Who: Blaine Anderson (justlove), John Blake (oversight), and some not really surprise guests. Semi-open.
Where: First floor.
When: Sunday, 8/4.
Rating: M for graphic violence and character death.
Summary: Blaine is in some serious trouble, although it didn't start out that way. Does it ever?
Note: It's semi-open, so anyone can tag in, whether it's during or after. Just give me a heads-up in the subject line and we can work something out.
The Story:

If there was anything going through Blaine's mind at all, it was a certain gratitude for the fact that in Lima, threats like the one they were facing didn't exist. Vicious creatures that also happened to be invisible weren't a thing to be worried about, unless you happened to be reading or watching a particularly imaginative book or TV show.

But Blaine wasn't doing either of those things at the moment. He was trying to make his way back to his room, and then from there, get somewhere a little safer, but his progress was nothing short of slow and really miserable. The slightest noise or creak of the floorboards had him whipping around, tensing, and brandishing the crowbar he'd picked up somewhere. It just felt so strange, needing to carry a weapon, even one as probably mundane as a crowbar, but he just didn't feel safe.

He was chastising himself for leaving his room in the first place; it wasn't an important errand at all, and definitely not one that was worth venturing out into hostile territory. But suddenly, he forgot about reproaching himself, because that was unmistakably the sound of something closing the gap and coming closer.

He froze in his tracks, not wanting to turn around, in case what he feared he would see was actually there.