Limitless
Right at 12:00 o'clock, the second it turned to the 31st, Charlie started the car and backed out of the driveway. They drove a few miles out, down to a place his mother used to take him to. They hiked through the woods at mid-day, making their way to a moderately sized pool of water. It was just the one she'd dove into in her mind- the cold autumn water, the stinging and the sorrow. Violet slipped off her dress and walked closer towards it. "Hey, what're you doing?" Charlie asked, uneasily.
"I just want to go for a swim," Violet replied, determined. She pulled off her shoes and everything aside from her underwear. As she stepped on foot into the water, she felt the cold rush- like it was taking over something inside her. Filling her up with each part that got submerged in it. As she got midway through her stomach area in the water, she stopped. "Lucy, come on, what are you doing?" Charlie pleaded. He began to take off his boat shoes, then jeans, then his top. He set one foot in the water, shivering, "Violet, come on."
"No! Don't come in, you'll get sick," she kept her focus on the darkness below the surface. She couldn't see the bottom three feet in front of her, like it just ended. Charlie stepped back a foot, still considering going in after her. Like a bird slickly diving through the air, she dove through the water. There was a drop-off, with what looked like no end. She went down further.
Leaves crunched off in the woods a bit. Charlie changed his footing as he nervously looked around. "Hello?" he asked, teeth chattering.
The sorrow and sadness, the coldness and the emptiness- it all consumed her. She let it devour her as she dove even deeper, now about thirty or forty feet down. She breathed in the water and started choking on it. Drowning. Violet let it drown her, knowing she'd be fine...
"Lucy! Lucy!?" Charlie worried.
A dark figure plunged into the cesspool. Violet kept her eyes open, as she floated down, fourty-fifty feet now. She watched as the tops of the trees mixed with the grey sky blurred together and drifted away. The dark figure wrapped around her and pulled her up- kicking it's long legs strongly, and raising her to the surface in a matter of minutes.
Tate swallowed the air as if he'd missed it for years. He walked her to the ground, trying to run through the water, panicking. Charlie freaked out.
"Violet?!" Tate screamed, watching her still body. A silent moment fell upon them, and then shattered like glass as Tate started pushing down on her chest rythmatically. After a few times, he adjusted her blue lips and breathed in. Charlie shed tears as he lay his jacket on her legs and a bit of her torso.
After pounding on her chest for a while, she coughed up water with a small bit of blood. She tried not to cry as she worried, seeing the both of them like that. There was a small bit of arguing, followed by Violet and Charlie driving back and leaving Tate.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Violet?!" Charlie yelled at her. She just looked off in the distance, coldly.
"Hello?!" he looked over at her aggrivatedly, "what the hell!?"
Violet bit on her finger and didn't look over.
"I should've killed him," Tate said as he paced back and forth, crying, his hands on his head like he was going to have a meltdown, "I should've killed him." The woods had darkened a bit, at 3:00.
"Yeah, you should have. But you didn't, now did you? That's why you need to listen to me," Hayden made him feel worse about this, "I mean fuck, I could've shown myself and done that whole thing better than you."
Tate continued to cry as he made his way quickly back to the main road and out of the woods. He'd appear in people's cars, undetected, hitching rides back home.
At 5:00 as they pulled into the driveway, they both just sat there. "Charlie, I'm sorry," Violet felt badly for ruining it. "Don't fucking talk to me!" Charlie said as he got out of the car, went around to her side, and opened the door, "get out."
"But Charlie-" Violet wanted to explain but there wasn't much of a way to.
"Get out," he demanded. "Where are you even going?" she'd worried that he'd do something stupid. "To hang out with my friends, jesus christ, it's not your fucking business-" he paused for a minute to breathe, "it's not your fucking business, we're over!" he slammed the door once she got out.
"Charlie, can't we like, talk about this or something?" she cried. This felt like the end for her. She didn't have much else aside from her family, who hadn't been there for her well when she was alive. "There's nothing to talk about, I don't love you!" he looked up as it started down-pouring, realising what he'd said he'd still been angry and therefor, continued: "I don't love you, and I don't love the rain!" he screamed his voice raw.
