title: retrogression
warnings: mature language, mature themes, sexual-ness later on. i'm not responsible for any possible trauma those under 10 might experience while reading the naughty words. & i warn that i might not update for long periods of time lol oops
credit & disclaimer: all credit goes to ryan murphy & brad falchuck & all the wonderful writers of ahs. i in no way own ahs. if i did, i wouldn't be writing ahs fanfiction
author's note: thank you guys for reviewing, favoriting, & following! it means the absolute world to me. hopefully i can continue updating this often considering summer is coming up. thank you again! enjoy! {i heart you}
chapter 2
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Zoe Benson sat up in her room, her head resting against the headboard of her bed. She let her eyes close as she turned her music up louder. The low hum of bass rang through her ears, drowning out the sound of her parents attempting to scream at each other quietly. She drummed her fingers to the beat, the feeling of her soft, warm quilt under her bringing her comfort. Probably the only comfort she'd felt in days, maybe weeks.
She attempted to focus all of her energy on the music in her ears but instead found herself caught up in a whirlwind of recent memories.
A six year old Zoe excitedly ran up to her mother, jumping up and down while squealing, "Mommy, mommy, I know what I want to be for Halloween this year!"
Zoe's mother chuckled. "What's that?"
"I wanna be a witch!"
Zoe's mother cast a nervous glance towards her husband who had looked up from his newspaper.
"Why do you want to be a witch, honey? Why not a princess or Goldilocks? You love Goldilocks." Her father smiled hopefully.
"Because I am a witch, silly. See, look!" Zoe pursed her tiny lips together, building up all the energy she could muster. She raised her arm and looked at her father's coffee mug sitting beside him on the kitchen table. Her small body trembled and slowly the cup began to shakily rise, coffee spilling from the sides.
"Oh my god," her mother gasped, rushing to grab her daughter. Her father's face turned a ghostly shade of white, his fearful eyes watching the levitating mug the entire time.
"Look, mommy, look!" The cup took a sharp turn, flying through the air, black liquid sloshing onto the floor.
"Zoe Morissa Benson, stop that immediately!" her mother screamed, yanking her daughter's arm down. The cup shattered on the floor and the room fell silent.
"Zoe, you hide, I'll seek."
Zoe giggled to herself, nodding to her best friend and running away.
She heard the girl begin to count and she ran faster, knowing it didn't matter if she found a hiding spot or not.
"17...18...19...20! Ready or not, here I come!"
Zoe was ducked behind a small bush , her long honey blonde hair poking out from her behind. She saw her friend nearing the shrub and knew she was about to be caught. Before her friend could find her, Zoe closed her eyes and felt the air around her turn cold. When she opened them again, she was behind a tree. She giggled as she watched her friend jump behind the bush, yell "Aha!', and realize there was no one behind it.
As her confused friend cautiously walked away, Zoe closed her eyes again and returned to her original spot.
Hide and seek was her favorite game; she didn't lose a single time.
Zoe tiptoed to her parents' bedroom, stopping just in front of the door.
You can do this, she told herself. You have to know.
Reluctantly, she reached for the doorknob, gently pushing the door open and peeking her head into the room. Her mother sat in her pajamas on the bed, hair damp and a book in her hand. Her father stood in the bathroom, brushing his teeth.
"Uh, guys?" Both of her parents looked up from what they were doing and faced their daughter. "Can I talk to you about something? It's kind of important." Zoe nervously played with her hands, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Her mother smiled and patted the spot at the foot of the bed, putting her book down. Zoe silently made her way across the room and sat on the mattress, still looking down at her hands. They had red little crescents dotted across the palms from where she had squeezed too hard.
"What's up?" Her father emerged from the bathroom, leaning against the door frame his arms folded across his chest.
"Well, um, lately I've been having these dreams - these really vivid dreams - about me when I was little." Zoe hesitantly looked up at her mother.
"Well that's perfectly normal, sweet heart," her mother put a reassuring hand on her knee.
