Title: We Were Born To Die

Raiting: M

Disclaimer: 18+ This story depicts descriptive sexual acts and may contain adult content not suitable for most adults.

A/N: Even though most of my stories were starting to get flagged and deleted I still wanted to give this story an end before this one to is taken down.

I maybe returning to writing... As of right now my only priority was a closing to this. I may go back revamp Possession and add on to that.

Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story. xoxoxoxo


Larry was the first to taste Tate's revenge. The sound of skin blistering under the heat, the smell of the charred flesh made Nira feel more alive then she ever did when she actually was. She maybe stuck in that house but her bond with Tate was stronger then anything the house could ever do to them. The fact that Nira's mother appeared next to her, the smile that spread from ear to ear matched that of the Cheshire cat, that is if he was engulfed by flames to death.

"I take it your somewhat pleased by this? Enough to let the girls have some peace?"

"It's progress, but I still need more to feel my pain."

With out another word her mother materialized from the room, going back to her own self-inflicted hell down in the basement. Nira was no fool, it would take much more then her father's death to please the blood lust her mother now had in her.

Shortly later sounds of Tate's next victims screams echoed through Nira's ears as if she herself was beside Tate as he aimed his gun with deadly precision. The bitter smell of the gun powder swirled around her filling her nostrils as her senses were overwhelmed by the chaos and fear radiating off Tate's victims. All Nira could do was stand in their room, looking out the window waiting, anticipating his return. There was no room for failure, the end game is the return of him to the Murder House. A place where they have eternity to right the wrongs both and endured and forced each other through. This was Nira's chance of a happy ending. As deranged and deprived as it was, this is who they are. Death and destruction in a adolescent form, a cynical world view one retains after years of trauma and abuse. The irony being they were the ones who caused the most of the pain.

"Wasn't prince charming supposed to arrive to the ball by now?" The toxic resentment was plain as day as the words clawed at Nira's nerves.

"Now is not the time Moira."

"Oh, but now seems like the perfect time. What if your little Rambo in black isn't as able to escape as planned? It's a bit harder to take out a whole school as opposed to injecting someone to death." Moira couldn't barley finish the last word of her sentence before Nira had her pinned to the ground.

Nira saw black as she began to smash Moira's skull against the thick wood paneling of the floor. Her fruitless attempts at fight back gained her nothing but Nira digging her thumbs into her eyes until she felt the squishy pop of her eye balls exploding under her nails in the eye socket. The ghastly scream echoed through out the house, stirring to life the dark energy that possessed all those trapped within the tight confines of the house. Even after Moira's body went limp and the screams faltered Nira could not stop taking out her rage and fear on the lifeless corpse.

"Tate will return to me!" her breathing was labored and frantic as she continued on, oblivious to the sound of feet running up the stairs.

When the door slammed open, Tate stood there panting, blood stained as he watched Nira straddling the lifeless form of a woman in what looked more to be a fetish costume then any actual maid uniform.

"Jealous you couldn't come out and play with me?" The smirk that played on Tate's lips was more then an indicator he was thourouly pleased at what he saw.

Snapped out of her frenzy Nira stared at Tate like a deer caught in the head lights. For the first time in a long time Nira was speechless. Her mind wouldn't let her process anything yet alone form words she could properly speak. He was there, he returned to her. She really was going to have the one thing she most despretlly desired. The moment their eye's met and caught each others gazes they were both taken back. It almost felt like it was the first time either had ever seen each other. And both fell just as hard as the last time.

"Tate..." the sound was so weak it was barley audible, but it was enough to snap Tate out of his haze.

He was at her side in one simple stride, pulling her into his arms, breathing in the intoxicating aroma of her hair. "Ye, have little faith. Did you really think I would let anything happen to me with out coming back to you?"

Nira's knees buckled, her own body turning against her as the relaife of having him with her weaked her. Tate just collected her in his arms, holding her bridal style refusing to let her go ever again. Nira couldn't control the tears that began to pour freely from her eyes, her uncontrollable sobs echoing through out the room.

"Shhh... You were never one to get weepy over me don't start now when you have me."

With what little strength Nira could muster she punched Tate in the arm. "Shut up Tate."

"It worked your not crying any more." His shit eating grin was more then enough to bring the fight back into Nira.

"Your going to make..."

The sound of the door bursting open echoed through out the house, frantic cries and screams of Constance following the sounds of feet pounding up the steps.

"They got here faster then I expected." Tate simply replied as he went to sit on the bed, hand never letting go of Nira's as he lead her to him.

She quickly climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Or you barley made here as planned."

All he could do was scuff at her as he began to kiss and nip at the skin of her flesh. There was no going back as his door burst open. His body covered by the blinding red light of the scope. He glanced down seeing the dots bounce all over Nira's body. They met eyes for what would be the last time either would have a connection to the outside world. They were both condemned to spend eternity in hell with antique wallpaper and wood trim. Where others would fear this fate and want nothing more then to escape, both were more willing then they should to start their afterlives together.

"It's time." It was a soft whisper that sent a chill up Tate's spine. Her voice was so soft and weak.

She pressed her lips to his cheek as she went to bury her head in his neck. He looked up at the SWAT team starring him down. With out hesitation, a second thought he brought his fingers to his head in fashion of a gun, mimicking pulling the trigger. When he went to dive for the gun he knew was placed under the pillow just for this moment, the first bullet ripped through the transparent form of Nira moving on to rip through the tight flesh of his torso. Another bullet pierced through him followed by another, his body dropping from the combination of searing pain and the uncontrollable weakness that hit his fragile frame.

Nira never let go as the bullets riddled his body like a lifeless doll, even when he fell against the bed, plopping to the floor lifeless she couldn't let go. They laid there on the floor in a puddle of his blood, she slowly traced the outline of his face as he laid there dead. The blood lingering on her fingers left a trail as she caressed his face, the red of the blood contrasting again the pale white flesh.

"Wake up Tate. Why haven't you come back to me yet?"