Okay, so in honor of a new season of AHS, I have posted the next to the last chapter of the story. Thank you to any who have recently favorited or reviewed to remind me of this story.

I'm not sure about the new season yet, Wes Bentley (Edward's actor) is back with a main role and is talented is ever. But I do miss Edward's charm and Jessica Lange. The season does show promise, and I think we will see. But this is a tribute to Season 4 (My favorite so far).

Keep an eye out for the last chapter, and the last survivor. And maybe even some non-survivors. Review and let me know if there are any characters you want to hear from before the story comes to a close. And, as always, thanks for reading and being patient.

Chapter 10 An English Freak Show Massacre

Edward

Edward watched with a blank stare as Lady pranced the fence line inconsolably, occasionally neighing in the hope of getting a response from her deceased owner. It was as if she knew that Emily Beth was dead, and that they would put her in the ground within the hour.

The stable hand that replaced Matthew tried to feed her since Edward couldn't bring himself to do it, but she'd bit his hand in response. The last Edward had heard, he had had enough and was going to end her with a musket that very night.

Edward thought of every reason to compare Lady to Emily Beth, hoping her spirit still lived on somehow. So many characters in so many great novels found the souls of lost loved ones in something else. But Lady was not Emily Beth at all; he would be more likely to believe her spirit resided in Marina's old white horse that grazed politely in the back of the field.

But Emily Beth loved that horse so…

Edward stood without realizing what he was doing until he was already at the gate. That was how he did most things since Emily's death. Lady was already there, having made one of her numerous rounds. She stood still for him as he opened it wide and held it for her.

He squeezed his fingers on the gate. "Go, Lady. You hateful thing, go."

Lady didn't move. Instead, she sniffed his cheek. She nearly bumped his head as she slung her head to look over his shoulder, toward the tents.

Edward's face crumpled. "She isn't here anymore, Lady. Now go."

When she only made it halfway out the gate, Edward took his cane and struck her on the hindquarters. He just managed to push himself out of the way as she kicked up at him and took to the hills at a full gallop. Edward didn't watch the beautiful black horse with the blonde mane go, but he listened to the sound of her hooves growing further away as he closed the gate and went back to his sitting spot feeling heavier than ever.

Not much time passed before Otto came for him. Edward only looked up when he heard his name. The man with the pin limbs handed him a bouquet of red roses.

"I thought you would like these… To put on her grave during the service. Have you decided if you are going to give a memoir for her?"

Edward's eyes swelled as he eyed the roses. "I cannot say goodbye, Otto. Don't you understand? I…?"

"I understand," the dark-skinned man said quickly, putting a thin hand on his shoulder. "Edward, I'm so sorry. We are all so sorry."

Moments later, Edward stared blankly at the simple casket that the carnival hands had gently lowered into the ground. Otto and Lewis kept a tight grip on his arms because Edward couldn't seem to fight the urge to walk forward and stop the ceremony. Putting Emily Beth in the ground was final, and then her body wouldn't be with them anymore. All of her would be gone.

Edward helplessly sat through all the condolences with his hands folded on the top of his cane. He was only able to watch the scene before him because, after a few words from their manager about what a great soul Emily Beth was, he was forced to stop listening. He watched as Bertha held a cloth to her face time and time again to stop the tears.

Lewis was the first to present his memorabilia in her honor. He took the last dress she'd danced in, the red one, and gently laid it on the casket. He carefully placed the music for the schottische under it. "Her favorite dance," he said.

Otto brought the old box that Marina used to bring Emily her favorite treats before the little Spanish girl passed. Inside the box was Emily's family crest. He noticed Edward staring and stood up quietly. "Emily was a lady. She should always have something to remind her of who she was."

Bertha stepped forward, clutching Emily's wedding veil to her chest. She placed it on the casket, and then revealed a half-finished baby blanket by placing it on top. "She adored her wedding day, Edward. And I was helping her with this…"

The manager stepped forward without a word and placed a neatly folded blue show dress on the casket. "This was the dress she was known for wearing in the show. I gave it to her for her very first show." He placed a white rose on top of the delicate blue fabric.

Edward knew it was his turn and stepped forward with a vacant expression and tried to gather his thoughts. He couldn't seem to find them, even though he'd been planning this moment for the last night and day. He didn't know if he could give up anything of Emily's. But, right now, everything in their tent was too painful to see. He'd decided that he couldn't give up their family wedding rings, even though he had no one to pass them on to.

He also carried her journal in his coat pocket. He couldn't possibly give it up, but he ripped the page Emily dedicated to their unborn child out and wrote a copy for himself. He took her original from another pocket now, along with the folds of her wedding dress. He kept some of the lace from her wedding gown, but he was unable to keep it. His fingers were numb under his tight gloves as he slid it onto the casket.

He placed his family crest, along with Emily's letter, under their copy of Wuthering Heights. This novel was the first thing he'd gathered when someone mentioned a memorial for Emily's burial. Now he was Heathcliff, and Emily was his lost love.

Finally, he put the bouquet of red roses on top of everything and stroked the casket with one finger. "Oh, Em," he said quietly. "I'm so very sorry, my only love."

