Y/N had recently moved into the infamous murder house, her mother was intrigued by the grand chandelier that hung from the ceiling and the beautiful stained glass. Her mother would never have forgiven herself if she didn’t purchase the house, it was a bargain.
However on the first night, a strange girl appeared in Y/N’s room, scaring her shitless.
“What the hell? Get out, how did you even get in?” Y/N hissed, shoving the girl backwards, towards the open door.
“I died here, this was my room…” Violet mumbled, almost in a daze.
Y/N could tell she clearly wasn’t in it, ghosts weren’t real and this house wasn’t haunted.
“Please leave before I call my mom.”
The girl however did not listen to Y/N, she began to wander around the room, dragging a pale finger along Y/N’s CDs and books. She was clearly off her rocket. Violet inspected Y/N’s CDs like they were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. Her pink lips turned into a small smile when she spotted a Nirvana CD.
“Tate would love you…” She murmured, talking more to herself than Y/N.
“Tate? Listen, perhaps you think it’s okay to barge into people’s houses and claim to be a ghost or some shit, but it’s not. I don’t know about the past owners nor your parents and why they let you do this, but you need to leave. This is an invasion of privacy.” Y/N groaned, trying to get through Violet’s thick skull.
Violet paid no attention though. Y/N’s blood began to boil as she stared Violet down, if looks could kill Violet would be 10 feet under. Y/N was growing rapidly infuriated by the girl and decided to take matters into her own hands.
Y/N stormed over the Violet, grabbing her forearm, digging her blunt nails into Violet’s arm. She started to drag Violet out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring Violet’s pleads.
“You can’t do this! This is my home!!” Violet protested.
Y/N considered her options, either call her mom and get the police round or kick Violet out. Y/N opted with the latter of the two. Violet was clearly a nut-case and Y/N knew her mother would rip her hair out due to stress if she found out.
Y/N wrenched open the door and shoved Violet out, eyes burning with anger. She slammed the door shut once she watched Violet walk away.
A rough hand snaked across her shoulder and over her mouth. Y/N tried to scream, clawing at her attacker’s hands, but the scream was muffled. Tears began to well up in Y/N’s eyes as she struggled.
The attacker dragged her backwards. Y/N panicked, digging her nails into the hands of her attacker, breaking the skin and causing red blood to escape the surface. He hissed, dropping his hands from Y/N and clutching them close to his chest.
Y/N spun around in lightening speed, coming face to face with a teenage boy with blonde, curly hair that laid tousled on his head and brown eyes that you could get lost in.
“You shouldn’t have done that to Violet. She belongs here, you don’t.” The boy growled, glaring daggers at Y/N.
“Who’s Violet? That freaky girl who I just had to drag out of my house?” Y/N spat.
“Apparently I’m a freaky girl, Tate.” Shrilled someone behind Y/N.
She whipped around, coming face to face with Violet.
“I-I just kicked you out…” Y/N gasped before everything went black.
Y/N woke up in her bed, unharmed and everything was serene. There was no Violet at the end of he bed and neither was her attacker, Tate.
“It was just a dream, a horrible, horrible dream.” Y/N mumbled, repeating the words like a mantra.
“I don’t think dreams continue after you’re awake.” Violet smirked, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I gotta say, I was routing for you. Thought you were going to show authority, have us shaking in our boots… However you passed out.”
Violet climbed into the bed, sitting next to Y/N. A small smile formed on her lips. Y/N flinched and tried to shuffle away.
“Hey, calm down. I’ll tell Tate not to bother you anymore, okay? You seem pretty shaken. It’s just a joke we have. I can tell you have courage and perhaps you belong in this house more than my family and I ever did.” And with that, she disappeared.
Y/N spent hours upon hours looking up the history of the house. She found out that the previous owners had died in the house. Vivien Harmon died during childbirth and a little while later, her husband, Ben Harmon, committed suicide from the chandelier. They believe that Violet, their eldest child, fled the house, taking the only surviving twin with her.
Y/N frowned when she came across a list of all the people who died in the house; Nora Montgomery, Charles Montgomery, Tate Langdon, Hugo Langdon, Moira O'Hara, Troy and Bryan Rutger. The list went on and on.
