile on his face as he shakes his head. Her feet drag her forward as she walks towards him, sitting herself beside him on the porch steps. He turns his face towards her.

"I'm trying not to, actually," Finn admits, his voice bleak.

The hardness in his tone grabs her attention, and she finds herself leaning towards him. "How come?" she wonders aloud.

Finn licks his bottom lip, looking away from her. He shrugs, staring at his wrists as a distraction. "Nothing you need to worry about," he answers, shutting her out.

She narrows her eyes at him. "You're talking to the person who was worried about leaving a single stain on a pile of plates," she reminds him.

He laughs, a small but genuine chuckle. She smiles at him, looking away briefly as the blush began to creep up her neck. Her hands place gently on her cheeks in an attempt to cool her down.

"You're noisy," he points out, a grin still on his face, "you always have to know things, don't you?"

Rachel shrugs, pulling the sweater tighter around her. She doesn't think anyone has ever confronted her about that. Except for Puck, of course, who made it his daily duty to remind her. The comment makes her blush even more, though thankfully the dark night shadows the evidence.

Finn deflates as she turns back to him, his grin disappeared from his features. Sighing softly, he looks up at the dark sky. "I don't trust this place, especially after what happened tonight with the demon. It doesn't feel safe anymore," he confesses, his voice in wonder.

"So what?" she says, "you're on guard duty?"

He shrugs. "I guess you can say that."

Rachel stares at him, thinking. "Well," she begins, racking her brain. Finn turns to look at her. "I don't think you should worry." Her face feels hot as she looks at him. "You're sitting beside the ancestor of Raw Berry right now."

He stares at her, eyes soft and intent on her features. They scan her face, as if he's rating her, and then his eyes land on hers gently. She returns the gaze, tucking her hair behind her ears subconsciously.

Sighing, he pulls himself out of the trance as a small smile ups his corners. Shaking his head at her, he chuckles, "I'm glad you're starting to believe that." His eyes avert to the circles on her wrist. "I was starting to worry you would never accept it."

Her grin barely reaches her eyes. "So was I." She looks at him, and the amount of beautiful qualities on his face takes so much energy she can already feel herself falling asleep. "But now I think there's a reason I'm not so scared anymore."

She watches as his eyebrows click in confusion. "And what's that?"

Though before she can respond, a daze runs through her, and she suddenly feels her eyelids wanting to close, heavy and long. She shuts them briefly to try and power her energy, but she just finds herself falling forward.

She hears Finn release a chuckle in relief. "You're almost asleep," he comments, "let's get you to bed"

His hand grips hers as he helps her stand up, facing her on the second step of the porch. Her eyes flash open. "I can do it myself, Finn." Her eyes blink repeatedly to fuel herself, and she can see Finn's smile in the darkness.

"I know."

xxix.

She almost stumbles on the last step to her bedroom, Finn holding on to her wrist as he balances her on the staircase. Finally exhausted, she realizes that the only way she'll be able to rest is to fill herself with other company and stories. Almost like a distraction. A distraction to keep her from going crazy and fearful. A distraction that will ease her mind and help her sleep.

"You should get some rest," he whispers into the darkness of the hallway, standing in front of her bedroom door. She looks up at him through her heavy eyelids, her vision blurred at the corners except for his face.

She sighs, leaning on her door frame as she faces him. "You should try too," she pushes, already knowing that he'll refuse to. He shakes his head at her, his eyes cascaded as he takes a couple steps towards her.

"I think I'll be okay for the night," he replies, his face lifting up to hers. He's close now, so close that if she leaned forward just a little bit her lips would graze his. She watches as his gaze lowers to her mouth, eyes content on the shape. "You killed a demon with a garbage bag tonight," he reminds her, his breath fanning her face.

He smiles slightly. "Guess you really are the girl we've been waiting for."

Her eyes narrow, squint into the dark shadows on his face as he breathes out the words. Her lips twitch in anticipation, feeling his body moving forward, his mouth mere inches from her kiss. She shouldn't want this, but God does it feel good to feel something again, to feel wanted and accepted.

He shuts himself out before she can discover more of him, pulling back before he can get any closer. He pushes himself away from her, his hands pinning to his side stiffly. He looks at her once more.

"Goodnight," he breathes out, leaving a confused and bewitched Rachel behind him.

xxx.

She almost screams when she turns to her bed.

Blaine is sitting perched on her mattress, his knee bent over another as he keeps his hands formed in his lap. He looks on at her, back straight and demanding as if a father punishing his daughter. He doesn't seem to notice her shock, and begins, "was that Finn you were with?"

Hand still rested over her racing heart, all Rachel can do is nod.

Blaine is obviously disappointed with her answer. "You shouldn't be," he tells her, "he will never allow himself to get close to you."

She remembers the way he shuts himself out before she can see his vulnerability. Shaking away the doubt, she presses on, "why not?"

"That's not something for me to share."

Rachel is surprised by how much this annoys her, the fact that Blaine is basically telling her to never fall for Finn Hudson. She looks away from him to hide the frustration. "Well I don't like him anyways if that's what you were implying," she knows she's lying, and she can see that Blaine does as well.

He looks at her sympathetically. "I loved someone once," he tells her, "his name was Kurt."

Rachel turns to him, eyebrows shot. She's had her suspicions, but it's not exactly a common conversation to ask whether someone was gay or not. She feels her heart steady, pleased that he trusts her enough to be comfortable saying it. She quickly removes her annoyance towards him. "What happened?"

It takes him a while to answer, his posture going impossibly more rigid as he sits straight on her bed. Briefly closing his eyes, he looks away from her, tears evident in his eyes,

"He was killed."

She doesn't know what to think, doesn't know exactly what to say. He doesn't elaborate, and she doesn't ask him to, but something tells her his death included demons and night chasers and darkness.

Her eyes blink away the irritation in her eyes, red sparking her vision. Swallowing thickly, all she can do is stare in sympathy.

It's a while before he recovers enough to speak. "I wouldn't want a relationship if I were you Rachel," he insists, tone shaking as he talks, "not in these times. No one else has ever been in love, no matter how much they want to. And if you do just so happen to fall for someone, well . . ."

Blaine laughs to himself humorously.

"You'll just end up heart broken."

xxxi.

It's been a couple days since Rachel's encounter with Blaine, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't help but feel the attraction towards Finn.

His story about his tragic love with Kurt was terrible, and she knows she doesn't want to be heart broken but it's like Finn is doing it on purpose; with his smirks and his comments. She notices Blaine's disapproving glare every time she's around Finn, and she tries even harder to ignore the feeling that is basically banging on her insides.

"Throw them again," he tells her one day in the training room, his brow crinkled with sweat. She tries not to stare too long at the chiseled chest hidden behind his tight tank, looking down at the daggers in her hands.

Finn has been quite insistent on teaching her techniques necessary in the night chasing business, and that meant a lot of time together and staring at each other. She doesn't want to make it up in her head, but he feels something too, doesn't he?

"Hello," Finn claps his hands, the sound echoing throughout the large interior, "earth to Rachel."

Rachel blinks out of her daze, focusing again on the large knives she's holding. Staring at them, she holds one between her fingers, lifting it in the air. "Steady, just like before," Finn comments, his eyes intent on the blade.

She throws it, the object leaving her grasp in a swift moment as it flies towards its target on the other side of the room. Sighing, she can already see it miss the middle of the circle as it hits the left side, scoring only 10 points.

"Here," Finn walks towards her, barely acknowledging her fail. He stops behind her, one hand reaching forward to wrap around the other dagger. He gives it to her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist as she holds the dagger. His other hand grazes her hip, bringing her closer to him as he creatively wraps himself around her. She feels her cheeks redden.

"Squint your eyes a bit," he orders, his breath fanning the hair beside her ear. It sends shivers down her spine. "Breath deeply." She releases a large amount of air through her nose, chest heaving for effect. "Now . . . throw it."

She does, closing her eyes shut as it disconnects from her hands. She hears the blade slicing through material, but she's too scared to look.

Finn laughs, lowering his hand from hers, though keeps his mouth pressed against her ear. "Open your eyes, silly."

They open, and she immediately smiles when she notices her dagger in the centre of the circle.

xxxii.

They clean up afterwards, putting away the mats and weapons for the next person who wants to use them. She's cleaning the blade of the dagger when he walks up to her, a satisfied smile on his face.

"You did well today," he compliments, maybe the first one he's ever said to her.

Rachel looks up at him, "I wouldn't have been able to do it if it weren't for your constant commentary." She gives him a smile as he chuckles, leaning against one of the punching bags on the floor.

Finn crosses his arms over his chest, eyes taking interest in the floor and its a peaceful and quiet moment between them. She looks at him, not being able to get rid of the constant reminder from Blaine, he will never allow himself to get close to you.

She bites her lip. "Can I ask you a question?"

Finn's head snaps up, staring at her with the answer in his eyes. Feeling bold, she places the daggers in the bin, turning herself fully towards him. She's nervous, obviously, but she has to know before she can discourage any hopeful thoughts and dreams.

"Have you . . . " she pauses, looking for the right words, "have you ever been in a relationship before?"

Surprisingly, he doesn't look bothered or upset. He just shakes his head. "Hookups yes, relationships no."

