"Oh, so now you're sleeping with him?"

I was quite rudely awakened by Violet eerily standing in my room with her eyes glued on me.

I glanced around my bed and noticed that Tate had vanished. I figured that was something I'd have to get used to.

"Are you trying to present yourself as a stalker or what?" I muttered back while stretching my arms up into the air.

"I told you this wasn't a game. Has he not told you what he did to my mother yet?"

"No, but I'll keep that in mind to ask him. "

"That'd be too easy. He might try to twist the story."

"He's been brutally honest with me so far. I mean, he told me about the people he killed, that takes some level of trust right there."

"He raped my mom."

I raised my eyebrow in disbelief. "He what?"

"He raped my mom and knocked her up. He has a kid and it's very likely a spawn of the devil."

"You need to leave." I ordered and with that, she disappeared.

"Tate! Show yourself. I know you're still here."

A trembling and miserable looking Tate emerged from the shadows and staggered to me.

"Jetta, I…I didn't want you to know…the monster inside of me…god dammit!"

"Calm down. Just explain to me why you did it."

His nerves appeared to be so shaken up that he had trouble talking without stammering. I gently caressed his back, coaxing him through it.

"Nora was always like a mother to me. She was there when Constance wasn't…but her baby is dead and she wanted one so bad, I watched her wallow in sorrow about it and I just wanted to help her, like she had helped me. I never meant to hurt anyone, Jetta. I just wanted to help. I wanted do something good for someone, for once."

He fell into my chest with tears streaming down his face. I gripped him tight. He was such a misunderstood boy, trying so hard to win the approval of those he cared about and never being able to do it quite right.

"You're going to leave me like everyone else did." He mumbled into my shirt.

"I'm not going to leave you. You just need some help learning the difference between what is right and what is wrong. I know you were trying to do a good thing, but like your choice to kill those innocent kids, that was the worst thing you could have done. "

"I want to learn right from wrong. I want you to teach me right from wrong."

"I will. But you have to pull yourself together first. Is that baby alive?"

When he pulled himself from me, I wiped his eyes with my tiny fingers.

"Constance has him."

"I want to see him."

"No…no, that's not a good idea. He's killed people. I don't want him to hurt you."

"Tate, think about it. Where was your mind when you made him?"

"I was alone and heartbroken."

"Exactly. You made him when your mind was restless and I may not know much about the world of being a ghost, but it seems to me that if a child was created through suffering then that's what would be spawned. Maybe if you had made the baby out of love, then that's the energy it would have been born with."

"I see the point you're making, but where are you going with it?"

"The power of love will always be stronger than hate. What if exposing him to positive energy could alter the negativity he was born with? And god, if he's living with Constance, there's no way he's been exposed to positivity yet. Plus, he's your son, Tate. Would you want him to go without a dad like you did?"

"Jetta, I don't know. I heard Constance talking about how he killed the nanny and he's only four years old."

"I'm sorry, but you don't get any say in this. Even if you refuse to lure Constance into bringing him over here, I can still walk across the street to her house myself."

I hopped off the bed and started throwing off my nightgown and rummaging through the closet for clean clothes.

"I love that you're unable to be restrained from something you set your mind to. It's kind of attractive."

I pulled my arms through a black shirt and then found a pair of shorts to go with it.

"Contain yourself, lover boy. We don't need a second Tate Langdon running around just yet."

"Just yet?" he inquired.

I blushed. "I'm just saying that you can never tell what the future holds."

"That is a nice thought though, isn't it? A little person that's half you existing."

"Exactly. That's why you need to see him, Tate. He will need you."

"I'm not suitable to be a father."

"Not yet, but you will be."

I sprinted out the door, leaving Tate at the murder house as I made my way to Constance's doorstep and gently knocked on the door.

She creaked open the door, staring at me with a raging amount of suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come visit and talk to you about some stuff."

"I can smell hidden motives on you a mile away."

I cringed, fearing she wouldn't let me into the door.

"You have some guts to try and come to see Michael, I'll give you that. Thankfully for you, I admire a woman who is fearless enough to even attempt it. Come in." she finally responded.

I strolled through the door, following her into the kitchen where she made me a cup of tea.

"Michael! Come down here, dear!" she shouted.

From behind a corner, a blonde haired boy with familiar dimples surfaced. He was a spitting image of Tate; it was beyond obvious he was the father.

"Hi there, Michael." I muttered.

First he glared at me, his eyes resembling the blackest of coals, but then his expression began to soften. Not enough to result in a smile, but enough to at least appear like a normal child.

"I knew something would happen between you and Tate. I knew it when Violet was alive, too. He seems to be attracted to resilient women, although I'd say you fit that definition a little more than Violet did considering I don't see those cuts on your wrists, too."

"Tate is a very misguided soul. He needs help being pushed in the right direction, but I believe he has always meant well."

"I think the house is what has driven him to the many acts of madness he has done. He never showed any signs of being psychotic before the damn murder house." She puffed on a cigarette before tossing me one as well.

"The house has acquired some demons throughout the years, I presume."

"Demons would be an understatement. I'd say it's created them more than acquired."

"He looks just like Tate, Michael."

She smiled widely at the words. "He's given my life meaning once again. After losing my Addie, I thought I had lost it all."

"Have you considered letting Tate have a relationship with him? Considering he is his son and all."

"Tate has never acted as though that was something he wanted and I don't know how I would feel about him going over to that house…I don't want him to be tainted."

"He already is tainted. He was made through the epitome of suffering. He needs to be shown positivity if there's any chance at redeeming his soul."

"His soul doesn't need to be saved."

"Is that what you told yourself when he killed the nanny?"

Constance hastily put out her cigarette before sighing. "How would Tate being in the picture help Michael? I love my son, but the darkness he has carried with him would only make things worse."

"Give me some time to work with Tate before they're introduced. Give me until Halloween, when spirits can roam the earth. I'm going to try and help him."

She chuckled. "Oh, honey, you wouldn't be the first."