The night was a clear sheet of silence. No sound could be heard over the deafening screams of the reapers that still lingered. The buildings and houses were empty; the schools and prisons were closed. Even the smothering flood waters were quiet. It seemed for the first time in all its life the great New Orleans would have a restful night.

Until the drums began.

The sound, at first, appeared to be coming from a lone percussionist but as the beat soared down the street the members of the ungodly drum-line increased. It wasn't music being played. It was revenge. The noise shattered the unspeakable silence like a brick through a glass window. It was every where and no where at once. It flooded the city faster than Katrina.

Following the sound was a herd of the dead. They walked unwillfully, uncaringly where ever the drums took them and their leaders knew this. At the front were two living dark skinned children. In their hands were a drum and baton from times of old. On their faces were calmer than the death behind them. Their stride was that of royalty. Even some lost humans followed their order.

Suddenly the drums went silent.

At the front steps of a beauty salon that belonged to none other than Madame Marie Laveau the children stopped. She waited like a queen about to be throned, dressed in white and the only thing not shrouded in darkness. The children stepped away from the crowd and took their mother's side. They gazed over the following in the same quick manner.

There was work to be done.

American Horror Story: Coven

Carrie White stared at the woman with the crazy red hair that had called herself Myrtle. Since what happened at the school she had become catatonic. She had hoped the stones falling from the sky would kill her so she could join her mother but she was alive. She had felt a heavy hit on her head and then warm blackness clouded her vision but when she opened her eyes she wasn't in the burning pits of hell like she expected. She was on a train in clothes she knew didn't belong to her. She felt tired as if she hadn't slept in months but she honestly couldn't recall anything else she had done. One second she was clutching her mother and then she was on the train.

She was very confused.

"Oh! The tea is here," the woman half sang half drawled out. A man in a nice looking suit-Tommy, not Tommy but some albino-appeared holding a silver tray with the tea pot and two beautiful looking tea cups. Carrie couldn't help but to think, Mama would never allow her to drink from such things, "Would you like some, Ms. White?"

Carrie's eyes jerked up. She didn't want to answer. She wanted to die. She wanted her Mama. But they were staring at her. She could feel the man's eyes too, even though she couldn't see them behind his glasses. In a hoarse voice, thick with non-use, she spoke, "N-No thank you."

Myrtle half shrieked as she shouted, "She speaks!"

Carrie's face filled with a heat she was used to from high school. Was the woman making fun of her? She had heard that phrase more than once in class. She speaks. It speaks. They won't be saying that anymore. They won't be saying much.

"I had given up hope of having a decent conversation with you. But then again," her eyes trailed up behind her glasses to meet the man's, "Many young witches are too busy parting with their old lives they have left behind."

"Wha-?" Carrie couldn't finish the question. What had the woman said? Had she really said what she thought she did?

The woman's eyes rolled as she began to pour herself a cup of tea, "Did you even listen to anything I said?"

Carrie's eyes furrowed and the tea pot was ripped from her hands and smashed against the other side of the train. Myrtle's face was as expressionless as the albino's. She seemed to be sizing Carrie up and Carrie did not like that.

"I suggest you keep your temper in check, Ms. White. I am not your enemy here," she spoke in a calm voice that seemed to make sense to Carrie when everything else didn't.

"I just want to know what's going on?" Carrie's eyes filled with tears as the memory of prom filled her mind. She still kept her ability on a flitting trigger that she could pull at any second but she didn't want any more destruction. She just wanted answers.

A deep breath escaped Myrtle's nostrils and she sent the man away with a wave of her hand. She got comfortable in her chair, looked down, then gave Carrie her full attention. Carrie was unnerved by the eye contact. She was never comfortable with it but she had to look as the woman as she began to speak, "You are a witch, Carrie. A very strong one. A very…misguided one. I wish we had found you before what happened at your prom but that is behind us. That's hardly the worst thing a witch your age has done. We went searching for you as soon as the live coverage hit the air. We found you right before your house collapsed-you were all beaten up, might I add. Where we are heading is to Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. There, under the guide of Miss Cordelia Foxx, you will learn to harness your abilities. And not let them harness you."

The words were foreign to Carrie but once they sunk in her breath was missing. She was a witch. She would burn in hell. But part of her didn't believe that. Her mother had hardly spoken about her Grandmother, Nana, but she knew enough to know that she was odd. The photo albums that Mama kept hidden proved it if not Nana herself. She had been so young so maybe her memory was distorted but she thought she knew. She remembered at just five seeing her grandmother light a candle with a kiss, light the stove with a wink. She knew it was hereditary. She just knew it.