The answer disappoints her, not only in the way that he's never felt more than just attraction to someone, but just thinking of him being with another girl. She wonders if they were prettier than her. They probably were.

She finds herself pushing more on the subject due to his open response. "Why not?"

He cringes, and she's afraid she has gone too far. He recovers quickly, breathing in deeply. "It's complicated," he says after a beat of silence. His eyes lift to hers as he gazes at her, brown eyes frozen in place. "As much as I want to be with someone, I know that I'll end up hurting them."

"You never know," she whispers, not being able to focus on anything other than the commitment in his eyes.

He smiles sadly at her. "I do."

xxxiii.

"We need to find a warlock."

Santana stands in the centre of the living room, facing the group of night chasers in front of her. She's called on another meeting immediately after dinner, the moon light shinning from the open curtains above the window. Rachel sits comfortably beside Sam, her eyes sneaking a peek at Finn standing at the other side of the room. She looks away when she notices Blaine.

"Why do we need one?" Rachel wonders, interrupting her briefly.

Finn is the one to inform her. "Portals only work one way, and we have to destroy the portal allowing demons to enter our world. A warlock will have to reverse the portal that allows us to enter the Underworld. Once we all return we will destroy the portal, leaving the demons with no way of getting in or out of Underworld."

Rachel stares at him, trying to calculate the words in her head. "So we need a warlock to help us get back home after destroying the portal in Underworld? Then destroy that portal after as well?"

"Yes," Jake answers, looking up from his phone, "and the closest one is Jesse St. James, warlock of Ohio."

"Where's his location?"

Jake thinks for a moment. "On Harold Road, right outside of Lima," he replies, nodding as he speaks.

Santana stares at Jake in thought. She steps forward, hand in the air. "Isn't that - "

"Oh yeah," he responds, grinning a bit, "I've been there once for a party. He's pretty loaded."

Santana nods in satisfaction. She turns to every figure in front of her, looking confident as she makes a plan in her head. Smiling, she raises her hands in the air as if her next few words were obvious.

"Okay," she says, "we go tonight."

xxxiv.

Rachel continues to make a disastrous pile of clothes on her bedroom floor as she claws through her bag for clothes. She can't wear jeans and a t-shirt if a fight breaks out, if they need her assistance. She sighs in frustration when she meets the bottom of her bag.

"Need some help?"

Rachel yelps, whipping around on her knees to see Santana in front of her. Holding a hand over her heart, she stares at the girl in shock as she stands in her room with her black, leather night chaser gear on. Does everybody feel welcome to enter her room whenever they like?

"Yes actually," Rachel says, beginning to put the amount of clothes back in her bag. She holds up a skirt in her hands. "I'm not sure a skirt is appropriate attire for an event like this."

Santana smiles devilishly. "I think I have something that you could wear."

xxxv.

"Try this on."

Rachel watches from her position on the bed as Santana walks from her closet, carrying a whole bunch of black, leather and spandex. She throws them at Rachel, who gasps in response. She looks at Santana in annoyance.

She waves her hand at her. "We don't have all day."

Rachel sighs, removing her current clothes and placing them on the desk beside Santana's dresser. She slips the tank top on, followed by a leather jacket that covers her arms and stomach. The black spandex fit tightly on her, matching the beaded belt boots that she tries on her feet.

"Holy shit," Santana breathes out, staring at Rachel's final appearance. "You look smokin'."

Rachel blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair. She doesn't think she's ever seen this side of Santana before, the fun, playful side despite her serious character when discussing plans and issues. She holds the belt in her hands, wrapping it around her waist.

Santana walks towards her. "You've got your brother's good looks, that's for sure." She smiles as Rachel rolls her eyes, feeling a little more comfortable around the care free girl in front of her.

"I'm assuming he was always excited whenever you guys went on a mission," she guesses, remembering her brothers determination. She sits down on the bed, smiling to herself as she gets lost in the thought of him.

Santana leans against her desk. "Excited? That's an understatement."

Rachel grins, sadness starting to sweep in as she thinks about him. She fidgets with the end of her belt, picking at the beads that cover it. Her hair stays loose around her, covering her face as she looks down.

"I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot," Santana admits after a moment of silence, "I know this must be a lot to take in. I shouldn't have judged you."

Rachel shrugs. "I was a whining brat," she laughs, "even I became annoyed with myself."

Santana is silent for a moment, and when Rachel looks up, she's trapped by Santana's eyes on her. Her fingers play with each other as she stares wordlessly, though not really seeing anything. "I'm really happy you're here," she says, nodding to shake the sadness away, "you had a really great brother."

Rachel smiles. "I know."

xxxvi.

Santana orders her to get her daggers from the weapon room, telling her they never know what they can encounter. She enters the room, her arms wrapped around her leather coated body. The boots she's wearing aren't as loud as she expected, and she steps towards the platform in front of the daggers, more than several different types of sizes and styles in front of her.

Rachel sighs, reaching forward to grasp the simple one she's been practicing with. She holds it in her hands, twisting it between her fingers as she remembers the day she first threw it at the Prite in her house. Hopeless and desperate, the dagger sliced directly into the stomach, shocking Rachel with her sudden coordination.

"Santana's clothes again?"

Rachel turns around, already recognizing the voice as she finds herself facing Finn. He leans against the opening of the room, also decked in black leather that fits tightly to his sculptured body. She finds herself blinking wildly at him, letting out a nervous laugh.

"I'm not exactly sure where to put these," she comments, holding up the daggers in her hands to show him.

Finn smiles, walking towards her in all his glory. He stops in front of her, his skin barely grazing hers as he takes the daggers from her grasp. "You just slide them in the belt," he informs her. His finger wraps around the belt at her waist band, using it to pull her closer towards him. She feels herself taking a couple steps in his direction, almost flush against him.

"Make sure they're in tightly." He slides the daggers into place, and she knows she should be watching what he's doing but all she can do is stare up at him, watches the crinkle of his eyes as he focuses on her belt. "Don't want one falling out and cutting you during battle."

Finn makes one final adjustment to the belt before lifting his head up, and she's suddenly aware of the close proximity. His breath slightly fans across her face, his eyes soft and intent.

It takes a while to find her voice, and when she does, all she can manage to say is, "thanks."

He doesn't seem to hear her, or otherwise chooses not to as his eyes bore into hers. She feels trapped, not being able to pull herself from the connection between them, his hand still on her hip.

"Ahem."

Finn pulls apart from her, realization evident in his eyes as he steps back. She shakes her head, shaking off the feelings she shouldn't be having. They turn to see Jake at the opening of the room, his arms crossed over his chest.

"It's time to go," he reminds them, a playful smirk on his features.

Brushing her shirt down, Rachel nods.

"Right," they say in unison, walking out of the room like nothing happened.

xxxvii.

She finds herself squished between Sam and Blaine in the backseat of the van.

"This guy better help us out," Sam grumbles out, his black gloves playing the blonde streaks in his hair. He turns to Blaine, leaning forward to look past Rachel at him. "Do you think he will?"

Jake laughs from the front seat. "Doubt it, he's pretty arrogant."

Santana growls from the driving seat, hands fiercely pinching the wheel. She looks at the group behind her in the rearview mirror, eyes cold. "No negativity allowed," she says, the playfulness Rachel saw in her bedroom vanished, "he's our only shot."

Blaine looks back at Sam, smiling reassuringly. "I'm sure he will," he tells him, being the wise young man that he is, "he'll have to once he sees that Rachel Berry exists. He'll be absolutely fascinated with her."

All the while Finn doesn't say anything, but she can notice a hint of annoyance he gives at the last comment.

xxxviii.

It's bigger than she expected.

It takes about 20 minutes to arrive at Jesse St. James mansion, the exterior surrounded by flowers and long strands of grass. She's surprised there isn't a doorman waiting to confirm their entrance, but something tells her Jesse knows they are here. He is a warlock after all.

"Wow," Blaine whispers from beside her, his head peeking out the window at the building above. Created by bricks, the mansion stands powerfully amongst them, even bigger than the art museum. Large windows match the grand place, marked with glass doors and openings.

Rachel doesn't even realize she got out of the van until she hears the noise of shoes against pebbles. She looks down, her boots crunching his driveway full of stylish rocks. One of them probably cost more than her house.

"Let's go."

She walks up with the rest of the group, standing closely to Blaine as he leads her towards the porch steps. They reach the large frame of the door, and before they can even knock, the warlock appears, opening it in a pure white suit.

"What a marvelous treat," he chips, his curly hair brushed back in a pony tail. She takes a glance at Jake, who is just as surprised as she is at his warm welcoming. "I was starting to believe nobody liked to visit me anymore."

He ushers them inside, his white gloves patting all their backs as they enter his home. She thinks they're in the opening hallway, but she can't tell because the length and width of the sequence is as big as her house.

"I love having people over," Jesse mumbles out, his fingers knotted together. His gentle and open hospitality begins to make her believe he is willing to help, and a hope awakens inside her. He takes a look at the six standing before him, his eyes analyzing their outfits. "And which night chasers am I meeting today?"

Blaine steps forward, reaching out to meet him. "Blaine Anderson sir," he says while shaking the warlock's hand, "and this is Finn, Sam, Santana and Jake." He gestures to each individual while saying their name, and Jesse smiles in delight. He then cocks his head over, his eyes intent on Rachel, focused. "I believe you forgot someone, Mr. Anderson."

