Michael stood at the edge of the giant open-topped metal vat, peering down into the murky blue-black depths. There was water in the plant's system, but the recycling mechanics had failed. The Los Angeles-Glendale Reclamation Plant was still; the only sounds were the creaking of metal as it settled and the caw of the large black birds that followed the Antichrist around.

"Can you fix it?" Michael asked the man standing next to him.

Dr. Hugo looked down into the still waters as well. The Chinese-American man had his degree in engineering, with a minor in ecology, but the plant was beyond his scope of knowledge. "I wouldn't even know where to begin," he admitted, straightening. "This is a very complex machine."

Michael sighed irritably. "Yes, I know it is. That's why I need HELP."

He paced the walkway, noticing that local birds had made several dozen nests along the edge. Most of the birds were gone but there were a few stubborn tenants. Some didn't even look like birds but some sort of twisted bird parody, more akin to the prehistoric toothy Pteranodon than the sparrows and pigeons they competed for turf with.

Michael growled his frustration and stalked back over to the nearest murky water tank. He was tired of setbacks and having to constantly fix things that shouldn't be broken in the first place. If this was what being god was all about, he was starting to think maybe he didn't want the position. But glaring his hatred at the broken-down reclamation plant wasn't getting anything done. Looking around, he saw the Los Angeles River over to his left. The plant was perched partly over the river. He could sense the living things in the cold water. While there were some surprisingly large and beastly things down there, there was nothing there that could help him.

But it gave him an idea.

Freeing his thoughts from his body, he raced down the river, toward the sea. He was one with the water, cold and fluid, moving almost as fast as he could think. It was a wild, wonderful, wet ride; it was like shifting through space only he didn't have to know his destination in order to get there. In just a few seconds he was off the coast of Long Beach and headed out among the bigger aquatic creatures in Queensway Bay. The water didn't feel as cold out there as it did inland. It was salty and a comfortably cool temperature that felt good all over, inside and out. It was so tranquil and comfortable, it was tempting to remain that way, under the waves. The bad dreams and life's uncertainties couldn't touch him out there. Nothing could.

But he knew he still had work to do. If he stopped now, it would be the same as giving up, which would render everything he'd done so far with his life completely pointless. Self-pleasure was nice, but it wasn't his endgame. Wasting no time on regret, he rallied his strength and found what he was looking for. In a few moments, his consciousness reunited with his body.

Snapping back to himself, Michael saw Dr. Hugo staring at him in obvious concern. Michael felt blood running from his nose and hastily pressed his sleeve over it. Then the ground started to shake.

"We should get down," he advised the doctor. In hindsight, he probably should have thought of that sooner, but it was too late now.

"What's happening?!" Dr. Wong wanted to know as they ran for the scaffolding. He had to holler because the shaking was causing the whole metal structure to vibrate and clatter like an untuned set of tubular bells.

"Green energy!" Michael shouted back.

There wasn't time for a better explanation, or for the stairs. Grabbing the older man's elbow, Michael shifted them back down to the ground where the car was. That wasn't far enough, he knew.

"Get in!"

He didn't wait to see if the man would obey but hopped into the Lamborghini and fired it up. Dr. Hugo scrambled in on the passenger's side and managed to pull the door shut as Michael floored the gas pedal. A cloud of dust went up as they peeled out of the parking lot.

The doctor twisted around in the seat to look back, still not sure what they were running from. As they sped away from the structure, he could see what looked like a giant wave rolling up the river, moving fast enough to wash away boats, sheds, and anything on shore that wasn't bolted down.

"What is it?!" Hugo had to know.

Michael glanced in the rear-view mirror at the swelling black wall of water. "The Leviathan."

"The what?"

Behind them, the wave crashed into the water plant. Instead of the expected destruction, however, the water snaked over it like a blanket, moving in ways water had no right to move.

"A-ya!" the doctor exclaimed. "The water..!"

"It's not water," Michael insisted. The man's shock was growing tedious. "It's a water demon. It's going to power the plant for us."

They whipped around a steep corner past the zoo entrance and out of sight of the utility plant. They could still feel the tremors of whatever the creature was doing to the water facility in its hostile takeover. Dr. Hugo shifted so he was seated correctly and then looked at Michael, his eyes huge.

Michael could feel his attention and liked the control it empowered him with. "You're going to be the new keeper of the water plant," he decided.

"Me?" blurted Hugo. "But I don't know anything about water plants! I told you—"

"And you know nothing about demon sea serpents," Michael interrupted, using the condescending tone Mother Constance had used on him as a child when he was being a tedious burden. "So you have a lot to learn, don't you, doctor?"