"Are you alright there? I would offer you some tea but…," Myrtle smirked, "I know this is a lot to take in but don't worry. You are safe now."

In Madame Marie Laveau's Beauty Salon a young woman, no older than twenty, sat on the Voodoo Queen's throne. She seemed to be an almost exact replica of the woman, though younger and with braids for thinner and skin far darkener. Her eyes that were the oddest shade of blue and they stared down at her iPhone, scrolling down many pictures on her Instagram. Her lips were an almost blood red and a ribbon the same color kept her hair out of her face. She wore a long black cardigan and tight cheetah print leggings with black boots that laced up to her knees. She hardly looked like the heir to the throne.

"Ma, I've got to talk to you!"

A man about the same age stormed into the room. His skin was a slightly lighter complexion but his eyes were the same shade of blue. Although he wore a loose fitting white tee and the jacket of a certain Frat that had experienced tragedy his very muscular body was very obvious. His eyes gazed to the woman who smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, she's out on some errands. I'm in charge. What's up, Sebby?"

He rolled his eyes slightly before folding his arms over his chest, "It's personal, Mari."

"Come on, maybe I can help you," she shrugged, locking her phone and giving her brother her full attention.

Sebby pointed at her as he said, "Anything you can do, I can do."

She smirked, "Is that so? I guess I'll just consult the shells."

"No!" he protested, "Don't…don't do that."

"Then what is it?" There was some sincerity in her voice as she questioned.

The boy looked down as he angrily whispered, "It happened again."

"What?" she asked. "What happened again."

"I…," he glanced up at her, "I fucked someone an-and I drained her memory."

A shrill laugh escaped Mari's throat, "No! Everything again? Or enough to make her forget how shit you are in bed?"

Sebastion waved his hand and dismissed her, "That's it. That's the last time I'm telling you shit."

"Oh come on! I'm sorry," she apologized, not losing the amusement in her voice as she went on, "Was it another white woman? You know the weak can't handle us. You need a pure blooded woman. A strong woman with voodoo in her veins. Like Stacia."

He rolled his eyes, "This is why I can't talk to you. You and Ma keep pushing her on me. I don't like her, drop it!"

"We just want the best for you and you won't find it running around with these white women," Mari smirked.

Sebby began to walk out of the room, "Where's Dad?"

"He's out doing some shit for Mom. I don't know how he can help you. He can't do shit," she huffed, turning her phone back on.

"You need to stop talking about him like that. It ain't his fault he's like that and for your information this girl was spanish and it was just the last ten minutes and I'm out of here," he huffed and stormed back out the way he came.

Mari shrugged and unlocked her phone again. There wasn't much she could do about her brother when he was in his moods.

Zoe stood in the kitchen with one hand on the table and the other over her lips. Her eyes were watering with tears as she looked over the selection in the poorly stocked house. Her mind was racing over what she had been through that evening. She had to calm her own nerves while calming Kyle without screaming 'monster, monster, monster.' She couldn't do that to him. She had created him. She had been the one that made him the monster. She was just as much of one as he.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Zoe rushed to the source of the noise with fear of what it could be. She wasn't sure if she felt better or worse to find Kyle banging his head against the tub. She sighed softly as she looked over him. She wondered if he felt any pain. She wondered if he knew what he was doing. Zoe stepped to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Kyle, stop."

His motion completely halted.

Zoe couldn't help but to let her eyes fall over his face as it turned to look at her. Even in his Frankenstein state he was better looking than any of the men she had ever seen. But it was more to it. With his eyes helplessly staring into hers with the blood splattering over his face he still looked completely innocent, completely gentle.

His lips trembled slightly before he spoke for the first time since he died, "Kyle…Kyle, stop."

She couldn't help but to feel some pride as she looked over him. It was endearing how much like a kid he was-like a baby learning a new word. A brief smile tugged on her lips as she nodded her head, "Yeah…Kyle stop. Come on. I think it's time you got out of those clothes. You stay here and shower and I will go find something for us to eat."

She didn't wait to see his reaction. Since uncovering her curse even the thought of anything sexual made her uncomfortable. She hoped Kyle could shower without her help. Zoe wondered if Alicia helped him. Poor Alicia. She had no idea what had made Kyle do that to her-and true, part of her was scared that he would do that to her but his eyes…she knew he couldn't do that to her with those eyes.

But there was another problem.

Zoe went back to her position looking at the kitchen. She had to make something for them and fast. She quickly found a can of tuna, some crackers, and some mayo and began to mix it all together in a dish her mother had made for her plenty of times. Oh, her mother. Tears sprung to her eyes as she thought of her mother. She wanted her, she needed her, she couldn't do this alone.