The group turns to look at her, as if expecting something. She looks at them, biting the bottom of her lip as she meets Jesse's eyes a couple feet away. He waits patiently as Rachel steps towards him, hands behind her back. She breathes out, knowing this will make a reaction.

"Rachel Berry, sir."

Jesse stays silent, though his eyes widen in surprise. He stares at her, slightly shaking his head as the statement seems to shock him. He reaches forward to pick her hand behind her back, holding it softly in his. "Rachel Berry," he rolls the name on his tongue sweetly, "the girl destined to save us all." She watches as he leans forward, his lips plush as he presses them against her hand. She shivers. "It is an honour seeing you again."

Rachel slides her hand back. "Again?"

"Oh yes, child," he pats her on the cheek, playing with her hair. "Will and Emma came to my house once when I was very young, frantic about a little girl by the name of Rachel. They were desperate to split you and your brother apart you see, thought it would be safer, so they asked my parents if they could take you in."

Rachel looks back at the rest of them, though their expressions are set in confusion as well. Blaine shrugs at her, hearing the story for the first time as well. She turns back to Jesse. "And what did they say?"

Jesse releases a shrill laugh. "Why no of course! Do you know how much blood has been spilt trying to find you?"

Rachel blinks, the statement creating uneasy feelings in her stomach. Finn steps forward as he recognizes her uncomfortableness, pushing Rachel behind him. "We need your help, sir. We are planning on destroying the portal in Master Hawk's chamber, though we need your assistance to get back to earth. We were wondering if you are willing to work with us."

Rachel peeks from behind his shoulder, and she watches as Jesse's eyes avert from Finn's to hers. He smiles sadly. "On one condition," he moves around Finn to Rachel, hands on her shoulders, "my friend is terribly is sick. She has a particular interest in you Rachel. It would be grand of you if you could introduce yourself."

Rachel nods, despite the disapproving look Finn is giving her. This could be their only shot.

"Show me."

xxxix.

Jesse guides them through his house, giving the six of them a small tour of his home as he leads them to his friend.

"I don't trust this."

Rachel looks up to see Finn walking beside her, his look heavy and worrisome. She barely sees Finn worried.

She offers him a reassuring smile. "It's fine Finn. He's our only chance, all he wants to do is show me his friend."

Finn opens his mouth to respond, but before he can see anything Jesse stops, turning towards them. He grins cheekily, gesturing to the doors beside him. "She's in there," he tells them, "oh she'll be so happy to see you." Jesse snaps his fingers and the doors swing open.

Rachel steps forward but Finn pushes her back, walking in front of her. He keeps his hand near the swords on his belt as he walks through the opening, followed by Rachel and the others. Once they've all stepped inside, Rachel analyzes the room for the sick woman, but there's no where in sight. She turns to Jesse.

He smiles at them. "I'm sorry my dear, but they are giving an award for whoever catches you."

And with that he closes the door with a loud lock, and before Rachel can really panic, she hears Finn curse under his breath and point to the ceiling. She looks up, watching as a crowd of demons descend from the ceiling on an invisible string.

She looks at her companions, preparing to fight for their life.

What has she done?

xl.

"Jesse!"

Rachel kicks at the door as the demons of about 20 continue to make their way down. She watches as Finn takes his swords out, eyes focused and calculating on the army of demons above him. She has to fix this.

"Open the door!" she screams, knowing it's no use, "please!"

She hopes her cries of help might change his motives, but the doors stay closed shut. She breathes heavily against the wood, hating herself for trusting him, for not listening to the warning signs. She turns around guiltily, hearing the familiar sound of clicking from the demons. Her fingers caress the daggers as the demons make their final crawl, landing on the ground.

A chorus of squeals echo off the walls as the creatures stalk towards them, teeth baring and claws pointing.

Rachel steps towards them, just as prepared as she takes out her dagger, ready to fight.

"Go!" Blaine calls them forward, and she watches as he sends the opening kill at a demon in the front row, his knife slicing through its head in a clean shot. The army goes barbaric, rushing towards them on their pointed claws, slimy skin brushing against each other.

Rachel runs, her dagger attached to her hand. She barely makes it to the rows before one of them knocks her over, jumping high enough to push her to the ground. She coughs and rolls over, dagger pinching her skin as she looks around for the attacker. Looking up, she finds it on top of her, leaning forward. She screams as she sends the dagger into its throat, black goo pouring on her from its wound. It collapses next to her, squealing and thrashing as it airs out.

1 down, 19 more to go.

"Rachel! Look out!"

She blinks upwards, eyes widening when she sees a large claw coming down on her. Reaching forward, she grabs the dagger from the dead demon beside her and summersaults forward. She turns on her knees to the demon behind her, throwing the dagger at her target. It hits centre of the face, just like the circle in the training centre.

Her eyes can barely register the chaos around her. She watches as Sam pulls a knife on a demon he's facing, sending it directly into its stomach as it gargles black blood. Her head stays dizzy, red lines staining against her skin as she looks at the destruction she's caused. The death they're about to face.

A hand grasps her wrist, and she's suddenly twisted towards a muscular body. She gasps out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, feeling the graze of claws brush against the back of her arm. Her eyes squeeze close as she hears the sound of blade entering flesh, feeling the spray of the black goo press against her face.

"Pay attention," Finn growls, his fingers still wrapped against her wrist. She looks up at him, the blood plastered to his face and it makes her feel more shameful than before. Her eyes follow his sword as a distraction to the dead demon beside them, barely twitching.

"I - "

Rachel is unable to finish her sentence when she sees an oncoming demon behind him. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him around her, free hand grasping another dagger from her belt. She throws it quickly, sending it through its neck as black blood pumps from its flesh. She pulls Finn back in front of her, a smirk on her face.

"Pay attention."

He smiles.

The sound of doors squeaking open grabs their attention, and Rachel looks away from him to face the opening of the room. She watches in shock as Jesse stands before them, a grim look on his face.

Finn removes himself from Rachel, his hands hard as he unwraps them from her wrist. He stalks to Jesse, Rachel following behind him.

"You backstabbing, twisted little - "

He stops short when he's bounced back by an invisible force. Coughing out, he holds his nose as his hand feels the clear glass dividing Jesse from the rest of them. Rachel walks forward, her fingers touching the magic.

"I'm impressed," Jesse says, nodding in approval.

Finn and Rachel look at each other in confusion. "What?"

Jesse laughs as if he just realized they aren't in on the joke. "That was a test my dear." He points behind them to the room of demons. "Look behind you."

They do, both them turning to the room that once stained with blood and death. Confusion clouds her focus when she notices the room is clear of any demons, no alive ones, no dead ones, just empty daggers and swords lying on the ground that was once in the demons body. Santana, Blaine, Sam and Jake look around them helplessly, turning their heads as if anticipating more demons to come.

"An illusion spell," Finn whispers out, turning to Rachel. He reaches forward, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek. She shivers. "Look," he points to his hands, and she looks down expecting to see blood, but theres nothing. She stares at Finn wordlessly.

"An illusion spell it is, Mr. Hudson. I was possessing your mind for the past few minutes to make you believe there were demons," he begins, explaining his madness. Rachel turns to him, disgust shone in her eyes. "I will obviously be in danger if I join you. I just wanted to see how you would manage to keep me safe. I applaud you, you succeeded."

Rachel gapes at him. "So you'll help us?"

Jesse steps forward, the shield that held Finn back broken as he walks into the room. He stands closely to Rachel, and she notices Finns finger itching to punch him. His white-gloved hand comes up to hold her cheek.

"Of course my brave one," he whispers, "you can expect me to give you my full services any time you need them."

xli.

They arrive back at the museum shortly after, each one of them silent on their way in. She isn't proud of leading them into a trap, even though it was fake. She shouldn't have trusted him so easily, been so desperate.

Finn throws his leather jacket on the couch. "I don't trust that guy."

He's the first one to break the silence, and they turn their heads to look at him. Rachel turns back when she notices the angry glint in his eyes, staring wordlessly at her once blood-stained hands.

Santana steps forward. She places a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his skin comfortingly. "I know you don't," she confirms, shrugging, "but he can help us. He's our only shot - "

"At what?" He staggers backwards, sounding broken, "winning? Surviving this war? We can't pretend that all of us will live. Look at Puck."

Rachel flinches from her where she stands. Her eyes lift to meet his swimming ones, and he looks away from her. He swats Santana's hand from his broad shoulder, dropping his swords in a pile at his feet. Silently, he gives everyone one final glance before stalking miserably out of the room.

"Finn - "

Rachel steps forward, discouraging Santana with a wave of her hand. "No," she whispers, "let me." And she steps out of the room as well, following Finn into the emotions he's worked so hard to hide.

xlii.

She hears his grunts echo off the walls of the training room, arms pumping and vicious as he pounds his fists into the punching bag. She bites her lip as she watches the sweat dribble from his forehead, dripping onto the white tank top he switched into. She wonders if this is how he cools down, how he controls himself. Taking a couple more steps forward, she appears in the light shinning above them, exposing herself.

His eyes flicker to hers, shaking his head, "go away, Rachel."

Stubbornly, she crosses her arms across her chest, closing the distance between them. "No," she says confidently, stopping the punching bag in her hands as he takes one final swing.

