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Alexander's POV:

I stared into the mirror, as I did every morning. I had turned my hair into a veritable rat's nest, as I also did every morning. Today was different though. Different school, different people, different house, different state, different fear… but at least I still had the same best friend. This time, it would be better. I would make it better. They had run me out of my last school, they would not do it again. I had changed too much. My outfit would scare away the smart idiots, because it practically screams "DON'T FUCK WITH ME!". My attitude would take care of the stupider ones.

I jumped as my best friend appeared in the doorway with a bang. He was dressed in a blue shirt, blue jeans, a hooded jacket, and sneakers. I whirled around, nearly losing my balance as I glared at him viciously.

"How many times have I asked you not to do that?" I snarled.

"Counting this time? Eighteen thousand one hundred seventy two." Cody said, a smirk set on his face, "You're really going to school dressed like a member of the Sex Pistols?"

"Should give the stupid morons a fright..." I said, affecting a deep voice and Scottish brogue, "How does my accent sound? Too strong? Or should I use my German one instead?"

"No, your accent is fine," Cody said, "Scottish one fits your voice and temper. Sounds better when you're ranting or complaining. Makes you sound more intelligent, cleverer and more intimidating. German just makes you sound silly. You always end up sounding like Richtofen from Call of Duty Nazi Zombies when you do a German one. I think you could do without the colored contact lenses though."

"I'll wear them until I can't stand it anymore." I say, as I donned my black leather jacket, wire framed sunglasses and Nike high tops.

I turned around and took up a pose.

"How do I look?"

Under the leather jacket, I wore an ragged old black Misfits band t-shirt. I was wearing my favorite pair of blue jeans, which were ripped at the knees. All of these things with my wild hair made me look something like an outlaw… or at least that was what I liked to think.

"Surprisingly Rock and Roll." He said with a chuckle. I flipped him the bird as I limped over to my bedside and grabbed my cane from where it leaned against the table. "You're really bringing that?"

"I take it everywhere." I said as I wiped a scuff off its polished black handle, "Most days are better than others, but my ankle and knee still hurt sometimes. Those fuckers back home did a real number on me, you know. I'll have problems with that leg for the rest of my life now. Besides, I might need to open a case of whoop ass."

I strode across the room and into the hallway and down the stairs. I said a quick goodbye to my folks before we departed for the school. We traipsed down the driveway to where my car sat waiting for me. I smiled lightly at the small white Volkswagen Beetle, and climbed inside. Cody got in the passenger seat quietly. I shot him a smug look, to which he rolled his eyes in response.

"Just because you got your license before me…" He started to say.

I interrupted him in my usual fashion. By turning the radio on. It only took us ten minutes to get to the school. We pulled up in front of the place, and I gazed up at it with distaste, the words William McKinley High School emblazoned across the front of the building.

"All high schools are the same, cesspools of ignorance and uncorrectable stupidity." I spat as I got out of the car, "Most of the people here are probably too stupid to even process what I just said."

"It gets worse." Cody said pointing to a group of students clustered around the dumpsters, throwing people into the dumpsters as teachers walk right past without doing anything. I rolled my eyes and let out a loud groan. I immediately set off in that direction. As I got close the wind picked up and made my hair blow around, making it even messier. I could hear them calling their latest victim, a very flamboyantly dressed boy with coiffed hair, a freak. I let out a bark of laughter as I entered the circle. I twirled my walking stick once before swinging it and catching a pale faced guy with a mullet in the gut. He doubled over and I raised it again and brought it down on his back, sending him to the ground.

"You have some nerve calling him a freak, when you look like that." I deadpanned, "News flash, you stupid imbecile, the mullet went out of style in the 1980's… If it ever was in style in the first place."

"Who the fuck are you?" The hockey idiot sputtered.

"The brain-dead masses that cower in my presence know me as their worst nightmare turned corporeal," I growled in my Scottish accent, "I've been known by many nicknames, none of which you will ever hear, but those in this place who come to know the privilege of being a friend of mine, will earn the right to call me Alexander."

I turned towards the two that had their hands on the boy with the flamboyant clothes. One was a heavyset black boy, the other was a white boy with a stupid looking Mohawk.

"Unhand him or you'll suffer the consequences." I growled.