Violet's face went blank and she looked distant. She faded in and out like someone trying to get a t.v. connection, and then disappeared.
Pretend
Tate showed up to see just enough of the argument. He'd appeared in the backseat just as Charlie was pulling out of the driveway. Charlie let out a small scream as he'd noticed him and then followed up with, "what the fuck, dude? Leave me alone!"
"No, I don't think so," Tate proceeded to rip his throat out with his bare hands, splattering blood all over the car and the windows. Tate then searched through the glove-box for a minute before finding a pocket knife. He opened it up and stabbed and carved deep into his chest and stomach. Tate was now covered in blood, as he appeared out of the car.
He appeared to Violet, who'd been sitting blankly, staring off, in the basement. "Tate!" Violet cried out, "what did you do?!" Something was wrong with Tate, and she could tell.
"It's fine, Violet," he assured her. As she stood, she cried, asking him again: "Tate, what did you do?" He put his hands on her shoulders, "Violet it's fine, there's nothing to worry about now," he smiled and continued sweetly, "you don't have to worry about him anymore." Violet was freaked out, and you could see the shock in her face as she backed up a few steps, turned around, and ran throughout the house.
"Charlie!" she called, as she had made it to the top floor, she looked out a window and saw the car, "Charlie?" she said, her voice gone quieter. She went to the car, getting soaked by the rain. Violet screamed.
"Tate?" she called aggrivatedly as she stepped into the house. "Tate!" she screamed his name as if she were a parent punishing a child. "Taaate?" she called out one more time.
"Violet," he appeared by the staircase. "Tate, you can't ju-" she was cut off by him as he stepped closer to her, "you can't just pretend to love someone, and then leave. Pretenders don't deserve to be here."
"What the hell!?" Charlie yelled as he appeared in the kitchen and slightly emerged out. "What the fuck did you do to me?" he asked, looking at Tate, "knock me out or something? Then bring me in here?" Charlie was unsure of what was going on, so he quickly went to the door (as Tate gave him his murderous look) and ran out. He went to his car and saw the blood. He opened the door and didn't even recognize his own body. Charlie flipped out, and just decided he'd run to where he was going to meet his friends- still unaware of the tragedy that had fallen unto him.
As Charlie ran away- from Tate, from Violet, from the house- Violet faced the open door, watching. Tate wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "I told you I'd always be here."
Demon
Violet let Tate comfort her for a while, but didn't let him too close. She was still unsure of everything, while Tate had always stayed a straight thinker. Charlie kept his bedroom door locked (although he knew of the little good that would do). Roger didn't get home until the next day. Their free-day was gone, and Violet never did get that time with Tate, and never did get to know what he'd planned. Moira painted the car windows black, and Hayden stopped talking to Tate.
It was cold in the attic, where Violet sat going through a box with her old stuff. Tate came up the attic stairs, closing them behind him, "Violet, I want to talk to you," he said before feeling something strange happening. It was something in the air that effected him, something with a familiar evil. Tate snapped out of reality as he collapsed onto the floor. "Tate!" Violet called as she knelt beside him.
Soon his eyes had turned around in his head, making them all white. He'd stopped responding to her- he'd stopped moving. Blood started pouring out of his mouth, first a little, then a lot.
His body evenly raised off the floor, one foot, then two feet, then three. Violet slid backwards, terrified, calling out, "Tate!"
As he remained about six inches from the ceiling, his body dropped. Ghosts in the house were screaming, terrified. Violet checked on Tate, his eyes went normal and he seemed to be sleeping. She appeared in the upstairs hallway, "honey, I need you to come with us," Violet's mother insisted. "What is it?" she asked, defying them, running over to the window that her mother had been trying to push her away from. There was a little blonde boy, about ten or so, walking up towards the house on the lawn.
When Violet saw it, she knew. They'd all known. It was inevitable, and pointless to ignore. The Harmon twin- the devil baby, the evil that spawned from her mother.
To Be Continued