Finn stares at her. He throws his gloves to the ground, lifting the white tank top to his face, exposing his toned stomach. He wipes a pile of sweat from his face, shutting off Rachel's gaze as he rests the material back over his body.

"Fine," he grumbles irritably, "allow me."

He begins to back away, and Rachel becomes more determined, saying the one thing she knows will make him vulnerable.

"Tell me about my brother."

He stops, hearing the desperation in her voice as she calls after him. She watches the tense nerves crawl up his body at the mention of her late brother, and when he turns around to face her, she notices the emotion shinning behind his eyes.

He swallows thickly. "He was my best friend," he tells her, his voice heavy. He watches as she walks towards him, leaning back on the shelf of weights in front of him. "He was for nine years."

Rachel's eyes scrunch in confusion. "I don't remember you," she says honestly. His face is definitely one to never forget, and she's sure she would have recalled meeting him at some point.

Finn laughs humorlessly. "No you wouldn't." He clears his voice, looking down at the scars on his hands. "My parents were just murdered by demons when I met your brother at training camp. I had no one, no where to go. I was expecting to live by myself when your parents offered me a place to stay before I turned sixteen, which is the legal age in Night Chaser years. So they helped train me and gave me a small house to stay in. They didn't want me living with them because then it wouldn't confuse their little, nine-year-old daughter Rachel."

Her eyes widen. Looking back, she remembers the looks her parents gave Finn when they saw him, like they trusted him, they cared for him. He was like a son to them, someone that they took in and trained, and she had no idea this was even happening.

"Puck would always come by, complain about you singing too loud or smiling too much," he grins a little at the memory, "everyone always told me about you, and I didn't even know you were, but I knew everything about you. Eventually, Puck would sneak me in the house sometimes and I would see you from the opening in the doorway, but you never saw me, never knew I existed."

Rachel steps towards him, the boy she never knew about. Her eyes lift to his warm ones, soft and comforting. She waits for him to back away, ignore the attraction and walk away but he doesn't, he stays.

His eyes don't leave hers as he speaks. "Then Puck would drag me to your recitals, to your competitions, I even went to your grade eight graduation. I was always in the back but," his voice lowers into a whisper, gentle and sweet, "I was always there."

She feels the familiar feeling as he breathes out the last words, sparking shivers throughout her body. Her eyes bore into his, the boy who was always there in the background, always made her feel safe despite the distance. She wraps her hand around his, fingers curling between his intimately.

"Finn," she whispers, relishing in the feeling of his thumb stroking the surface of her palm, "he didn't die in a car accident, did he?"

He must have been expecting the question because his expression doesn't change. Sighing, he briefly closes his eyes in preparation of answering her. Swallowing thickly, he opens them, and she's suddenly scared to hear the truth about the death of her brother.

"We were getting demon activity outside of Columbus, so they sent your brother and I to go check it out," he begins, voice attempting to be strong, "when we got there, we were confronted by the strongest demon ever created, a Magron. We were stupid enough to think we could kill it, but we were young and confident. I didn't take long before it sank its teeth into Puck's throat."

"Puck!"

Finn moves to the side as the oncoming tail of the Magron slams against the pavement. His eyes peel away from the creature as he rushes toward Puck, his eyes clouded with pain. He catches him before he falls, arms secure around his bleeding friend as the demon cries out for attention.

"Come on bud, move it." Sword in hand he pushes Puck into an alley too small for the demon to enter, and it squeals hastily in the background. Puck groans uncomfortably, and it doesn't take long before he collapses onto the ground, energy sucking out.

Finn crouches next to him, his fingers wrapping around his neck to keep the blood from running. "Don't give up on me now," he orders through his broken voice, "let's get you back to the museum, come on."

He pushes on Puck but he doesn't budge, keeping his position on the ground. He waves at him in discouragement. "Bastard got me with his teeth," he grumbles, "I'll be fine, just let me take a nap."

Finn's eyes shine. He knows what he's doing, he's heard of this strategy before. Trying to reassure their partner that they're alright so they can die peacefully without any panic, any wordiness. Finn shakes his head, grabbing the collar of Puck's leather jacket. He brings him up, forehead almost touching his. "If you're going to die just tell me," he demands.

Puck's eyes flash open. He looks up at him with a laugh. "Always get straight to the point, don't you Huddy?" He laughs again, though the chuckle is interrupted as blood spews from his mouth, spraying Finn. He coughs as his breath hallows out, barely breathing.

"Puck - "

"We don't have time for goodbyes," he whispers, and it's all he can do to save his voice, "I want you to do something."

Finn nods, his eyes pricking irritably. He removes his hand from Puck's neck, letting the blood flow out endlessly. He's a night chaser, he's used to death, he shouldn't be on the edge of crying. He should be strong.

Puck gurgles silently. "I want you to protect Rachel. I don't care if she'll make you want to rip your hair out. You protect my sister Finn, not just because of the prophecy but because she's so much better than this world. So much better than all of us."

He doesn't mention to Rachel that it took another five minutes of pain and suffering before he died, how he cried out in agony his last few moments of life. He leaves it there, though she cries anyways.

Her face looks broken as he finishes the story, eyes pinching together as he retells her the event of his last night. He watches as the first tear slips down her cheek, the droplet running smoothly down her skin.

He reaches forward, his free hand curving around the shape of her face. Her eyes widen hastily as his thumb rubs against the surface, wiping away the tear, trying to rid her of sadness.

"You should get some rest," he whispers afterwards when he realizes the intimacy of his action, "we had a long day today."

Rachel nods up at him, and this time she's the one who leaves.

xliii.

Rachel stares at the ceiling, hands folded behind her head. Her eyes focus on the various creaks branching out, trying to distract her from anything but the visions of her dyeing brother.

Killed by a demon. That doesn't give her a lot of confident when a demon ruler is after her.

She rolls over on the mattress and stuffs her face in her pillow. Why couldn't he still be here? Why couldn't he be comforting her right now, protecting her instead of making Finn have to?

Finn. The boy hidden from her. The boy who grew up by himself. She's still not sure why he's afraid to love, whether it's because of his troubled past or something else but she doesn't care. All she knows is that Finn is finally opening himself up to her, maybe letting her in, and that is the biggest progression she's ever made with him since she's been here.

It's crazy how Will and Emma shielded her from this. From her dead birth parents to being an ancestor of a night chaser destined to save the world. She grew up thinking life was as peachy and perfect, unaware of the death and chaos around her.

Her phone buzzes on her night stand, and Rachel lifts her face from the plush pillow to grasp it. Her eyes squint in the darkness as words appear on the screen.

"I miss you."

She sighs, looking up and seeing the text message from Quinn Fabray.

How could Quinn miss her though? When she doesn't even know the real her? When Rachel isn't even sure of who she is?

She throws the phone back on the furniture, returning to her thoughts on the lies and secrets of her life.

xliv.

Rachel walks down the staircase leading to the kitchen, stretching her arms above her head. She watches as all three heads in the room turn to her, certain admiration on their faces.

"Good morning," Santana chirps, a small grin on her face, "how did you sleep?"

Rachel releases a silent yawn as she makes her way over to the counter, resting her elbows on them. "Pretty well." She lies immediately. She was awake the whole night, thinking of her life and what she never knew about it. She can tell Santana knows, but she smiles anyways.

"Would you like some coffee?"

Rachel turns to Jake as he calls at her from the cupboards. Shaking her head, she declines. "I'm okay," she says, analyzing the scene around her. Is it her or do they seem a lot more interested in her than usual? "I'm guessing you guys are feeling good today?"

She sits beside Blaine on a stool, her head falling in her hands. Santana looks at her other two companions, nodding in encouragement. "We just wanted to thank you actually," she says, seriousness set in, "first for sticking with us after all your near death experiences, and second . . . " She leans forward, "for talking to Finn. He doesn't usually trust people, but it's nice he has someone else to talk to."

Rachel blushes, her head ducking. She shyly smiles, accepting her thanks. When she turns back though, she can catch Blaine's warning glare beside her.

xlv.

"Dude, get up."

Finn rubs his fists hastily against his eyes. He throws off the pillow that Sam chucked at him, sitting up right in his mattress. He turns to the blonde man at his door frame in annoyance. "What time is it?" he asks, followed by a yawn.

"Almost 9," Sam answers, checking his watch, "you told me you would train with me."

Finn waves his hand at him in agreement. "I will," he says, lifting himself from the bed. He stretches, pulling off his shirt in the process. He winces as the material scrapes against some of his previous scars he's earned during battle, and the emotional ones, the one he doesn't usually share.

Except for last night.

It's Rachel's fault for getting him to open up. Her and her brown eyes, her curly locks, the remarks that remind him of his late best friend. She's much more different than the girl he grew up learning about, than the girl he officially met a couple weeks ago.

He knows he shouldn't care about her so much, knows how much pain it will eventually cause her. But maybe it's worth it. Everyone dies at some point.

"Finn?" Sam's voice catches him, his voice free of playfulness, "you okay bud?"

Finn turns to him, half a smile on his face. "I don't know . . . " he sits back down on the mattress, his face falling in his hands. He rubs his fingers against the surface. "It's Rachel."

He remembers what Puck would always tell him, to never be afraid to fall in love, to never give it up. He's always longed for it, but the voice in his head constantly reminded him that -

"You're falling for her, dude."