The black boy drew himself up and stepped forward and got in my face, trying to look intimidating. I noticed that he was sweating, and he looked nervous, suggesting that he either didn't really want to do what he was doing, or he was absolutely terrified of me… and I sensed that either of these options were a distinct possibility.

"And what da fuck are you gonna do about it bitch? Why doncha scram with the rest of the misfits, befow ya getchya self hurt." He growled, his voice dangerously close to cracking halfway through the sentence.

I also noticed immediately that his breath smelled like a bean burrito. I coughed and waved the smell out of my face.

"First of all, your breath… it really fucking stinks. I recommend you lay off the gas station bean burritos from now on and I'd also suggest a ticktack. Secondly..."

I reared my head back and slammed my forehead into his teeth, causing him to fall to the ground clutching his face. Another boy, a heavyset guy with short hair, lunged forward and helped him to his feet. I turned to the flamboyant boy and jerked my head in the direction of the building, a clear message to flee. He did as I indicated, and escaped with little effort. The guy practically sashayed into the school.

"You alright Az?" Mystery boy asked the black guy.

"Yeah, Dave." Az said as he was pulled to his feet, "I'm fine."

"Next time you try to intimidate me, make sure your heart is in it first." I deadpanned, "You're sweating like a pig. Your voice cracked while you were threatening me. Your eyes tell a lot. I could see it in your eyes that you didn't mean what you were saying. Which makes me think that you didn't want to do this, and you were being forced into it by your idiot Neanderthal friends. So I'll give you both the benefit of the doubt."

"You better watch your back, ya freak." Mullethead sneered at me, "Somebody'll teach you your place eventually."

He cracked his knuckles and I lost my temper. I stepped closer to him and removed my sunglasses. He recoiled at the sight of my orange eyes (thank you costume contact lenses), and his back collided with the front of the dumpster as I stared him down.

"You even dare to think you can intimidate me?" I snarled, "Look into my eyes. These are the eyes of a boy who spat in the face of men as they threatened my life and meant it. I have faced down men far scarier than you. NEVER presume to think you can scare me!

They stared at me with terror, but Dave and Az looked at me with respect. Dave stepped forward and stuck his hand out.

"Dave Karofsky." he said. I reached out and took hold of his hand and shook it.

"Alexander Foreman." I responded, "You can call me Alex."

Cody, Az, Dave and I started walking towards the building slowly.

"So, anybody want to tell me why I had to rip into those idiots?" I asked in my normal voice.

"What happened to your voice?" Az asked.

"Pretty convincing wasn't it?" I asked, "Fake accents are a specialty of mine."

"The accent is fake?" Az stuttered while rubbing his jaw, "It sounds really realistic."

"Years of practice." I responded, "Sorry about head butting you, just be glad I didn't do it harder. Now I'll ask again… why the fuck were all those guys screwing with that kid?"

"That's Kurt Hummel. He's a fag..." Az started, but I cut him off.

"Do NOT use that word in my presence. It is vile. Calling somebody a fag would be like them calling you the N word, "I said sternly, and both Az and I flinched at the mention of the hated word and he mumbled an apology, "Apology accepted, and I offer an apology for saying that word as well. Just don't do it again. And so what if he's gay? It's not that big of a fucking deal."

"As long as he doesn't try to come on to me or convert me..." he started, only to be cut off again.

"That's not even possible." I said with a roll of my eyes.

"That's not what I heard. I've heard my parents ranting about it before." Azimio fired back.

"Oh, I apologize." I retorted sarcastically, "I was operating under the delusion that you were a human being capable of a modicum rational thought. Forgive me my mistake."

Dave and Cody snorted. Azimio turned his glare on Dave, who was just barely suppressing a fit of laughter.

"What the hell you doin' in a Podunk little town like Lima anyway? There has to be like a thousand better places you could have moved to." Azimio wondered.

"I have family that lived here. I figured we could have a fresh start here. New life, new school, new fun to be had, new potential friends to be made, new potential enemies to be destroyed. What more could I ask for... besides residents with a sliver of common sense?"

By then we had entered the building and my ranting was in full swing, and people were staring at me as if I had just professed eternal undying love to a neon orange Volkswagen Beetle. I paused in my ranting to notice that several girls in cheerleading uniforms were staring at Cody and I like I would imagine a piranha looks at a fresh cut of meat. A Latino girl caught my eyes, and made a really suggestive wink. I rolled my eyes and scoffed. She took particular offense to that and started walking towards us. Azimio groaned.

