I know I'm using a lyric from Eclipsed. Sue me! Rights go to the creators of AHS, Me and Evans Blue
Harleen POV
My eyes scanned the kitchen as my mother and father rambled on about the pasta arm and other useless appliances. I was tired from the car ride from Georgia and just wanted to claim my room and sleep there.
My body made a complete turn around and I darted for the stairs. A blonde girl wearing a large, Haitian-like shawl with blue jeans beat me there and raced up the stairs. I quirked an eyebrow and started to follow her , hunted her even. I ran up the stairs, grasping the railing that propelled me forward.
When I reached the top the girl was nowhere to be seen. I twirled in a circle to check every angle of the hallway. Suddenly the air turned boiling hot, so I took off my straight-jacket. Now I was left in a black tank top. Rattling could be heard above me. Loud, clipped rattling that sounded like, Chains?
I weighed my options, something I always do in a time of uncertainty. I could climb the latter to the attic, or whatever was above me and explore the unknown, OR I could go back downstairs and seal my lips like a good girl scout. What was the fun in that? A devious smirk danced on my features as I pulled the string down to access the Attic.
Muffled voices were reverberated off the cavernous area, every now and then raising an octave. All the while sniffles rang out over the tones.
Hesitantly I stepped over the brink of the entrance and entered the upper floor. The first surprising thing I saw was a deformed boy clinging to the leg of a woman in her fifties with her back to me. Next I saw a boy, straight blonde hair yet it was wavy in places. He had the darkest eyes I have ever seen. They were sinister, an abyss. Eclipsed like mine, yet they looked just right.
The breath was kicked from my lungs as our irises met and they sort of melted into another. Suddenly, I collapsed on the ground as a large hole about the size of a penny felt as if it had been shot into my body, then another, and another until seven-teen holes were stinging and threatening to overcome my body with a comatose.
The boy said a final thing to the older woman and she walked over my body and town the latter. His hand hurried the other deformed boy away from him as his feet's vibrations tapped against the floor that carried him to me.
Without a word ,or at least not a word I could hear, he hauled me to his chest and walked me down the latter and to a eggshell room.
I know what happened in this room. I've been on the Murder House tours. Here Tate Langdon was shot seventeen times because he killed fifteen innocent people at Westfield High School. My vision faded to black as he placed me down on the tainted bed, possibly for good…
Tate POV
The sound of taps brought me out of battle with Constance about Michael.
I glanced behind her to find the angel is saw earlier today staring deep into my eyes. Her breathing hitched and next thing I know she's laying limp on the cold floor.
My gaze returned to Constance as I said the final word in our conversation was spoken.
"Norah will have that child. If I can have anything to do with it, She will have my son." Constance's face turned a shade of white and she stormed over the girl's form and went downstairs, outraged. Beau's grip on her leg was now nonexistent so he turned to me and asked "Play?" I shook my head and slashed my hand through the musty air as a sign of space.
"Beau, I can't right now." My eyes fixed themselves on her body and I saw red splotches oozing through her clothes. My phantom heart skipped a beat as I rushed over to her.
My hand went to her shoulders and another to her knees. I swiftly stood and expertly trudged down the latter, holding my sleeping beauty.
I could hear her faint breathing patterns, the slight groans that rumbled within her frail chest. Good, it was a sign her lungs were moving. I laid her down on my out-dated bed sheets. Violet's bed had been sold years ago because no one would pay money for my worn one. I pulled my hands away from her back and knees and moved to inspect her torso for the bloody wounds that had made themselves right at home there.
My hands found the hem of her tight shirt and started to pull it up when my knuckle grazed the hole and she screamed bloody murder. I jerked my hands away quickly and found that my patience was rapidly slipping. I cursed under my breath and was going to try to lift the stitch of her shirt again when her bloodless hands curled around my fingers, effectively stopping me.
My tolerance was as thin as the walls in this house. I looked up at her to see she was shaking her head mouthing 'Please'. I set my mouth in a firm line and grabbed at the stitching again and instead of pulling it up, I ripped the fabric up to her breastbone, exposing her black bra.
I forced the smirk that had crossed my face off it. I stared at the gaping wounds in disbelief. I caressed one of them subconsciously and in a second, her nimble fingers wound themselves on my hands. She flung my body on top of hers and then I was staring into the eyes of a fallen angel.
Her irises bore pain and rage into mine. After leaving nail marks, her hands let go of mine and moved to my hair. I was throw to one side of her form from the force of her strength. She moved to sit up when a strangled cry ripped through her throat. My heart sank and I moved on top of her, now straddling her waist. I secured her arms with one of mine above her head.
My eyes searched her stomach for any bloody holes, but found none, only dried blood and unmarked ivory skin. I breathed a sigh of relief when something metallic clicked behind me. I craned my neck to see her brother and mother hiding behind her enraged father who was holding a .44 Magnum