Finn laughs humorously. He's never confronted his feelings about her before, but he knows its true the second they leave Sam's mouth. Finn Hudson, falling in love with the girl he admired from a far, his best friend's sister.

He briefly closes his eyes. "I should stop."

Sam chews on the bottom of his lip as he gazes at his feet. He shrugs his shoulders mindlessly. "Who knows Finn," he pauses, shaking his blonde hair, "prophecies don't always come true."

xlvi.

She leaves the kitchen with a full stomach, Santana pushing her to eat all three pancakes that she made her. They quickly brushed off the subject of Finn after she thanked her, instead mentioning how she kicked ass at Jesse St. James' house. It was nice, the feeling she got when they said she killed it, like she could actually be a good warrior.

"Rachel."

She turns, watching as Blaine walks up to her, a small grin plastered on his face. She returns it, though not exactly sure why. He meets her where she stands in the hallway. "I was hoping to get you alone," he tells her, a little breathless.

Her eyes squint in confusion. "Do you need anything?"

He acts quickly, his hands in the air and waving at her. "No, no," he stutters as if he's worried of offending her. "No. I wanted to apologize actually."

"Oh." Rachel nods, trying to keep up.

Blaine bites on his bottom lip, rubbing his hands together. His thick eyebrows scrunch towards each other as he looks up at her. "I know you care about Finn," he begins, ignoring her surprised expression, "and I know that I've been cynical about the two of you, based on my knowledge of Finn and his . . . situation." He chooses the last word carefully, and Rachel believes that it must be more than what she thinks. "But I've came here to say that it isn't my decision on who you can or can't be with. Just try to be careful."

Rachel smiles sweetly. "Blaine," she laughs, "we aren't anything. You don't have to worry about that."

Blaine shakes his head, stepping forward. He rests his hands on the top of his shoulders lightly. "Think about it Rachel," he whispers low enough for only her to hear, "I can't say anything, I know he wouldn't want it but just try and figure it out yourself. He cares about you, he does, but . . . "

She leans closer. "But what?"

"Listen, I know you're caught in the middle of the war, and there are demons after you, but the one thing you should worry about is protecting your heart." He rubs his thumbs against the surface of her skin, and it reminds her of the way her brother used to comfort her. "You're Puck's little sister, the youngest of the pack," he sighs, shrugging, "I'm just trying to look out for you."

Rachel smiles tearfully, battering her eyes. Without thinking she reaches forward, her arms locking around his neck in an embrace. He laughs, patting her back as his arms wound around her waist. She's attacked with visions of her brother, how he treated her when she was upset. She thinks of Blaine as someone like that.

"Thanks Blaine," she whispers, squeezing him tighter before she lets go. "I think I can count on you."

He shrugs. "You know what they say, the best men are the gay men."

xlvii.

"It's take out day!"

Santana runs into the kitchen, followed by Sam who is carrying a hat behind her. She faces Rachel and Blaine who are sitting on the couch, their heads turned towards the smiling Latina.

Blaine winks at Rachel happily, who stares on in confusion. "We have take out day once a month," he explains as Finn and Jake enter the room, "we choose two names from a hat to go get whatever food they want. It's kind of a break from San's cooking."

"Heard that Anderson!"

Rachel stifles a giggle, watching as Santana turns to the hat beside her. She waves at it magically. "Ladies and Gentlemen," she begins, "welcome to our monthly Take Out Day, where two lucky winners will be able to choose whatever restaurant they want."

Jake chirps. "Except for McDonald's!"

Santana hushes him. "Anyways," she rolls her eyes, her hand digging into the hat full of scraped paper. Rachel watches anxiously, she hasn't had take out in forever. "The first night chaser selected is . . . Rachel Berry."

They clap in exaggeration, and Rachel lets out a laugh. "Thank you," she plays along. She catches Finn's eyes, and he raises his eyebrows, winking.

"The next fortunate soul is," Santana pulls out another scrap, unrolling it between her fingers, "Finn Hudson."

What are the odds.

xlviii.

Finn insists on taking the bus, claiming that he doesn't want to drive or think for the rest of the night. She laughs at him nervously, alone with him for the first time since the night in the training room. She follows him anyways, and so that's how she finds herself squished beside him on an empty route heading to Breadstix.

"Tell me something no one else knows."

She turns to him, her eyebrows crunching together. "I'm sorry?"

He shifts on the bus seat, his body turning so that he's facing her on an angle. His eyes set on hers he smiles blindly, a playful side she's never seen before. "It's only fair," he teases, "I told you my secrets, now you tell me yours."

Rachel laughs, shaking her head. Her hands fumble with the end of her shirt, fingers twisting between the material. "You're crazy," she breathes out, letting her breath slowly fan out of her.

He stays silent, waiting for her to give in. She looks up into his patient eyes, so secure and safe and she knows he won't judge her. Like she didn't judge him. Biting her lip, she glances briefly at the window to give her the strength.

"I want to be a singer."

She can almost hear Finn smile, and when she turns back to him, her suspicions are confirmed as he shows his sly grin. "Really?"

Rachel chuckles nervously, "I mean I've been singing my whole entire life, but no one's ever taken me seriously for it, never thought I would want to do it forever. They just thought it was something to fill my time with." She pauses, rethinking her decision to tell him as he stares at her silently. He gives her a nod in encouragement. "I never told anyone, knowing that they would just shut me down tell me that it's impossible to be successful in an industry like that. So when people asked what I wanted to do, I would lie and say a doctor."

Finn quickly rings the bell for their stop, and he pulls her up from the seat. She follows him out of the bus, shouting a quick 'thank you' to the driver. They walk closer together, Finn facing her as they make their way down the isolated streets. "What about college?" he asks, his eyes reflecting the moon in the night sky.

Rachel shrugs. "My parents constantly asked me why I didn't apply to universities, and so I would say that I was too depressed after Puck's death, that I wanted to take a couple months off. Which wasn't exactly a lie, except I wanted to apply for Theatre Art." She turns to walk in front of him, facing him as she carefully takes her steps backwards. "But if I do end up saving the universe, I want to go to New York."

He grins. "New York?"

"New York!" she shouts, turning away from him. She closes her eyes, imaging the lights Times Square gives, the posters of Broadway and upcoming films. She squeals happily. "New York! New York! New - "

"Sh," Finn reaches forward, his hand cupping the back of her head as his other rests on top of her mouth. They both laugh, his body sending vibrations throughout hers. "You're going insane." He releases her, his hand slowly slipping past her cheek as he pins it to her side. Reddening, she looks away, even as he says, "I've heard you sing though, in the shower, at your competitions. You can do it Rach."

Her stomach flutters at the nick name. "Thanks." She breathes out the shivers she receives from his compliment, steadying herself on her feet. She turns so that she's again walking beside him, her small frame almost hiding behind his larger one. "How about you? Got anything else you'd like to share?"

"Actually," he turns to look behind him, his neck craning to get a shot of something in the distance. He looks back to her, his voice in a low whisper. "You see that man walking in the red sweater?"

Rachel looks. It's dark, so she can't see much except but the colour of his clothing but she can tell he's bigger. His hoody rests casually on top of his head, giving the appearance of just a normal guy talking a stroll down the street, but the edge in Finn's voice tells her otherwise.

"Yeah," she confirms when she notices him.

"He's been following us since we got off," he explains, his voice husky in her ear, "he's a demon, powerful enough to manipulate human transformation though you can still smell it on him, even from here. He's alone, not harmful, and we're going to have some fun with that."

The playfulness in his tone surprises her. "We're not going to kill it?"

Finn laughs and shakes his head. "Didn't I tell you?" he grabs her wrist, and Rachel has a feeling his plan involves a lot of running and hiding, "I don't want to think for the rest of the night."

xlix.

Rachel giggles as Finn drags her around a corner, his fingers folded between hers. He pulls her against the wall, pushing her deeper into the shadows of the night. She can hear the steps of the demon gain, faster padding against the pavement. Finn sneaks a peek to see if he is following, quickly dipping back and turning back to Rachel in excitement.

"Go, go!" He orders her to run down the dark alley, and she does, Finn following behind. She looks back to see the demon chasing after them, the human body eyes glowing a solid red. She squeals hastily, adrenaline pumping through her.

Finn grabs a hold of her hand again, turning her sharply around another corner at the end of the alley. He pushes her backwards into a shallow opening squeezed in the alley. Her body hits the brick wall harshly, and she releases a grunt as his body presses against hers, his hands held up on either side of her head.

"Is he - "

He scrambles, his finger grazing her lips as he gestures for her to stay quiet. She does, trying not to think so hard on the way his body curves against his, how his chest pushes on hers. She closes her eyes, drifting.

It's a couple more minutes before he speaks again. "Okay," he whispers, breathing out slowly, "I think he's gone."

Rachel smiles up at him. "Look at you," she says lowly, despite his clearing signal, "you've taken the bus, outran a demon . . . is there anything else you'd like to do tonight that doesn't involve thinking?"

He stares at her, eyes soft as he gazes. It's dark out, so she can't see much of his expression as she looks at him. "Yeah," he responds, his voice matching the vulnerability in his eyes. He removes one of his hands from the brick wall behind her, reaching forward to rest it tenderly against her cheek. She's sure he feels the heat in her face as she blushes, his thumb gliding against the skin.