"Oh great."

"What now Azimio?" I asked.

"Lopez is heading this way."

"The Latina that's stalking toward us like she's the devil's personal bounty hunter?"

Az nodded.

"Challenge accepted." I muttered to myself as she stopped in front of us, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Miss?"

"Santana Lopez. But you can call me anything you want." She responded in a really suggestive and raunchy way. I rolled my eyes again.

"Okaaaay, you can tone it down a bit. I'm not interested. If I wanted somebody who thought they were the hottest piece of ass on the face of the planet, I would have stayed at my old school."

Her demeanor went straight from flirty to demon possessed angel witch in a second and a half.

"Then why didn't you?" She sneered, "Instead you have the nerve to come onto my turf and insult me? You think you're better than me? I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent, I could whip yo ass in about twenty seconds."

I started laughing and pulled my small black book out of my pocket and opened it. I added here name to the first available space.

"What are you doing now?" She asked confused.

"Adding you to the list of people who have told me they can beat me in a fight. You clock in at number three thousand one hundred seventy three."

"You think you can beat me in a fight, bitch?" Santana scoffed.

"I grew up on a street called Saginaw St, in a town called Flint, Michigan. That is the most dangerous city in Michigan, possibly the country. You couldn't even leave the house without a bullet ricocheting of the door of your car while backing out of the driveway."

"If you think you can take me, go ahead and try. I have razorblades in my hair!" She sassed. I presented my cane.

"This cane has a solid steel rod going through the middle of it, making it extra sturdy. The outer shell is solid painted oak. These two things mean that with one good swing I could knock you flat on your ass. Still wanna try ME?"

She stepped forward a step close and looked me in the eyes. After a minute of staring at each other, she smirked and held her hand out for me to shake.

"I think this is the beginning of a very beneficial relationship."

Her eyes promised mischief, and I couldn't resist. I shook her hand.

"Name's Alexander Foreman." I said with a smirk, "Let's bring this school to its knees. What do you propose?"

"We team up and rule this place." She proposed, "Cause chaos to bring an already chaotic system and institution to its knees?"

"Sounds good to me." I agreed, "I look forward to hearing from you again, Santana."

She gave me a nod, and another once over before she turned and walked away with here posse of Cheerios following close behind.

"Dude, you just made a deal with the devil." Dave warned.

I allowed myself a classic moment of evil, demonic, guffawing laughter, which caused Dave and Azimio to take a step back.

"Not really." I said with a wide evil smile, "She's just gonna help me show this school why half of my old school nicknamed me Lucifer, and called Cody my minion."

I turned to Cody who was already smirking with glee at the prospect of mischief and trouble.

"And once more unto the breach, for the game of mischief is afoot." He stated.

"And cry havoc say we, those who fight chaos with chaos, and let slip the dogs of war." I finished.

Azimio and Dave just stared at us.

"You two are nuts." Dave stated.

I grinned at him.

"Oh, but dear David… that's what makes life so much fun."


Chapter Text

Alexander's POV

A full week had passes since starting at McKinley, and it was going fairly well. I was happy to see that classes were normal. Or as normal as they could be in this school.

I learned the hierarchy of the school. The Cheerios and the football team reigned supreme (although the Cheerios held the overall crown solely because of Coach Sue Sylvester), followed by the assholes on the hockey team, then the other sports teams. Kurt and the rest of the Glee club were at the very bottom of the list, treated worse than scum.

Kurt and I had struck up something of a friendship. The one time I caught somebody throwing a slurpee in his face, it took Cody, Finn, Puck, Kurt and Sam to stop me from shoving the cup down the slimy bastard's throat. After that, word quickly spread that Kurt was under my protected and that I was not one to be trifled with.

Just about the only person who even looks at Kurt the wrong way is Dave. Nobody knows for sure why, but Dave seems to really hate Kurt. Cody and I are trying to find out why, but Dave is exceptionally good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. You had to really watch and wait for the walls to come down, because when they do it's usually only for a few seconds.

I had also met the infamous Sue Sylvester.

And oh, what a delightful exchange that was.

The woman is pure, undiluted evil, in the most delicious sort of way.