Otto was the first to cover Emily's casket with dirt. Lewis later helped him. They wept as they did so. The manager shoveled with a heavy heart. Neither Bertha nor Edward could bring themselves to do this, so they watched helplessly as the remains of Emily Beth were buried in the ground.

They tied a simple white ribbon to a wooden cross to mark her grave. She was buried next to Minnie and the other members of their family that had passed so long ago.

Edward stared blankly at those graves, pressing his palms into the end of his cane. Finally, he felt someone touch his shoulder and realized that he'd been standing there a while. Bertha looked up at the dark, cloudy sky to indicate that it was about to rain and walked away. Edward's feet followed her away from the grounds and, finally, into the tent he and Emily once shared.

He found everything as it was. Except for the bedding, this had been replaced due to the endless amount of blood that Emily Beth had shed before. He pulled her journal out of her pocket and just stared at it, letting the silence engulf him.

…

Sometime later, the manager tried to get him to assemble his thoughts back to his career, and the show.

"Use the darkness in your life, to tell them your story…" he'd said.

Edward wrung his hands on his cane, and just sat there. Enduring each word with a shaky breath and a blank stare. Little did the manager know, it took all his might to keep control.

…

To Edward: My Dear Husband,

I never dreamed I would fine someone like you to share my life with; I might be a dancer, but it doesn't take much talent to do that. It's learned. I consider myself a plain person. But you… You're the most refined, talented man I've ever known. And no matter what others think, it's an honor to call you my husband.

I remember when you pulled me from that terrible crowd and carried me to the tent. It feels like you've been doing this ever since, and all I can think to do is bring you a blanket. You are a good man, my love. I can't wait to see who you are going to be one day.

I can't wait to see who you are when you are forty, or sixty. And I can't wait to write more letters and record our story. It starts here.

With Love,

Emily Beth

…

"She was only in the way, Edward…"

"She could never comprehend who you would become…"

"You're meant to become…"

"Something far greater than anyone on earth could ever understand…"

"You are not a good man, Edward Mordrake…"

"But you are a great man…."

"On this All Hallow's Eve Night…"

"You'll show them what a great creature you are…"

"There's nothing in this life stopping you now…"

"For you'll be my servant…"

"And you'll get any other creature like you known to man who dares to summon us on All Hallow's Eve Day…"

Edward had been rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Suddenly, he stopped. And the revised poem he'd been working on as a tribute to his unborn child and late wife fell to the ground.

Edward: Under the Influence of the Demon)

It was after midnight. And Edward played a dark tune on his famous piano on the Big Tent, over and over. Repetition. Just like life was. The little man with the three legs, Lewis, was the first to enter the tent to find out what was happening to his dearest friend. Edward never turned, but the Demon face scowled at him. It watched the man's hand shake when he noticed its expression.

The little man made a fateful decision by ignoring it and putting his trust in the human the Demon now controlled. "Edward… Are you alright?"

Edward's finger immediately stopped moving. All of Edward stopped moving. Everything was silent. Lewis' breathing changed when he realized something wasn't right. "Edwar-"

Before he could finish, Edward drew the knife one of the kitchen hands left lying on the table and viciously stabbed Lewis in the head. Directly in the head. The little man's eyes flew open in shock. On reflex, he grabbed Edward's other arm, just before he died. Edward's face remained in a scowl as the Demon laughed.

Lewis crumpled to the ground, leaving the Demon's faithful servant standing tall. He kept the knife, rather than the dagger in his vest pocket. That, the Demon had a much bigger plan for in the afterlife.

Edward lowered the knife and walked the grounds in his trance. The Demon took him to Otto's tent, where the pin man was talking with Bertha. They had no idea that their former three-legged friend had been slain by the gentleman with the demon half-face.

Edward tightened his grip on the bloodied knife and lifted his chin, blue eyes wide and misted over as he watched his prey. The pale, obese woman was closest to the flap of the tent. The old Edward never stopped to notice before, but you could see through the flaps of these cursed tents.

"Poor Edward," Bertha wept, "It isn't fair… I miss her…"

"We'll always miss her." The dark-skinned man stood tall, directly across from her and kind as ever.

Edward thought he felt his rage slipping away into something…Sadness, maybe. He cleared his mind and flexed his fingers against the wooden handle of the knife. Bertha wiped away a tear. "I just wish-"

Her last words were cut off as Edward slipped through the flap of the tent and used that knife to slit her throat. She choked on what was supposed to be the remainder of her sentence, frantically grasping at her throat as she red blood that sustained her life stained her white dress red.

She fell with a surprisingly soft thud, leaving Edward and Otto to face each other. Otto gaped and instinctively reached for a dinner knife by his bed stand as the two gentlemen stared each other down. Otto never lifted the knife and looked upon Edward's cold eyes, as it waiting on him to yield. The dark-skinned man was the only one to gather what had happened. The Demon knew this man realized that Edward was not quite the same. It even wished it didn't have to take him.