He sent a meaningful glance the man's way that let him know that there wasn't going to be any negotiation or refusal accepted. Michael needed someone to tend the beast he'd just enslaved, and he didn't have the time or desire to do it personally. The man seemed to deflate as he accepted his fate, which made the Antichrist smile.

"Cheer up," he said consolingly. "Nobody else knows more than you do. You're already a local expert just having seen it! Learning how to feed and manage it should be easy for a PhD."

Dr. Hugo didn't know what to say to that, so he just sank lower in his seat. Michael smiled bigger and turned on the local radio station, just in time to catch the beginning of Tom Cochrane's "Life is a Highway".

…

Tate wandered down the rocky path to the secluded patch of beach he liked to think of as his. His hands shoved deep into his pockets, he split his attention between the path ahead and the shoreline. Fog swirled over the sand and the waves equally, fully covering everything but not thickly. He could move freely but he could also see quite a distance that afternoon. When he got down to the sand he noticed that most of it was still covered in snow. He never imagined he would see snow in Los Angeles or on a beach.

He paused near a small blue-white drift and stuck his fingers in, wondering if there was enough to craft a snowball. Violet had stayed behind to talk to her parents about something, but she said she would join him when she was finished. It would be fun to pelt her with one when she came down. The stuff was too wet to compact into a proper ball though.

"Hell must've frozen over," he quipped, letting the mushy stuff dribble from his hand.

With no one around to appreciate his wit but the rolling waves of the ocean, he lost interest in the snow. As he moved closer to the surf, he noticed he could see further out than he had in a while, even at Halloween. He found himself a large flat rock to sit on and wait for Violet. Normally he would sit on the sand, but it was abnormally damp from the weather. He didn't want a wet butt. He could resist the damp effects if he really wanted to. It would be resisting his own belief in his realness though, so he generally avoided things like that when it wasn't necessary.

He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped both arms around them. He hoped Violet would get there soon. He didn't want to get too lost in his thoughts. Too many weird things had happened lately that he didn't understand, things he was pretty sure he didn't want to understand. Things like Patrick crying the other night, or the strange incident with Dr. Harmon at the beginning of the week. Stranger things than usual were happening at Murder House, which was why Tate and Violet decided to meet on the beach.

Despite not wanting to get lost in his thoughts, there was nothing else to do and Tate couldn't just not think. He tried drawing in the sand with his finger but that was hardly distracting. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Violet was anywhere in sight and startled when he saw several shadow people standing on the beach behind him, all in a silent row.

He scrambled to his feet and faced them, fists clenched in case they tried to jump him. But they just stood there. Silent. The mist swirled around them, so he knew they were there and not something he was imagining.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

They didn't move. None of them spoke.

Unnerved by the silent treatment and irritated by it as well, he bent to grab a flat beach stone. He tossed it and caught it, feeling its heft as he straightened again. "I know Hollywood's fresh out of celebrities but you dickheads have got to stop following me around," he said with false flippancy. "I don't do autographs."

With that, he lobbed the rock at the nearest one of the shadow people. He really put some curve and speed into the pitch. He wanted to see the thing's porkpie hat fly off. The stone struck and bounced harmlessly off the creature's head, landing in the sand nearby. The hat stayed put.

Tate gave the line of dark figures new appraisal. They were effectively cutting him off from physical access to the steps that led off the beach. They were between him and Violet. He could see her up on the bluff, heading for the stairs. She hadn't seen the shadow people yet. Taking a step to the side, he tried to shift himself to her side of the wall of cloaked figures. It was quite a surprise when he just took a step to the side. He was still between the shadow people and the ocean.

In order to get to Violet, he would have to cross that line of hat men.

Author's Note:

Happy new year!

At least it is at the time of this writing. In this fanfic series, 2020 was the year the world started to come to an end. If you look at the last chapter of American Horror Story Season 1.5 E12, it was posted in 2014. We've finally caught up to where the story was at 5 years ago.

I figured for the first chapter of the year I'd bring things in with a fun bang. Dr. Hugo's a DC Comics doctor who works at Arkham. He's played by BD Wong on Gotham, and I love BD Wong, so I borrowed his name and likeness for my story. Who better to ride herd on this madhouse? Also: Water of Life in the Christian sect refers to the Holy Spirit. Apparently there's also some connection to the Water of Life and New Jerusalem in Christian and Jewish holy documents but I'm not sure what. I only just learned there was a New Jerusalem in scripture. I named the one in this story after 'Salem, Mass. I'll have to look into this Biblical New Jerusalem...

So, will Tate break on through to the other side? Was that a vague nod to my Asylum fic? Maybe! We'll find out next time.