She pulled me into her office one day during lunch, and after a few minutes silence during which we stared at each other through narrowed eyes, she smirked and praised what chaos I had caused since my arrival at McKinley, as well as for frightening the larger jock population into submission.

"What are your intentions for this school?" She asked as I rose to exit the room.

I turned back to her.

"I will accept nothing less than total domination." I said.

The smile she responded with was predatory. Most would find it terrifying, but I only smiled back as she responded with only a single verbal word.


I get the feeling that I am going to be highly entertained by Sue Sylvester.

Anyway, to the present.

It took him a whole week, but Cody had talked me into doing something stupid with him. He wanted my help in auditioning for the show choir, or Glee club as it was called here. I threw the door to the choir room open with a loud bang and marched inside. I let my eyes survey the occupants of the room. Mr. Schue was standing at the front of the room by the white board, staring at me with wide eyes. Everybody else was staring at me with looks loaded with everything ranging from respect (Kurt, Puck and Finn), to lust, to sheer terror (Rachel). I rolled my eyes and marched over to claim my seat at Cody's side. I sat my guitar case down on the floor in front of me, and nodded my head in greeting to Kurt, who returned the gesture with a smile and a wave. Mr. Schue cleared his throat to get everybody's attention.

"Okay, so I see we have two new members among us today..."

"One," I interrupted him, "I'm not joining. I'm only here to help him with his audition, and because he's my ride home. I only sing in private, when nobody else is around. He's lucky I'm doing this duet with him at all. The only consolation I can take is that he has no more blackmail material he can cash in on."

"I don't see why you don't give it a try." Cody interjected, "You're a great singer. Your singing voice goes from a croon, to a solid baritone, to a falsetto that sounds like you're screaming bloody murder. You have better range than Axl Rose does nowadays."

I heard a slight gasp to my side, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Berry's head swivel slowly to look at me with a look that could only be described as predatory. I groaned, realizing that I might have gained another stalker in the form of a hobbit-like Jewish diva with a superiority complex.

And just when I'd finally managed to shake the three stalkers I already had. Ugh, goddammit.

"Please sing something." she begged, "Even if it is just a verse. Please?!"

I decided to humor her, so I complied. I chose the opening words to my favorite song, one that I most likely would never be able to sing in this club. From what I heard from various people, ol' Schuester kept the set lists in the club confined to stupid pop and classic rock songs and completely disregarded the one genre with a full set of functioning chromosomes, Heavy Metal.

"Say your prayers, little one, don't forget my son, to include everyone." I growled loudly, causing her to squeak and almost leap out of her seat. I could hear Puckerman snickering behind me, while Hudson asked him something, slightly confused.

"What song was that?" he asked Puckerman.

I froze.

What song was that? Are you fucking kidding me right now???

Never in my life had such blasphemous speech been uttered before me, and it immediately set me fuming.

It was now my turn to swivel around slowly to stare down Hudson.

"Who dares speak such outrageous blasphemy in my presence?!" I demanded with a snarl.

"Oh god." Cody muttered, hiding his face in his hands and shaking his head, "You really shouldn't have said that, Finn."

"Those were the opening lines to the Enter Sandman, perhaps the greatest song, off of perhaps the greatest album, by Metallica, possibly the greatest band in the history of glorious heavy metal genre! To NOT know this song, is an absolute DISGRACE! How in the name of all that is HOLY ON THIS PLANET, can a jock NOT HAVE KNOW THAT SONG? I can feel my IQ dropping by the second..." I sputtered and ranted, trying and failing to comprehend how he could be so clueless.

Meanwhile, everybody else is staring at me as if I might explode at any second. Cody jumped in to explain my small mental breakdown.

"He is a huge Metallica fan." He said.

"So am I, but I've never reacted like that." Puckerman pointed out.

"Yeah, but Alexander is a bit different." Cody explained, "Listening to Metallica got him through a really rough time in his life. As a result he practically worships them. He has every studio album they have ever made on both vinyl, cassette, CD, and mp3. He has every live album, every t-shirt, a denim jacket once owned by Cliff Burton himself, and a Vinyl copy of Master of Puppets signed by the current four members. He has memorized every original song they have ever put out. Then there is the bass in that case sitting in front of him. To him, not knowing that song is as close to a mortal sin as you can get without stabbing his poodle."

I turned my glare on Cody when he said that.