Rachel remains speechless, words seeming to be hard to get out as he lowers his head. She shivers as she feels his forehead touch hers, his hand tightening around her face. She leans up, her lips aching. "I probably shouldn't do this," he whispers, his hand brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Rachel shakes her head. "Don't think about it."

And he doesn't, because the next moment he pulls her face towards his and kisses her.

Finally.

She gasps, her body tingling in the intense feelings she always felt when she was around him. Her arms slowly drape up his shoulders to lock around his neck, pulling him closer against her as her head swims.

His lips stay still on hers, barely moving. She worries that he's beginning to regret it, that he's starting to think again. Before she can pull back, he pushes his lips onto hers once more, reacting another spark inside her, one that she's never felt during a kiss before.

His hands are warm as they caress her face, fingers curling into the nape of her hair. She whimpers as he slides his tongue inside her mouth, soft and warm and welcoming. She wonders if he's ever been this gentle with a girl before, if he's ever held her like she might break. The way his fingertips glide against her skin tells her he hasn't, that he believes she is too fragile to be curled in his embrace.

"Finn," she breathes out as he trails kisses leading to her throat. She holds him close as he nibbles on the skin, his hand moving to cup the back of her head. She fists her hands into the collar of his shirt, her lips aching as she anticipates his kisses. Not being able to wait, she cups his face in her hands and turns him towards her, kissing him again in the only way that will satisfy her.

His actions escalate from there, the amount of tension built between the two of them seeming to control him. He bends down and rounds his fingers against her thighs, picking her up and pinning her against the brick wall. Her legs wrap around his waist as she falls onto the wall behind her, his close body keeping her from slipping.

Rachel sighs as his movements become jerky, needy, her back arching into his frame. Her hands can't seem to stay in one place, fisting his hair and shirt material. She never knew how much she wanted him, as if she was in a deep sleep her whole life and he suddenly woke her up with a kiss.

Finn breaks apart from her, his breathing heavy and longing. He keeps his eyes closed, forehead swiping across hers as he hides his face in the contour of her neck and shoulder. His hands stay still, lips unmoving, his body separating from hers so she can slide down from the wall.

She's lost him, she knows it. She can see the hesitation in his muscles as he untangles his limbs from hers. She can hear the regret in his sighs as he leans his forehead against the cold brick wall.

She tries to calm herself as she watches him. Her hand stays steady on her racing chest, her lips still tingling from their shared kisses. Her graze tries to grasp him, but his eyes are closed in disappointment. She reaches for him, not giving up.

"Finn, I - "

The base of a club is suddenly thrown into view, drastically slamming against Finn's head. She screams, her hands flying to her mouth as Finn collapses to the ground in front of her, weightless and unmoving. Without thinking she bends towards him, her finger massaging the wet wound. "Finn - "

The wooden shape of the club crunches with the bones of her jaw. The impact causes her to land harshly on the concrete, her body snapping in pain. Tears spring at the edge of her eyes as she feels the pain consume her. Her fingers gently touch her jaw, wincing as she releases a sharp hiss.

Rachel looks up at the attacker, noticing the same red sweater she outran earlier today. His blonde hair gives the appearance of an innocent teenager, but she can see him better now, see the devil eyes he tries to hide behind, the claws that are beginning to expose him. Her eyes slowly scan to Finn, lying helplessly on the ground, and she forces herself up.

Her hands clench angrily as she goes for the first blow, her punch hitting the side of his face as he attempts to move out of the way. He's fast, even in his human form, and he grabs her fist. He smiles at her as she tries to pull her hand free, a devilish glow surrounding him as he squeezes her fingers, crushes it slowly in his hand.

She yelps, pulling backwards. Her whimpers echo the empty alley way as she trips backwards into the brick wall. Her fingers feel lifeless in her hand as she holds them, bones broken and hanging. Blood pulses through her as she tries to regain her strength. She thinks of Finn, thinks of her brother and parents, thinks of her mission.

Her eyes hazily notice the club coming towards her, and she lowers herself to the ground. She can hear the sound of the weapon crashes above her, the spikes making shallow holes in the wall. Holding her hand to her chest, she lifts herself upwards, leaning back against the wall.

It isn't long before he attacks her again.

It hits her this time, the club sent directly against her right arm. She screams as the spikes pierce her skin, instantly slicing open a patch of flesh. Blood squirts from her body, almost paralyzing her with torment.

Rachel collapses to the concrete in agony. Her cries are barely audible as she lays crippled on the ground, thoughts surrounding the only person she wants to say bye to. Ignoring the misery in her chin and arm and hand, she tries to move, tries to crawl away and die with some dignity. She doesn't get far as the man kneels on top of her, his legs pinning her to the ground.

"I don't want you dead sweet heart," he slithers, the tongue of a demon, "you're making it harder for yourself. Just go to sleep for now."

She can't breathe as he brings the club in his hand once more. She closes her eyes, waiting for the blow to end her suffering. Just for a while, anyways.

But it never comes.

She hears grunting and growls. Her eyes snap open to find Finn's iron arms around the demon, throwing him against the brick wall. He follows him, his large hand grabbing the hoodie of the red sweater he's wearing. She watches as the fingers that held her so tenderly, embraced her so warmly, smash the man's head repeatedly against the wall, creating a pool of blood below him.

His actions get more vicious as the man rests lifeless in his grasp, the club falling out of the dead man's hand. Finn seethes between his teeth as he releases the body, letting it fall to the ground. He sends a kick to its ribcage as the human appearance melts down to the form of a Prite demon. She watches in wonderment as the blood transforms to black goo, splattering against Finn.

"Stop."

Finn freezes, as if he seemed to forget she was there. His muscles tense as his movements instantly stop, his feet pivoting to face her.

She cries when his eyes meet hers.

"Rachel," he breathes, his gaze softening. He sprints forward, wiping the blood from his face as he bends towards her. He leans forward, his breath fanning her injuries. "Where does it hurt?"

She points to her wounds, and he analyzes them all. She hisses in pain as he grazes her fingers and chin, though he stops uncomfortably when he notices the depth of the wound in her arm.

He gulps thickly. "We need to get you out of here," he whispers, his eyes averting to hers. She nods, allowing him to briefly cradle her face. Was it that bad? Could it kill her? Another sharp feeling shoots through her, and Finn acts quickly. "Come on." He reaches under her arms, lifting her upwards.

His arm wraps around her shoulders protectively, holding her close to him. Her head rests against his chest as he leads them towards the end of the alley, the fast beating of his heart pounding against her ear.

His fingers squeeze around her arm to keep it from pouring blood, his nails digging into her skin. Their feet pad loudly against the pavement as they leave a trail of blood behind them, though Finn doesn't seem to care.

"We're almost there, Rachel, almost out of the - "

A crowd of darkness blocks the entry of the alley, shadows lining the brick walls of the opening. Her hands clench against his shirt in fear, her eyes scanning the shapes in front of them. She hides her face in his chest when she realizes they're human forms of demons, the red eyes the only evidence.

Finn pulls her closer to him. She looks up to see him forcing his features into a calmed expression, but she knows he's worried.

He turns them around to go in the opposite direction.

It's like slow motion, the way their hands reach out to grab her as they're confronted again but another round of human demons. She doesn't even have time to react as they pull the her into the crowd, her body detaching from Finn.

"Rachel!"

She turns around, her eyes searching for him. Claws rip at her skin as the humans try to get a grip on her, but she ignores them, her neck straining for the only reason she's still fighting. "Finn!"

Rachel sees a glimpse of him through the crowd as the human demons attach themselves to his body. His face reddens in strength as he tries to make his way towards her, his muscles popping with the amount of weight he's dragging.

A sob ripples through her. "Finn!" She reaches her hand out, stretching forward as the human demons pull her back. She tries to feel him, touch him one last time before they face whatever torture is coming.

She feels the graze of his skin, and that's enough to satisfy her as she finally gives in and blacks out.

l.

She doesn't want to wake up.

She can sense the destruction bounding to happen, feel the death surrounding her. Roars of howls and screams echo in whatever room she is in, but she's too scared to check and see what's happening. Too scared to face whatever plan they have in killing her.

"Rachel Berry."

She pauses. They know she's awake. Her eyes remain shut as she stays still in her position on the floor. Heat waves against her and she wonders if there is a fire nearby, maybe something to torture her with. She tries to figure out where she is without touching anything or seeing anything, but all she can tell is she's in a hallow room, surrounded by creatures of nightmares.

"The one we've all been waiting for, isn't it?"

The heel of a boot makes contact with her stomach, pressing harshly down into her flesh. Her eyes snap open as she screeches in surprise, her body folding upwards as the impact forces her to spring. She coughs, sucking in a large amount of air, trying to control her racing heart.

"That's for killing my friend. Not so strong now, are you?" A man leans down in front of her, and she can tell by his eyes he's hiding behind his real disguise. He has brown hair and a mustache, taking the appearance of a man in his late 40s. Her eyes skim over his nails which are pointed at the end of his fingers.

A loud roar bounces throughout the room, and Rachel takes in her surroundings for the first time since she opened her eyes. Looking away from the instigator, she cranes her neck upwards. Human forms of demon crowd the area in what looks like a grand ballroom, taking the appearance of young girls and teenage boys and seniors. She frowns in disgust as they hiss at her, same red eyes. They look familiar, and she wonders if they're the same demons that attacked her and Finn in the alleyway. She tries not to think about it though, tries not to think about the possibility that she'll never see Finn again, tries not to think if he's dead yet.

