Chapter 6

To Tate's annoyance, she was right. The last thing he wanted was for Lawrence or his mother to come up and see what all noise was about. With a sigh, he crawled off of her. He didn't want to tease her in front of his brother and sister. That would just bee too awkward for words. There's always later. He thought. Always later. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs as he glanced down at Violet. How is she so beautiful? His mind wander. As she sat up, Tate watched. Everything caught his eye. The way her hair flowed over her shoulders like a silk curtain. How her clothes ripped along her back and sides, shifting to fit around her slight curves. How her legs crossed in front of her and her hands pushed her closer to him so she could wrap them around the arm closest to him and lay her head gently on his shoulder. His eyes didn't miss a thing. With a soft chuckle, Tate gently laid his head on hers as they sat and watched Addie and Beau play together. Every so often they'd hear the footsteps of Constance or Lawrence underneath them but they never bothered the playing sibling or Violet. They were all out of the way so there was nothing to complain about. Shockingly. Usually Constance would find something but she was apparently keeping her mouth shut.

"What else should we do today?" Tate's voice broke the silence. Violet looked up and checked on his shoulder. Small spots of blood shown through shirt.

"Well, we should probably clean that up." Tate glanced at it.

"It's still bleeding?" He pondered. He was generally a fast healer. The scars on his wrist were proof of that. Even one of the deeper ones he managed to make started healing in an hour or two. These must have been deeper than he thought. "Okay. I'll grab my kit." As they exited the attic, Addie remaining to play with Beau, Violet quietly and stealthily made her way to Tate's bedroom. He, on the other had, walked to his bathroom and grabbed a small white box from behind the mirror. Once he closed it, two little figures darted from the doorway behind him. What the-. He made his way to the door and glanced up and down the hallway. Empty. "I know I didn't imagine that." He whispered to himself. Shaking his head, he made his way back to his room. "I swear, I'm losin' it." He mentioned to Violet who was spinning in his chair at his desk.

"Why do you say that?" She stopped and stared at him with curious eyes.

"I closed the door to my cabinet and I was two kids run past. Didn't hear any footsteps. Didn't see anything when I looked down the hall, but I know I saw them." Tate rubbed his temples as he tossed the box on to his bed and sat down next to it; elbows on his knees and eyes closed. He heard Violet stand from her chair and walk towards him.

"Hey." She whispered. "You're not going crazy." She said reassuringly. "Whether you want to believe it or not, there are ghosts here. Lots of them. All with their own depressing, twisted, demented stories." She seemed so sure of this, it made him uneasy.

"Sure." He rolled his eyes. Ghost stories were stupid to him, but this house was starting to change his mind. He wasn't going to completely give in, though. Not completely. But it was a possibility he would keep in the back of his mind. "Then what's the story about the two kids?" He wondered. Violet just shook her head.

"Another day." She said quietly as she started pulling his shirts up, revealing his white skin. She tossed them to the side and gently ran her cold hands around his wounds. His skin reacted by producing goosebumps down his arms and back. He handed her the little white box and let her go to work.

"How did this happen again? I don't think you told me." With a small piece of cloth, she started dabbing at the blood that was smeared around the scratches to clean them.

"You know, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you. Hell, I hardly believe it myself."

"Try me." She challenged and with a sigh, he started.

"Well, you know last night when the power went out? I thought I heard Addie screaming my name in the basement. I ran down there but she wasn't there but I saw this child-like thing. It was just sort of standing there." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Anyway, I moved closer to it, trying to get a better look and it jumped on me and scratched me. Tore a whole in my shirt and everything. I don't know what it was or where it went but I know it was something." Welp, if that didn't make her run, point, and laugh at him, he didn't know what would. He sounded like a lunatic. Her hands paused for a moment and he heard her whisper something that sounded like Adus. "What?" He glanced back.

"Nothing. I was just thinking aloud. How good of a look did you get at it. Might have just been an animal or something."

"Nah, it was short, stood on two legs, had actual hands and breathed like a kid with asthma. It didn't have much hair. Kind of like an old persons. Like it was thinning or something. I don't know, it was really dark."

"That's weird. We could always go look for it. Maybe it's still in the house."

"Noooo. No. No. I'm- I'm good. I'd rather just pretend that I was dreaming and I scratched myself."

"Someone afraid of a little child?" He snickered.

"Yes. And I'm not afraid to admit it. This hurts." Glancing back down to his shoulder, he saw just how deep the gashes wore. "Shit." He whispered. "I think I might need stitches." With a huff, he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Violet wrapped her hand around his wrist to stop him.