In two bowls she separated the food and left them set up on opposite ends of the table. She needed to figure out what to do with Alicia's body. She couldn't call the police. Her last encounter with the cops had proved she was "weak" but she knew exactly who was strong and who could help her. Madison.

Confusion.

Thunder only happens when it's raining.

Fear.

Players only love you when they're playing.

Panic.

At the top of her lungs Madison let out a shriek as she catapulted herself up from the bed. Her feet hit wood and though she wanted to run all she did was fall. She excepted to hit the floor hard and she braced herself but instead she fell into solid arms. Madison's eyes flew open in a sluggish manner but the only thing she could see was bright blinding whiteness. She bat her lashes a few times to clear it but nothing changed.

A desperate sob escaped her throat. The only thing filling her mind was Fiona and her hand grasping her throat. She had died. She knew she had died. She knew she was dead.

"Slow down, slow down, sweetie. You're not back to your full wits yet."

Madison's body went rigid. The voice was unrecognizable yet she felt it fill her down to her core. She stopped her crying, she stopped her sobbing, and she stopped her thinking. Could she be in Heaven? The voice was so angelic and as she opened her eyes to look at it's owner she saw a halo of blonde hair surrounding bright blue eyes that shined like skies. She had murdered many people and done terrible things. How did she deserve this?

"Now, come back to the bed and sit down. Drink this."

Her head nodded weakly as she took the seat and took accepted what ever was being offered to her. It was a cup and Madison felt just how parched she really was. She shoved the cup to her mouth and began to swallow the liquid…until she tasted the thick drink. Madison spit it out as she opened her eyes, "What the fuck was that?! That was gross!"

Madison looked to the angel that had betrayed her to see it was the angel that looked betrayed. Tears filled her blue human eyes and her nose got the slightest bit of red as she looked down, "Well, you're got a mouth on you. Finish the drink. It'll help you get back to your full strength."

The woman, that was not much older than Madison herself, stood and walked to the other side of…where was she? It seemed like a cabin in some long forgotten shit hole, it smelled like one too. And what the woman wore? Madison would never be caught dead in but some how…some how it looked nice on her. She took a sip of the drink and held her breath. Madison held the warm cup between her hands and rested it on her lap-she realized she was wearing the woman's clothes-and spoke in a quieter voice, "Where am I?"

"A safe place," the woman smiled, looking down bashfully to play with the a string of beads on her door, "I found you in the bayou. Your…pretty throat was slashed to ribbons. I picked you back up and I nursed you back to health."

Madison couldn't believe her ears. It was then that she looked at the woman and realized who she was, "Misty Day?"

The sound of her own name seemed to brighten her up but she didn't look happy, not anymore. She nodded her name and in a breathless whisper agreed, "That's me."

"I-I thought you were dead," Madison recounted the story Cordelia told them. She was burned at the stake.

Misty nodded, "I was. But the waters have great healing properties. Helped fix you up."

That was it. She touched her heart as she looked at Misty, feeling a weird kind of connection or something to the girl. That was it. Misty had saved her. Silent tears fell down Madison's face. She thought she couldn't be saved. Especially after what Fiona did to her. All she had ever wanted was someone to love and take care of her but no one did. Her own mother wanted her mother, Cordelia wanted her to hide, and Fiona wanted her dead. But there she was. Alive. And feeling. Two thinks she never thought she could be.

"Are you alright?" Misty showed true concern. She glanced to the door and added in a cracking voice, "Do you want to leave already?"

Madison shook her head as she motioned with her cup and shrugged, "I don't have any other place to go."

Misty's face seemed to bright at that.

Madison laughed to stop the tears. She hadn't cried in front of someone not for a script in years, "Now, what's in this shit?"

She took a sip as Misty answered, "Crocodile manure."

Madison spit up again but Misty only let out an honest and pure laugh. Madison realized she was kidding. Or at least hoped.

Carrie stood in the room that was now her own. She had spoken with Cordelia but was sad to see Myrtle go. So far she really hated meeting new people just to have them leave her again. But Cordelia was nice. She was tall and graceful like she guessed a movie star would be if she had seen a movie. But she wasn't her Mama. Carrie White sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around the pillow.

She wondered where the other girls were.

Ms. Foxx and Myrtle both mentioned other girls with other abilities but she had yet to see one. Part of her was glad she didn't have to see anyone. She had heard an actual movie star was staying there and she doubted she would be nice. She thought of Sue in that second. Sue was nice…in the end.

"Carrie?"