Her arm begins to throb. Rachel turns away from the human demons as they begin to snatch at her, her focus drawing towards her injury. She stares in shock as a bandage fondly wraps underneath her shoulder, healing it quickly. Though she still feels the pain in her chin and hand.

"Ah yes," the demon in front of her nods, gesturing to her bandaged arm, "it would have killed you. Don't think of it as a caring act, we just can't have you die before you complete our request."

"Hurry up Dex! Finish her off!"

She winces as the words come from the growing crowd. The man in front of her, Dex, looks towards them in annoyance. "Not yet my friends. We will get our chance to ruin her. You must be patient."

Rachel closes her eyes, trying to block the images out of her mind. She feels the coldness wrap around her as the feeling of death seems to surround her. She holds herself, arms embracing her bruised and broken body. At least she'll get to see her brother again.

Dex leans closer to her, smiling his black teeth. "Here's the thing, Ms. Berry, we're Prites, demons sent by Master Hawk to complete a task he's requested. You know that, right? Well, Master Hawk sent so many of us that we had to manipulate human forms so you night chasers didn't get suspicious. We've been watching you for weeks."

Rachel whitens. "The Prite that attacked me, that one night - "

"With the garbage bag? Oh. That was a silly experiment. See how strong you are."

Rachel feels the colour drain from her body. How could she be so stupid to think she was a real night chaser? She was the one destined to destroy the portal and save the world? They're going to use her, then they're going to kill her, and then everyone is going to go back to their usual lives without her as a distraction.

Dex seems to notice the fear in her eyes, and he smiles devilishly. His hand reaches to curl her hair, and she leans away from him in disgust. "Don't worry darling, we will end your suffering soon. But first," he roughly grabs the top of her arms, lifting her to stand. He pushes her forward, directing her to face a unique looking door attached to the wall. She whimpers as he digs his nail in her skin. "We need you to open the portal allowing demons to return to Underworld. You see, our Master can't enter this world unless he can return. So you must open it, let our master see what the outside world looks like. He's very curious."

He turns to face her, letting go of his hold on her. She looks away from him, staring at the door, the portal she's been told to never open unless they have an army prepared. She sighs, refusing to destroy the world in the last few minutes of her life. She faces him, ready to face whatever torture as she spits at him. "No."

He grins as if he's planned this. "Very well."

Dex snaps his fingers. A choir of calls are released from the observing demons as someone makes their way through the crowd. Her eyes squint as she notices three bodies uncomfortably maneuvering around the bodies of the human demons. Her heart almost drops when the trio exits the crowd, recognizing the face.

Finn.

He slumps forward. He looks weak, more damaged than the last time she saw him and she realizes they've been torturing him too. His open skin is covered in blood and bruises, making her want to turn away. But she can't, because he's alive, still here. Even if it's for a little while.

She pushes past Dex, her shoulder roughly bumping his as he makes her way towards him. He can't do much but stare, the demons beside him having a firm grip on his body. She doesn't care though, all she wants to do is make sure he's okay before they'll never be okay again.

It isn't long before Dex wounds his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. She screams in protest as he drags her away, her arms outstretched towards Finn. He looks angry now, even in the blood and sweat. He pushes against the men holding him, struggling to walk forward.

"Let her go!"

His response earns him a punch to the stomach, and Rachel cries out as he groans.

"Sh, sh, Rachel," Dex coaxes her, holding her close to his chest. His tongue swirls close to her ear but she barely notices. She could have taken any other punishment, just not hurting Finn, she can't take that. "We will let him go. And we will also consider letting you go if you cooperate with us. We just need you to open the portal, alright?"

"Rachel don't - "

Another punch.

She scrambles. "No!" she cries as the blow makes him bend in torment. She turns to Dex, pleading. "I'll do it! I'll do whatever you want! Just let him go, please!"

Satisfaction seems to register in his eyes. He nods, gesturing to the demons holding Finn. They drop him to the ground, his body heavily collapsing. He grunts in pain, but Rachel feels the weight lift off her chest, even as the two demons hold a warning sword towards Finn's frame.

"We won't harm him for now," Dex explains as she watches in confusion, "first you have to open it." He drags Rachel to the doorway, ignoring her attempts to draw back to Finn's aching body. He places her in front of it, standing before her.

He grabs her hand and opens her palm towards the ceiling. She watches in apprehension as he pulls a pocket knife from his jean pocket. "It won't work unless you want it," he tells her, grabbing her hand, "Finn's life depends on it." She hisses in pain as he points the knife into her flesh, opening a fresh path of skin in her palm.

Before she can question his actions he opens the door of the portal, revealing a thick brick wall behind it. He presses her hand against it, letting the blood sweep into the creaks in the wall.

"Want it."

Rachel can feel the eyes of all the human demons on her, lasers of red watching her intently. She tries to control her body, reduce her shivering before she looses herself in anxiety. She tries not to think of the embarrassment she's causing her night chaser group by opening the portal, tries not to think of the destruction Master Hawk will make.

All she thinks about is Finn.

The thought is enough to motivate her, her hand pressing deeper into the brick wall. She thinks of how he needs to live and learn to love, even if its not with her. A life without love is empty, and she wants more than anything for him to be happy. She might not make it out of this situation but he can, and she's going to make sure he won't waste it.

He deserves a happy life. He deserves to be adored and cherished by women. She doesn't know what's stopping him from falling, but she hopes he doesn't listen.

The wall begins to vibrate, and she keeps going, thinking of all the times he's saved her, of all the times he's protected her. Now it's her turn to be the hero, even if it's just in his eyes, even if it's by opening the portal. She's still saving him, and that's all she cares about. Just one name.

Finn.

The brick wall explodes, blasting her backwards a couple feet from the portal. She lands harshly on the ground, her bloody hand falling upon her cheek and splashing her with red. Debris of bricks begin to fall around them and she covers herself, her hands moving to shield her head.

Rachel winces as chunks land on her body, bruising her. She hopes Finn is somewhere safe, maybe they've already let him go. If they did, she guesses she's happy she did something right out of this mess.

"Dex, look!"

Cries of shock seem to centre around the portal, it's hard to tell with the ringing in her ears. Her fingers remove bits of dust from her eyes, coughing out the smoke that snuck to her mouth. She lifts her head from the ballroom floor, vision blurry and faded. Her eyes squint into the distance as the crowd of human demons surround the standing door, a light shinning from it that she hasn't noticed before.

Her eyes make contact with Finn, who is laying weak on the floor. He stretches onto his back, hissing as he rests. She tries to tell him to leave, to get out of here but he doesn't listen. Doesn't even move.

Dex turns to her in the distance, and she can see the portal flashing behind him. It's not a break wall anymore, instead a backdrop of red sky and dark clouds that hang upon bloody rivers. She wonders if this is what home looks like to them, death and suffering. She wonders if it makes them happy. If they even have the heart to embody that emotion. Her eyes blink heavily at the scenery, suddenly realizing what she's done.

She opened the portal.

Dex looks at her the same time Finn struggles to get on his knees. He shoots her one smirk before whispering out, "kill her."

"No!"

A high pitch of screeching lines throughout the ballroom, followed by the sound of cracking. Rachel screams when the noise suddenly turns to destruction, a rainfall of shattering glass falling around her. Multiple windows continue to bust by an invisible force, a power so strong it doesn't require physicality. She hides her face in the ground for what feels like the 5th time that day, shards of glass mixing with her blood-matted hair. She squeezes her eyes shut, not being able to take anymore surprises.

A familiar chuckle fills the room, and she finds herself leaning forward in anticipation. She laughs in relief when she sees her night chasers, followed by Jesse St. James, his fingers twinkling from his recent trick with the blasting windows.

"Sorry to interrupt."

Now this is a surprise she doesn't mind.

The human demons barely have time to react. She sees Dex growl in annoyance, taking his knife strictly in his hand. Jesse claps his hands, once, a second time, and the demons are suddenly itching at their skin. Yells of terror release from their throat as their appearances of humans seem to melt around them, exposing them as the true demons they are. They begin to squeal as their skin blisters to slimy texture of a Prite demon, eyes returning to yellow.

They're weaker, but not weak enough. She watches as Santana raises her hand and points to the crowd of Prite's. She charges towards them.

"Oh God," she looks up to see Blaine coming toward her, his small frame sneaking from the battle, "Rachel . . ."

She coughs. Is it that bad? Looking down at her body, she can barely recognize her appearance, only seeing the red colour of blood. The pain seems to catch up with her as her sliced hand begins to burn, her other broken hand continuing to ache, and her chin forming a final bruise. She looks up at Blaine, who seems nauseous.

"How did you find us?"

He shakes his head, eyes trying to register her wounds. "You guys were gone for so long we got worried. It doesn't take long to track someone down when you see a dead Prite in the alleyway along with your friends blood smeared on the walls." He touches her cheek, his thumb grazing across her forming black eye. "I need to get you out of here - "

She shakes her head before he can finish. "No, Finn first . . . he's been tortured . . . "

"Rachel - "

"Go!" She pushes him away from her, towards Finn.