"I'm gonna go show this to my mom. She'll take me to the doctors to get it stitched up."

"I could do it." She offered.

"No offense, but I think I want a professional to do it. I don't want it to get infected or anything. Especially since I need to stay in shape for track." Violet nodded.

"I'll be right back. Stay here and don't mess with it." Tate nodded and watched as Violet disappeared. His ears strained to hear her and he heard the faint sound of the front door opening and closing. After waiting for what seemed like an hour, but really it was only twenty minutes, he heard the door open and close again. There was another set of footsteps along with Violet's light, graceful ones. "Knock, knock." She said as she swung the door open. Behind her was a tall, muscular man. One that sort of gave Tate's ego a punch. Who is this dick head? Tate thought. "This is Patrick, my... neighbor." It seemed like she was trying to think of the right word to say. Almost like she was covering something up.

"Neighbor?" Tate thought. He'd never see this guy before.

"Hey." The tall blonde said as he extended his hand before him. Tate shook it; his grip firm. Patrick's eyes brightened at the contact and his eyes smoldered. "Nice to meet you..." His voice lingered.

"Tate." Quick and strong.

"Tate." Patrick repeated with a smile. "Good name. I like it." Uhhh... What is this guy doing?"

"Umm. Thanks." Tate's hand fell to his side and he fiddled with his pant leg, suddenly feeling exposed. "Uhh, what are you doing here, exactly?" His eyes darted to Violet's.

"He's an EMT. I figured he'd do a better job stitching you up."

"And from the looks of it, you're going to need quite a few. What, did a dog attack you or something?"

"No, uhh. I don't know what did." Tate didn't feel like sharing the story again especially to a stranger. Violet didn't seem to think he was crazy but this guy sure would. He didn't want to make a name for himself in the neighborhood. Even though Tate seriously doubted that this guys lived around here. Seriously, where did he come from? Patrick set a bag down on Tate's bed and he pulled the chair in front of Tate's desk closer to them, motioning for Tate to take a seat.

"Just take a deep breath. I'll finish this quickly. It'll pinch a bit but it shouldn't hurt too much." Violet sat in front of Tate on the floor and put her chin on his knees as she looked up at him. Tate didn't feel anything at first other than a rough cloth being dragged over the scratches, but then the pinching started. He took in a shark breath, his hands clenching the fabric that laid over his knees and his eyes closed as he focused on something else. Violet's cold hands started rubbing soft circles on Tate wrists causing his fingers to loosen and hers to slip thought the spaces. Patrick's hands moved quickly as he promised. Tate's posture soon relaxed as his shoulder became numb to the sting. As silence rang through the room, multiple things sped through Tate's mind. What exactly scratched him? What else could be in the basement? Who were the kids he saw in the hallway? Who screamed his name when the power went out? But one soon came to the forefront out of all his thoughts.

"So, how do you to know each other?" Sure, they were neighbors, but Tate didn't hang out with any of his neighbors, let alone know them well enough to ask one of them to come stitch up a wound on their friends shoulder.

"I told you. He's my neighbor." Violet stated.

"Yeah, I caught that bit but you know him well enough to ask him to come over to some strange persons house to clean up a cut? A house that apparently has a reputation?"

"Hey, not everyone is as antisocial as you."

"Says the girl who never goes outside and sneaks into my house."

"Whatever." Violet stood up, pulling her hands away from Tate's so quickly it took a moment for the movement to register.

"Hey, hey. Stop it." Patrick interjected. Violet paused, glaring at him as she crossed her arms over her chest; her safety mechanism. "Her dad's a psychiatrist and on more than one occasion, one of his patients would go a little deranged and I would come over to patch him up, okay? We're all friends here." Though his excuse, Patrick finished stitching up Tate. "There you go." Another couple of dabs with a cloth and he was done. "All finished." Violet turned the other way while Patrick gathered his things and made his way to the door.

"Thank you." Tate muttered, his eyes fixed on Violets defensive form.

"You're welcome."

"Try to be quiet. My mom's sucks and would probably flip if she saw you in the house." Patrick nodded and made his way down the hallway. Tate couldn't hear any footsteps beyond that point. He thought about peering out of the window to check and make sure he made it out, but Violet's pissed expression kept him grounded.

"You got anything else to say?" Violet snapped.

"That depends. You going to continue keeping secrets or biting my head off every time I ask a simple question?" A light knock on the front door cause both of their heads to turn.

"Tate! Get the door!" Constance's voice rang through the house.

"You get it!"

"Damn it, Tate! Get the door or your grounded!"

