I do not own American Horror Story or its characters. They belong to Ryan and Brad, trust me if I did it would never be like it is. Also, this story contains mature content. It is rated appropriately but if you don't like it you can easily exit out. I will not respond to negative posts, for I gave you fair enough warning. Other than that, enjoy!

April 4th, 1981

Tate sat in the waiting room with his dad Hugo, his chubby little legs singing from side to side as he played with his favorite toy. He was excited to say the least, for his little sister was finally coming. His family had been through a lot, but his mom promised him a sister.

He was actually the third child; he had a sister named Addie. But she had special needs, and accidently got killed after a car hit her on Halloween. Then there was his brother Beau, his needs were severe, so much so he had breathing problems that killed him too. Tate never knew of them of course, his dad told them though. He would tell Tate about them all the time, how much they would love him. When he was born, his mother Constance called him their miracle. Her perfect little boy. He was showered in gifts, spoiled rotten. Whatever he wanted, he got. It was him and his mom while his dad was at work, they tried day care…but it never worked out. That's because according to the day care worker, he scared the children.

"They don't understand him," his mother would say as explaining to why. "He's special, more special than those awful little brats."

Tate liked being at home; he could be in his room and play all day. But soon, he became lonely. He had no friends…and sometimes the imaginary people in his mind annoyed him. So, when he asked his mommy if he could be a big brother, she made sure he got that wish. So Tate watched, and waited. Seeing his mom's stomach get big, even spoke to her stomach. When he found out it was going to be a girl, he was even more excited. He never understood why his dad was not as excited as they were. Often times he would wake up to their arguments. But he covered his ears, trying to block it out. His sister will never hear that, he would protect her.

The door opened, the doctor coming toward them. "Congratulations Mr. Langdon, it's a healthy baby girl. You can both come and see them now." Hugo took Tate's hand, but he was hopping in sheer joy. His blonde curls moving all over the place. He even pulled out of his dad's grasp once they got closer, pulling with all his strength to open the door and ran inside. Constance was already holding the baby, wrapped in a pink blanket. Tate moved his body onto the bed to get a good look; he had waited 9 months…he had to see!

Just as he thought, she was perfect, sleeping soundly in their mother's arms. All her fingers and toes, cute little button nose. Tate fell in love, instantly.

"This is your sister Violet Tate," his mom told her as he reached out to stroke the newborn's hair. "Be careful sweetie, she's still delicate and new. You have to look out for her now, she's too precious."

Tate could only nod, leaning over to give her a gentle kiss on his sister's head. He swore then and there, he would be her protector. The world was mean, people were mean. But he would look out for her. She would never know hurt, or sadness. He'd hurt anyone who would hurt her.

"Together for always," he whispered to Violet. His vow, his promise. He finally got her, and he was never going to let her go.

September 10th, 1986

"Mrs. Langdon, please understand. We have to look out for the children and their best interest. Now we have been getting numerous complaints about your son. Not to mention the drawings he has submitted in his art class. They are…extremely disturbing."

"People believed Picasso's painting were disturbing too," Constance argued to the woman on the other line.

"…Not to overstep Mrs. Langdon, but Picasso didn't paint pictures of mass murders and Satanic imagery." Came the woman's reply. "Look, Mrs. Langdon, I know you and your family is going through a lot…with your husband's death. And I realize every way to cope is different, but I implore you…if you would allow us to give him counseling…"

"No, Tate is fine. He is only 9 years old, he doesn't need counseling. Not by your system anyway. I will give him a talk yes, but if you suspend him I will go straight to the school board. You can bet your money on it." With that she hung up the phone, letting out a breath as she took a smoke from her cigarette. Meanwhile, Tate and Violet were outside. Standing side by side as they looked down on the ground. A poor cat, spread out in display. Its guts spilling out and open as if it was some sort of experiment. Tate looked at the creature, his face sort of glazed over…void of emotion. A 5 year old Violet had the same look of indifference, but was enjoying a lollipop. The cat didn't stand a chance really; it was going to die anyway. If asked, the dogs dragged it in.

"The sacrifice has been made," Tate spoke, looking over to his little sister. "Now we just have to prick our skin and drink each other, and the bond will be set." With that he pulled out his pocket knife, making sure the knife was wiped from the sleeve of his shirt before pressing the blade on his palm. He did the same with Violet, hating she sort of gasped in pain. He didn't mean to harm her, but this was the only way it was going to work. To make up for it, he leaned down, sucking her blood from her hand and licked the wound in comfort. Violet did the same to Tate.

"It tastes bland," Violet commented.

"Yours tastes okay," Tate replied as he placed his hand on hers, their pricked palms pressed together. "I pledge to Lucifer. The morning star, angel of choice and freedom. I pledge myself to you as my other half. When you bleed I shall bleed, when you die I shall die. Forever bounded, until paradise takes us." He gave her hand a soft kiss, smiling his angelic smile.

"You hungry? Mom should be making pizza treats soon," he said, guiding Violet inside.

The Game started innocent, it really did. Tate hung around, close to Violet as she breastfed to when she went to sleep. When she was able to sit up and interact somewhat, Tate entertained her. Making his toys talk and making Violet squeal in delight. He helped her as she tried to walk, helped his mom when she needed Violet to eat the baby food. While Mama was her first word, Tater was her second. Tate even made the comment that he and Violet were going to be married when they got older. Constance thought it was cute, the musings of innocent childhood. Hugo on the other hand, was deeply disturbed.

People say that would be the reason of his suicide, others would argue his business was going down the drain and Constance was giving him grief. It mattered not, his life insurance policy, along her own family inheritance, was enough to support her and the children for the rest of their lives. When they asked, Constance would tell them their daddy just decided to go to paradise. Like Tate, Violet had no friends. But she had Tate, so when she cried about people making fun of her. Tate made sure they paid. When it was just them, they created a new spin on The Game. It was their own little world, their own rules and regulations. Constance thought nothing of it. Her children wouldn't have to worry about a thing, whatever they wanted they got. Even if it meant ignoring the horrible truth.

That her son was a psychopath, and was corrupting his own sister.

I hope you like this so far! Reviews give me love!