One-shot. Quick.

Warning; Serial Killer Quinn. Blood involved. Enjoy.

Disclaimer; I don't own Glee, or Quinn, or Puck.

It was a Sunday Night. No one hardly ever came to her house on days like this, such as rain and everything, but when there was a knock at the door she had to drag herself out of her bed. She had been lying in bed because she was tired, and she just wanted to sleep but she had this 'urge'. She saw Puck at the door. The guy who had somewhat messed up her Sophomore year. The one who got her pregnant and the one who didn't stay faithful at the beginning of the relationship.

"Hey, Q. Um, I know it's late and all but I couldn't exactly sleep with this on my mind.. so. I guess I just want to apologize for the years and stuff. I may have messed some things up between us but I kinda wanna make them right, because we only have little time together now and-"

"Puck, it's fine. Really." Quinn interrupted, holding a hand up to silence him. She sighed and moved out of the way, allowing him to walk in. She had other plans. Once he was in, he'd never come back out. He'd be there forever. With her. But that was the thing. He wouldn't exactly be there. She smirked as he walked in. She slowly shut the door behind him, and looked towards him, putting on her innocent face. She didn't want to kill him, but the urge was way too great to withstand. She walked into the kitchen. "Puck, I'll get you a snack or something. Just sit down on the sofa, or wherever you wanna sit." She called out, waiting until he was out of the view.

As he left her vision, Quinn slowly walked over to the sink. There was a knife on the side. She knew that one was probably clean, so she decided to pick that one up. She didn't know why she wanted a clean one, she just needed to get this urge away. She put her arms behind her back, walking into the living room. She walked behind the sofa quietly, looking down at Puck as he looked up at her. "Puck..?" She asked quietly. "What would you do if I hurt you?"

"What do you mean by that, Q?" Puck raised an eyebrow. He was confused by what she meant, by 'hurt you'. He didn't know why she was acting like this either, actually. He just wanted her to be like the old Quinn. The 'happy' Quinn he knew.

Quinn shrugged a little. When he looked away to decide she took this as a chance to finally get him. She walked around the sofa, pushing Puck down so he was lying down. She quickly sat on top of him, holding him down with her weight. She took the knife away from her back, before stabbing it deep into Puck's stomach, watching his expression go from scared to panicking. She took the knife out and plunged it deeply in again, ignoring the blood that was getting on her face and clothes. She felt tears stinging at her eyes, she didn't want to do this. But as she said, there was an urge that she just needed to sort out and he was the only one there.

After a few more minutes, Puck was still alive but barely breathing. She lifted the knife one more time, before dropping it to the floor beside the sofa. She was crying. She slowly leant down to him, putting her arms around him gently. She knew the blood was getting onto her clothes. "I'm sorry.." She whispered, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry.." She kept repeating.

Puck didn't reply. And after a few minutes of Quinn crying on his shoulder, he lost consciousness and within a time space of a minute, he stopped breathing. He was dead. But that wasn't the problem. Quinn had to get rid of the body but with her in this crying state she obviously couldn't even support herself as she stood up. She slowly pulled away, seeing Puck's eyes still open. She put her hand over his eyes, closing them. She quickly got up shakily, before grabbing Puck's arms, dragging him out of the building. She quickly hid him in a nearby garbage dump. She knew that someone would see the DNA.

Come on. She just killed the one she actually loved. She knew she had to go to jail. And just like that, she was in court and was sentenced for murder. She didn't even care. She didn't even blink. She just allowed them to take her to wherever she was going to be. She didn't even have a reaction. She was like a shell.

An empty shell.