"If you say anything bad about Winnie I will disembowel you with a wooden cooking spoon, and then I'll feed him your entrails." I growled.

He rolled his eyes.

Mr. Schue looked between us.

"What song are you going to be singing for us today?" he asked, obviously trying to steer us away from what he perceived as a fight.

"Bad Company." he answered.

"Which version?" Mr. Schue asked.

"Five Finger Death Punch version." Cody answered.

I stood up picking up my guitar case and strode to the front of the room. I sat the case down on the piano and opened it. Within was my most prized possession. My Bass Guitar.

It was an Aria Pro II Cliff Burton Signature Bass Guitar. It was the same kind of bass that my hero had played when he was alive. It was a thing of beauty. I withdrew the bass from the case and plugged it into the amp that I had dropped off earlier that day to use. I warmed up by playing the first thirty seconds of (Anesthesia) Pulling Teeth, before I started playing the intro the song we had chose to sing. The rest of the backing band jumped in right behind me When it was Cody's queue to sing I nodded to him and he stepped up to the microphone

"A company,
Always on the run.
A destiny,
Oh it's the rising sun.
I was born,
A shotgun in my hands.
Behind the gun,
I'll make my final stand, yeah!

And that's why they call me
Bad Company
I can't deny
Bad Bad Company
Till the day I die
Until the day I die
Until the day I die

Rebel souls
Deserters we've been called
Chose a gun
And threw away the sun
Now these towns,
Well they all know our name
The death punch sound
Is our claim to fame

And that's why they call me
Bad Company
I can't deny
Bad Bad Company
Till the day I die
Until the day I die
Until the day I die
Until the day I die

Eye for an eye
Tooth for a tooth
Blood for blood
We've all gotta die
We've all gotta die

And that's why they call me
Bad Company
I won't deny
Bad Bad Company
Till the day I die

Bad Company
I won't deny
Bad Bad Company
Till the day I die
Until the day I die
Until the day I die
Until the day I die
Until the day I die

As we shouted the last chorus together, the rest of the room started cheering. Mr. Schue shook Cody's hand.

"You're in." he told Cody, "And if you ever want to join officially, Mr. Foreman, there is always a spot reserved."

"If I change my mind, you'll be the first to know." I said sincerely. Mr. Schue smiled in surprise as we both moved to sit back down in our seats after I put my bass back in its case.

I spent the rest of the meeting sitting in my seat, watching the others bicker and argue over what songs they should perform for their Sectionals competition. At the end of the meeting, Mr. Schue issued the weekly assignment, and the meeting was dismissed.

Three hours later I was sitting in my bedroom with Cody, Az and Dave.

"I can't believe you joined Homo Explosion." Az told Cody with a shake of his head..

Dave flinched, which I noticed.

"Now, that is interesting." I thought to myself, "Note to self: keep an eye on David."

I reached over and slapped Az on the back of the head.

"Ow! What the fuck?" He exclaimed.

"I swear to god, by the time this school year ends, I will have slapped the stupid out of you." I responded.

"Good luck with that." Dave joked quietly.

"Why do you have such a problem with Glee anyway?" Cody asked, "They've never done anything to you guys."

"It's fuckin' Gay as hell. Singing gay music, like stupid show tunes and pop shit all day." He defended.

"Music doesn't have a sexual orientation, dumbass." Cody said exasperatedly.

"Just because they sing something in that club, doesn't mean it's gay, Az. By that logic, Judas Priest, Queen, and the Stones are gay too." I argued, knowing that this would hit a nerve, since those were Azimio's favorite bands, "They've sons by all of them before."

"Da fuck you just say?" He shrieked. I smirked.

"Rob Halford is Gay. He is Judas Priest's lead singer. He came out in the nineties. Freddie Mercury was as well. Mick Jagger is Bi, and he's fucked more people than you ever will in a hundred life times." I explained further, "Judas Priest is your favorite band, is it not?"

"Yeah." Az said.

"Okay, now that you know they have a gay lead singer," I continued, "Are you prepared to allow me to burn your autographed Judas Priest t-shirt that Halford signed for you last year?"

He recoiled in terror.

"You go near my shirt, I kill you." I muttered in horror, before realizing who and what he was defending.

"See what I mean now?" I asked him.

He nodded slowly, his mind slightly blown. I smirked.

I would have him trained yet.