The lap flew toward the source of the voice before Carrie knew what she was doing. She looked to see a girl, different, still in her ducking position. Carrie hid further behind the pillow, covering her mouth as she apologized, "I'm sorry."

The girl stood up, "That's alright. I was expecting it. Hi, I'm Nan."

"I'm Carrie," she whispered.

The girl smiled in a kind way as she nodded once, "I know. I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you but I had some things to attend to."

Nan walked from the doorway and took a seat at the edge of Carrie's bed. Instantly Carrie retreated backward to the pillows. She didn't know why but she felt like her skin was being pricked and poked with the closeness of any passing person. She had never really liked being touched-except for when it was Tommy-but it had become worse. Carrie felt like she was breaking apart, maybe she was beyond repair.

"You know…," Nan began, "The girls in my school used to pick on me. Because I wasn't a pretty girl. But I told all those bitches all their secrets. If I could do what you can do I would have done the same thing. It wasn't your fault and you will find love again."

Carrie's eyes were wide as she looked at the girl before her. She wondered how Nan knew all she did. It scared her but it also made her feel better in a strange way. She knew she liked Nan and she hoped Nan liked her too.

"I do," Nan smiled with a nod of her head, "Come on! I found where Cordelia hides the ice cream."

Carrie laughed in a quiet and scared kind of way. She hoped everyone else was as nice as Nan. Some how she knew they weren't.

Sebastian pressed his nose to the air and took another sniff of the air. All day he had been in search of his Minotaur father but he seemed to missing in their part of town. Sebby found his anxiety growing at the thought of what could have happened to him. He thought back to his fond memories with his father. For a long time the twins Sebastian and Marie II had no idea who their father was. They only knew the creature in the back that was their mother's slave; but at eight years old Sebby spotted a familiar birthmark on his hip that the three shared.

He took a deep breath but he paused, terrified.

He smelled his father's scent.

On the wrong side of town.

Sebby ran at top voodoo speed, sneaking into the shadows as well as becoming apart of them. Sebastian worked his hardest, much harder than his sister, to keep up the truce and to stay out of that territory. It wasn't easy since his college was nearly on the boarder-closer to the other side than his-and his Frat brothers weren't exactly thrilled to hit up the bad side of town.

But Sebastian couldn't think about that. He had to focus on finding his father and that was becoming easier said than done. A sweat had broken out as he moved. His heart flipped over and over inside of his chest. He was getting closer to the witches home. What had his mother done?

Outside of the house he began to make out a voice. A feminine voice, "-makes you a beast. They called me that too. But that's not who we are. We both deserve love like everybody else."

At that point Sebastian emerged from the shadows to see his father towering before a young dark skinned woman. He was confused by two things: the voodoo he smelled in her veins and her hand beneath her dress. It was obvious she didn't belong with the white witches but he couldn't focus on that. The only thing he could focus on was her strange action.

"Don't you want to love me?"

As his father took a step forward Sebastian made his presence known and thrusted his hand forward, "Stop! Get back home. Now!"

The spell had broken. The Minotaur turned and disappeared. Sebastian hated speaking to his father that way but he knew he had to. His father was easily influenced. He either only responded to gentle whispers or violent shouts.

Sebby turned back to the girl, "What are yo-"

Her eyes.

Inside of them were what seemed like centuries of sadness and heartbreak. She looked like someone had pressed pause on her and she was waiting to play. Sebby let his words fill into his mind. 'Beast. They called me that too.' Sebastian looked over her and though she didn't fit the traditional ideal of beauty she was not a beast, he knew that.

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak but the girl's face crumbled and a flood of tears cascaded down her face. She bit her lip and shut her eyes and tried not to stop and Sebastian's heart sank. He knew that look. He knew that feeling. Shame. Without knowing what he was doing his arms wrapped around her large form and she sank into him-and he could hold her.

He was confused by what he was seeing. Her skin, her scent, her blood screamed strength but her eyes, her tears, and heart showed weakness. He had never seen a woman from his tribe cry like this. Not the women in town, not the women in the salon, not his sister, and certainly not his mother. He didn't know what to with the emotion. He wanted to drown in it.

The girl was suddenly ripped from his arms and before he could say anything his sister hissed, "What are you doing here?"

He spun around, "I was following, Daddy. He almost killed this girl."

"Good!" Mari snapped, "She's a traitor and you will be too if Ma finds you here."

Sebastian looked back at the woman. She was on her back and just a bit of blood was coming from her head. He glanced at what ever window he saw light and squinted his eyes, making the glass crackle on the version of shatter. He turned back to his sister and they fled.

He made a silent promise he would return.

He had to.