"Seriously?" He whispered to himself. "Fine!" Without looking back at Violet he muttered, "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." As he made his way down the stairs, pulling a black shirt on as another soft knock sounded through the house. "I'll be right there!" He called. After unlocking the three locks his mother added to the two that were already present when they moved in, Tate's eyes widened. A young women wearing a sexy maids outfit stood in front of him. Her skin was like porcelain, her lips soft and pink, her hair up and deep red. "Umm. Hi. May I help you?" Tate stammered a little, her appearance taking him off guard.

"Yeah. Is your mom or dad home, big boy?" Her eyebrow cocked up as she looked him up and down.

"My mom's upstairs but she's kind of busy right now." Tate started fidgeting with his pant leg. "May I take a message?"

"Just let her know that Moira stopped by. I'm a maid, I come with the house. I'll run over the details with her tomorrow."

"Oh. Okay. What's your phone number so I can have her call you when she's not busy." Tate picked up a pad and pen by the phone and wrote her name down.

"I don't have a phone. But I'll come back tomorrow at this time."

"Okay. I'll let her know." He made sure to keep his eyes on hers. Though he wouldn't deny, he was tempted to look her over. He's a guy after all. But he did have morals.

"Alright. You do that." With a wink, she walked away from the house, swaying her hips seductively. Yeah, yeah, he looked. Is it really such a surprise? He just won't touch. Returning the notepad to its spot, Tate made his way upstairs once again to find Violet standing in the same spot. She hadn't moved an inch. Her face still held that pissed expression and her arms were still firmly crossed. "Hey." Tate muttered as he closed the door behind him. Her eyes darted to his then back to the floor. "Okayyy." His voice lingered. What else could he do? He wasn't going to apologize. He was just curious. It's her own fault that she got all pissy. Tate sat on his bed and put his hands together; silence.

"I'm gonna go."

"Why?" Tate whispered.

"I don't need a reason."

"You know, if you're just going to keep walking off every time we get in a tiff, what's the point in even bringing things up?" It annoyed Tate that he couldn't ask simple questions without her tearing his balls off.

"Don't worry about it. I'll stop bringing shit up from now on." Her cheeks turned read as she made her way to his door.

"Will you stop?" He said, standing and catching her arm before she could turn the handle. "Will you stop running away from me?" Shockingly, she didn't yank her arm away or yell at him. But she did sniffle. Why was she crying? He pulled her closed, wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Hey, you never have to apologize for crying."

"Not just for that." Tate caught on.

"Hey. Don't worry about it." They stood in silence for a long while. Violet's arms found their way around Tate's neck while Tate's snaked around her waist. Tears continued to fall from her eyes while they began to sway to unheard music. While they were off in their own world, neither of them heard the footsteps from down the hall until it was too late. Tate's bedroom door swung open with force, bouncing against his wall. Tate stepped in front of Violet as a burst of cold air blew in his face. "What the hell?" His eyes widened as he looked through the empty threshold. "What was tha-?" He turned to find no one. "Violet?" He whispered. Looking around his room, nothing was touched so she wasn't hiding anywhere. "Violet." He said louder. "There's no one here. Where'd you go?" He asked. He knew she didn't go out the door and there was no other way out of the room. Another cold chill went up his spine. "Seriously, Violet, this isn't funny." He looked in his closed, behind his door, under his bed; nothing. "Violet, come on."

"Hello, Tate." A deep voice sounded from behind him. Tate spun around just as his door closed once again and back met it, the man's hands were gripping his shirt, holding him in place. "I'm going to say this once. Just once. You touch her," he paused, "and I'll kill you."

"What? Who are you?!" The man pulled Tate away from the door and tossed him to the other side of his room. He shook, legitimately scared of this guy. "What do you want?" Tate turned back to face him, but he was gone. He sat wide eyed, scooting backwards into a corner of his room and hugging his legs. What the fuck is going on? Who was that? What is he talking about? Where's Violet? Did he get her or something? What is going on with this house?! Questions. Non-stop questions swam through his head. Tears now flowed freely down his cheeks. "Where did you go?" He whispered to the air. Again, no response. At that moment, Tate's door handle started jiggling. Someone was trying to get in. Panic rose in his chest and he pushed himself as far into the corner as he could, his sobs more prominent now. As the door swung open, Tate covered his face and screamed as a pair of hands touched his shoulders.


Hey, everyone!

I really hope you like this chapter. I know its been a while. A long while since I last updated and I apologize. Thankfully, I can post now! So expect more chapters because there's plenty more to come. :)

-Kel