Blaine is hesitant. He looks to Finn, then back to her. Analyzing the battle behind him, he gives her one of his daggers. "I'll be right back," he gasps out, turning on his heel and running towards their dyeing partner.

Rachel watches him go, eyes then averting to the fight in front of her. Gripping the dagger in her hand, she raises her arm as she tries her hardest to help from her position on the floor. She makes sure her group is out of her aim, waiting till Jesse is done turning a Prite with his spells.

"Not too fast."

A slipping hand grasps onto her ankle. She looks up in surprise to see Dex crawling towards her, his body half melted into demon form, the other half the same appearance of a human. He hisses at her, his one arm dragging her across the ground towards him. She tries to dig her heel into the floorboards to stop herself, but it's no use.

Rachel stops below him, her body tired and broken. "When are you going to learn evil is stronger than good?"

She doesn't really remember what happens after that. Doesn't remember the sudden flow of energy she possessed as she gripped the dagger Blaine gave her in her hand. Barely remembers the way she sprung upwards and dove the blade into Dex's chest, black goo pouring from its wound. It's even hard to remember him convulsing above her, then collapsing to his death.

But one thing she does remember is breathing out in relief, and then going unconscious.

li.

She wants to wake up this time.

She knows she's safe the moment she feels the familiar mattress below her, her hands cushioning into it. Not knowing whether she's alone or not, she peeks her eyes open, searching.

No one's there, and she finds herself in the white room she was laid in the first day at the art museum. It feels weird being there again, so much changing since she was last placed inside the sheltered walls. Though it was only a couple weeks ago, she feels as if she were still a child, and now, laying here, a mature and knowledgable adult.

Rachel tastes the inside of her mouth, the sting of blood still favorable. She looks down to find her wounds healed, though still keeping the appearance of bruises and cuts and scraps. Staring down at her arm, she sees the familiar scratches from the club, though she feels nothing.

She sits up on the cushion, her face falling into the cup of her hands. Her mind is still foggy of the events that occurred at the ballroom, not exactly sure what happened, not exactly sure how she's alive. Her fingers wipe at the edge of her eyes, willing herself not to panic.

"Ouch."

Rachel's head snaps upwards. She turns to face Santana, who stands at the frame of the doorway, analyzing her injuries. "Santana," she breathes out, relief washing through her. The last time she saw her she was geared in Night Chaser attire, prepared for battle. Her eyes widen. "Is everyone okay? Finn - "

Santana looks down. "He's fine," she whispers, a little sad, "been asking for you."

Rachel swallows thickly. They haven't exactly had time to discuss their intense kiss, haven't had time to do anything but worry about not getting killed. Her lips burn in the memory of his mouth on hers, and she tries to not think of the way he pulled away from her. The way he shut her out.

"What happened?"

Santana sighs heavily. She comes forward to sit beside her on the cushion. Her eyes concentrate on her wrapped up hand that the human demon broke by just squeezing it. She shivers. "We were ambushed by human Prite's. They were sent by Master Hawk for you to open the portal," she starts, and there's something in her voice, maybe wordiness? Fear? "Finn said your blood and concentration opened the portal. And now Master Hawk is able to come through, make his markings on Earth."

Rachel shakes her head. "Can't we destroy it like we plan on destroying the one in Underworld?"

"Not exactly," Santana tests, playing on the words. She shifts towards Rachel, who stares wide-eyed. "If we destroy it, we won't be able to open it again. Jesse said your ancestor, Raw Berry, only closed it due to a spell. But he said that spell vanished long ago, it's almost non-existent. Extinct, if you will."

A feeling of shame crosses through Rachel, and she turns away from her. It's her fault, isn't it? She hates herself for believing they would actually let them go, hates herself for being so desperate for someone who isn't willing to commit to her. She's ruined everything. Prophecy or no prophecy.

She licks her lips, not being able to look at the older Latina. "I'm sorry . . . "

She places a hand on her shoulder. Her fingers rub into her sore skin, and she can hint a sad smile. "It's okay," she whispers, trying to be sensitive, "we'll figure something out. We should have seen a trick like this coming."

It doesn't make her feel any better.

lii.

Rachel exits the white room, wrapping a robe tightly around her body. She smiles sadly at Sam as he walks towards her in the hallway, his eye scratched up from the night before.

"Hey Sam," she whispers, trying not to look at the injury. Her eyes avert downwards, shame instantly flooding through her. He chuckles, obviously not concerned with his wound, and reaches out to pat her cheek.

"He's in his room."

She gulps. Her eyes follow his back as he moves around her to continue down the hallway. She winces at the bruises on the back of his arm. "Sam?" He turns around, a hint of a smile on his features. "Did something really bad just happen?"

She watches as he shrugs. His eyes look into hers, and for the first time she sees a seriousness in them. He sighs heavily, shrugging his muscular shoulders.

"It's not your fault, Rachel."

liii.

She finally makes it to Finn's room without any more distractions.

Her hand hovers over the door, knuckles prepared to knock. She can feel the anticipation course through her body, pushing her to tap the wood, but she stays frozen in place, not moving.

He opens it before she can walk away.

Rachel swallows the thickness in her throat. Her eyes meet his, and she instantly notices the scratches that cover his face. She wants to reach for him, wipe away the dried blood, though his gaze is warning her not to. She looks away and pushes past him into his room, his back facing him as she stands in the centre.

He closes the door, and she hears the shuffling of feet as he faces her. She crosses her arms across her chest. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispers, her words directed to him though she isn't looking. Her heart races in her chest, and she can feel his breath fan across her neck. She shivers.

"Blaine told me that you ordered him to help me before he could help you," he tells her, close to her body, "you could have died."

She breathes out heavily, closing her eyes. "You were hurt."

"So were you."

Rachel stays silent. She bites on the bottom of her lip, wringing her hands. The feeling of his breath seems to fade away from her, and she misses it immediately. She turns around, sees him a few feet away from her. "Listen, Finn - "

He stops her before she can continue. "We can't do this anymore, Rachel," he rushes out, gesturing between them. "Whatever it is." He combs his hair back with his hand, fisting it between his fingers. His eyes don't meet hers. "You shouldn't have felt the need to protect me last night, I am the one who is supposed to protect you. If you would have just let me go, the portal wouldn't have been open and - "

Her eyes glower. "They were going to kill you!"

"So let them kill me!" he yells, throwing his hands up in frustration. He growls, anger popping through his veins. "Don't you understand what we are Rachel? We're Night Chasers, we were born knowing that we could die at any second. We are trained to kill or be killed, there's no in between." He lets out a heavy breath, his hands twitching. "I'd rather die for something right then live for something wrong."

She stares at him, stares at the annoyance in his eyes, hears the disgust in his voice. Her eyes blink away the tears she didn't realize were falling, but she doesn't wipe them, doesn't give him the satisfaction of making her cry. He watches her with more to say, and she wonders if he's going to break her heart even more.

He does. "Just leave me alone," he whispers, turning away. His shoulders slug in defeat. "I shouldn't have let myself get close to you. That was a mistake, that kiss was a mistake. I was just bored."

Her heart aches. The feeling of breaking rushes through her again, and she's reminded of what it felt like when Puck died. Her head feels dizzy, but she stands strong. She's lost enough people to give up now.

Finn steps forward, eyes fierce and cold. He looks at her, and speaks the words that ruins her completely,

"You will always be Puck's little sister to me, that's all."

liv.

"Rachel?"

She ignores Blaine's calls as she runs down the hallway, her face streaming with tears. It didn't take long for her to leave Finn's room, having nothing to say but the silent words of heartbreak. Her chest burns, and she's not sure why she feels so affected.

It's not like she loved him or anything.

She slams the bedroom door behind her, sliding down to the floor. Her robe buckles at her feet, and she feels her breath quicken, her heart race. Her eyes close shut as she's reminded of all the losses she's encountered, of all the people who left her in the past year. She releases a sob, finally breaking down.

"Rachel? Rachel, please open up!"

She doesn't answer, doesn't make a sound. Is she really the one who is supposed to end this?

Because it feels like she just started something worse.

lv.

"He's coming!"

His eyes tear away from the mirror in the tower, beading on the portal in front of him. He slithers, waiting beside his companions for his entrance.

"He's going to be upset we let her get away," another one crickets, shivering as he speaks. He chatters his teeth together, gaze kept on the Underworld in front of them. His claws fold together, body vibrating as he sits. His slit eyes cross from one edge of the room to another, nervous and jerky.

A figure steps in front of the portal, bulky and strong. He's never seen him before, he's only heard stories of him living in his tower, isolated from the rest of Underworld. His hair slides from the top, almost draping him. He watches as the figure bends, as if adjusting to the new pace, his eyes dark red.

He steps away from him, bowing his head.

"Welcome to Earth, Master Hawk."

THE END

That's the end of the first installment of my four part series! Did you guys like it? I hope you enjoyed it:)

What do you guys think Finn's reason is for not wanting to get close to Rachel? Are you excited for the next part? Give you a hint, it gets even bloodier;)

The next one, 'Creatures of the Underworld," will hopefully be up by the beginning of July, because I have exams and such. I am really excited about continuing this series, and I can't wait for you guys to read this one and the rest! Hope you guys enjoyed it:)

Please, review! And tell me what you want or think will happen in the next one!

PS NICE WAY TO COME BACK, HUH?