"No." Zoe stood up and looked at the ground, messing with her hands again. "No, these aren't normal dreams. They're like flashbacks and I'm moving things with my mind and I can transport myself to different places and when I wake up my body feels alive like there's this power inside of me." She rambled on in one breath, feeling the familiar power slowly building in her stomach again. "The other day I tried something."
She took a deep breath and looked up to meet her parents' eyes. Their faces were an uneasy shade of green and their eyes were filled with worry.
"I felt this tingle in my fingers in hands and I looked at the candle on my dresser and something just urged me on...when I concentrated hard enough, it lit itself. Er, I mean I must have lit it with my mind...somehow..." Zoe trailed off in her own confusion, replaying the fear she had felt when it happened, but also the amazing delight that had come along after.
"Zoe, why don't you let your mother and I talk about this a little bit? We'll come up to your room when we're done." Her father attempted to smile at her, but it quickly turned into a grimace.
"Okay," she said quietly, shuffling out of the door, even more upset than before.
An hour and a half later, her parents were still "talking", and Zoe began to regret ever saying anything. If I leave now, I don't have to worry about it. I could stay with Ramona. Her parents love me. Zoe frowned and shook her head, trying to turn up the music more.
Slowly, her door opened and her parents entered her room, her father's face hard and emotionless, her mother's red and tear-streaked. Zoe removed her earbuds, waiting for one of them to say something.
"Your mother and I think it's time we come clean." Her father rested himself against the dresser across from her bed, looking down at the floor shamefully.
"It's not as if we had a choice," her mother muttered.
"You...found out on your own when you were little. Six years old; you had no idea what you were messing with. We hoped it would skip a generation like it did your mother, and her mother. It's in your genes." Zoe opened her mouth to question him, but he didn't give her the chance. "You were dangerous. Appearing all over the place, setting things on fire, moving objects and bringing shit back to life. We didn't know what to do with you."
"So we contacted someone, someone who had dealt with your...situation before," her mother looked troubled, searching for the right words. "She suppressed your memory. You forgot all about your powers. But she did warn us that it could be temporary," she shot a glance at her husband. "We just wanted to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" Zoe looked from her hands to her parents, back and forth so fast it was giving her a migraine. "What am I?"
Her father snapped, his voice a thunderous growl. "You're a fucking witch, Zoe."
The next twenty-four hours were a blur. In between tears and fits of anger, Zoe shoved her life into a couple of suitcases and stuffed them in the backseat of her father's Volkswagen. The drive was long - almost 4 hours upstate - until they finally arrived at an ancient building. The entire place looked sad, even the drooping exterior of the edifice. The property was surrounded by large Victorian-style gates, at least fifteen feet tall.
Who would want to try and sneak in this place? Zoe wondered in disgust. Or maybe it's to keep people from escaping.
The car slowed to a stop in front of the gates and her parents simultaneously turned to look at her.
"We're doing this for your own good, sweet heart," her mother said, seemingly trying to convince herself.
"You're doing this because you don't know what to do with me." Zoe stated bluntly, venom dripping from her words.
Her parents didn't attempt to protest; they turned back around in their seats as the enormous gates opened.
The car pulled up closer to the building and a young blonde nun came out from two large double doors. She smiled warmly at Zoe and her parents, who were currently pulling the luggage from the trunk.
"Zoe Benson," she extended her arms out to Zoe, who looked very surprised at her upbeat hello. "Welcome to Briarcliff. Don't worry, you're in very good hands."
Zoe began to think that her greeting sounded extremely rehearsed when she felt as if she was being watched. She glanced around the building until she locked eyes with a blond haired boy staring right back at her from one of the windows.
author's note: woof, this chapter felt so rushed but i wanted to get it out to you guys! thank you soooo much for the support. super special shoutout time: this chapter's shoutout goes to bex-the-awkward-panda-gurl for writing the amazing "lonely nights" & "i think you're beautiful" & for reviewing. the next shoutout goes to BsBLady because i'm obsessed with "if you're not the one" & for reviewing. go check these talented people out! {you're all lovely people, goodnight!}