She hesitantly clicked on the link beside Tate’s name and began to read the news article; 17 year old Tate Langdon killed 15 students at Westfield High in 1994 during a mass shooting. The teen fled the scene of the crime, returning to his home, where he was shot in his bedroom by a SWAT team.
Y/N shoved the computer away from her, swallowing thickly. Tate was dead and there was a possibility Violet was too, they just hadn’t found her body.
“You’re awfully curious.” Violet grinned, appearing on Y/N’s bed. “I moved here in 2011 after my dad was caught an affair with some chick called Hayden. My mom wanted to forget it all happened and she believed a change of house would fix things. For a time, it did.” Violet started to explain, her grin turning into a frown. “I met Tate, I believed he was one of my father’s patients, well he was, but then I found out Tate’s was dead. I was shocked, but I loved him I suppose, I just continued my life like normal. It got too much though, I committed suicide, I didn’t even know for over 2 weeks.”
Violet spent hours telling Y/N what happened, about her Tate got her mom pregnant to how she found out she was dead. Y/N couldn’t help but feel sorry for Violet, she had gone through hell and she still wore a smile on her face.
“Did you forgive Tate?”
“No, we occasionally talk but what he did was unforgivable.”
“And your brother, the twin that survived?”
“He lives next door with Tate’s mother.”
Y/N nodded. Her and Violet had bonded a lot, she understood Violet.
“Tate’s a monster, don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him in.”
The words rung in her head, replaying over and over like a broken record. Perhaps Violet was right, Tate was a monster.
Y/N sobbed, clutching a bottle of whiskey in her trembling hands. The icy water that surrounded her made her feel numb. She lifted the bottle up to her lips, taking a long swig, and cringing when the beverage burned her throat. She choked back tears, leaning her head against the cold bath tub.
“She’s gone…” She mumbled, vision blurred from tears.
Tate swallowed thickly, he watched from the threshold, he watched as she mindlessly cried, blabbing.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. Constance tried to drag her onto the property…” Tate whispered, running his fingers through Y/N’s damp hair.
It pained Tate to see her like this, so helpless. In the time that Tate had known Y/N, she had always been a cheerful girl, constantly smiling. She never cried. Yet here she was and had been for the last two hours, crying, fully clothed in a bathtub of cold water.
Tate brought his slender fingers up to his eyes and slowly wiped away his tears, he had to appear strong for Y/N, he had to help her get through this.
“I know. It’s not one’s fault, but we had a fight that morning, I-I told her I hated her and now she’s gone. The last thing I said to her was I hated her.” Y/N sobbed.
Tate climbed into the tub, situating himself behind Y/N. Y/N shuffled backwards until her back was against his warm chest. Tate wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding his fingers in between hers. He squeezed them reassuringly.
“I’m sorry.” He kissed the crown of her head, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he savoured the moment.
“I’m all alone, Tate. I have no one.” Y/N blabbered.
“You have me and Violet.”
Don’t let him in, Violet’s words rung in her head but Y/N ignored it. She needed someone and Tate was offering to be that someone.
She dropped the bottle of whiskey, the brown beverage mixing with her tears and the water. Y/N turned around in Tate’s lap, looking up at him. He leaned down, eyes fluttering shut. The pair were so close Y/N could feel his breath fanning across her lips and his nose brushed against her own.
She’s grieving over her mother, now is not the time to kiss her, Tate thought. He moved his head to the side, pulling Y/N closer to him. Her face burrowing into his neck, she inhaled his unfamiliar scent. Tate rested his head on her shoulder, his arms snaked around her waist.
Troy and Bryan Rutger † Appear 19 † Dead † American Horror Story † Oliver and James Phelps † Open (both)
Troy and Bryan’s only friend, Adelaide, died almost twelve years ago on Halloween night. And, apart from scaring away any new residents, the twins have been quite bored. They hope the newcomers will bring some excitement into the house again, though they haven’t quite decided if they like them or not yet. They’re both tired of staying in the background now that Addy is gone and want to interact with the people living in the house just as Tate, Moira and Nora have done. Thing is, while everyone living in the house is around the age of nineteen, they are merely twelve. So, what better to do than fit in with the crowd? And seeing as they’d be in their forties if they had lived, it shouldn’t be too hard. Now they are attempting to socialize with the new group, appearing to them as nineteen.
Adelaide Langdon - Best Friend
Secret: The twins are still up to their mischievous ways