The dark-skinned man put the knife down, unable to harm his former friend. "Edward…"

Edward nearly lowered the knife, causing the Demon to lose control. But all it had to do was remind give Edward a little taste of his own pent up rage and, just as he had done at Bedlam, Edward made one quick swipe with the knife at Otto's throat. The dark-skinned man immediately fell to the ground, leaving only one that the Demon wanted. One that the old Edward might not actually mind killing. But the sweeter part was, once the night was done, Edward's soul would be stuck with this soul for all eternity.

He found the manager just outside. The little man had found Lewis and was going to check on his other "attractions" and solve the mystery behind the murder. The Demon felt a surge of rage when Edward saw him; no, Edward didn't like this man. He'd helped others, but he'd caused them pain as well. Edward knew this. But the Demon liked him, and the dwarf manager was going to die at the hands of his Two-Faced Prince today.

One look at Edward's eyes said everything the manager needed to know to reveal his own weapon. But the man was short in stature, and Edward was strong and swift and in a fit of madness. Edward grimaced as he pierced the manager neck with his knife. But he didn't pull it out. He left the weapon lodged in the side of the dwarf's neck, to stay with him in the next life and for all the living to see here. Edward had no need for the knife.

He pulled all the freaks to the center of the grounds, just outside the piano. All in one place to be found by the many. And then there was only one freak left standing. Still under the influence of the Demon's rage, Edward turned to the noose he'd already prepared next to the piano he always played. The piano he practiced with, the piano he played in shows, and the piano he played for Emily and her friends. All he worked for was associated with his instrument.

Edward

Edward gasped for breath, feeling as if he'd just awakened from one of his many nightmares. He panicked when he realized his was choking and instinctively reached for his throat. He felt a thick, unrelenting rope tightening around it, strangling him. Edward gritted his teeth and gasped, grasping at the rope with his hands in an attempt to hold on to life. This bought him some time. He twisted around several times, trying to hold his weight up with just his fingers. He stared around the dark scene with wild eyes, looking for an explanation.

He found the piano… He'd meant to… Finish his devotion for Emily Beth and their unborn child. And his letter to his father saying he couldn't continue this show…

He panicked as his fingers slipped, causing the rope to constrict his airway to the extent that his vision blackened around him. He clutched the rope with his fingers and gasped as it twisted violently once more, swinging him around to face another direction. He frantically looked for help, but found his answer instead.

He saw the manager's little body lying outside the tent, just a few feet from the piano. A knife protruded from his neck as his dead eyes stared back at Edward. He couldn't see anyone else other than one of Otto's pin legs lying still just a few inches away from the manager.

Edward stopped struggling as it all came back to him. He heard the dark sound of the Demon's laughter as he realized what he'd done. Edward wept for a brief moment. His fingers were slipping. And no one was coming to aide him. He didn't deserve that kindness.

"I knew you would amount to something, Edward…" he heard the Demon say.

He didn't realize until it was too late that he'd gone numb and let his fingers slip. For a moment, Edward still wanted to fight the Demon back. But then… Nothing.

He heard his neck breaking as the noose claimed his life. Everything went black as the curtain fell because Edward Mordrake, the gentleman as they knew it, was no more.

…

Thomas Mordrake

Thomas Mordrake took his cane from the butler as he left the Mordrake family home, thinking of all the affairs he had to tend to. "Hester, be sure to the place spotless for the gathering I'm hosting tomorrow night," he reminded his son's old favorite maid as he turned to go.

"Yes, sir."

Thomas Mordrake closed the door to his home, but he did not leave his estate right away. His carriage was waiting, and everything was intact, as usual. Except that a familiar black horse with a blonde mane had decided that his front lawn was a nice place to graze. Thomas Mordrake briefly smiled as one of his stable hands, considered to be one of the best, managed to slip a rope around Lady's neck. Lady, however, cantered off. His stable hand was finally forced to release the rope after she'd dragged him to the other end of the lawn. Feeling the release of pressure, the horse bent its head to graze once more.

Another stable hand ran up to him. "Master Mordrake! We apologize for this…animal. Your carriage is waiting, sir, and we will be rid of it before you return."

Thomas Mordrake calmly set his cane aside and took off his overcoat, handing them both to a servant standing just outside the door. "I doubt it," he said, almost proudly. "She belongs to my daughter-in-law."

The stand hand, a young boy, smiled at the master of the house. "Oh."

The mare looked up cautiously at Thomas as he approached her.

"Be cautious, sir," his stable hand warned.

He only heard her breathing quicken when he reached for the rope around her neck. He stopped and withdrew his hand, speaking quietly. "Well, you've come a long way from home, haven't you? Let's get you home."

She stood still for him as he took the rope and petted her nose for a moment. The stable hand looked perplexed as his master prepared to return his daughter-in-law's horse to her. Just as he fitted a proper halter on Lady's nose, a frantic servant ran up to him bearing a message.

He offered the paper to Thomas. "Master Mordrake, it's… It is urgent."

Thomas Mordrake took the letter and broke the seal. After reading its contents, he pulled a second letter with few words out from under the formally written message. He folded both letters, stuffed them in his pocket, and solemnly passed the lead rope to his stable hand.

"This horse will require a stall. We will no longer be returning it to my daughter-in-law. Cancel my engagements."