I want to hold you close

Skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, close your eyes girl

So lovely it feels so right.

I want to hold you close

Soft skin, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart.

-Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge.

I fucking love this song. I thought it highly appropriate for this chapter, as you'll see...well, perhaps without the heartbeat... Let me know what you think.

It was almost 3 in the morning now. The house was filled with the tiny noises of the others, laughter from the twins, Nora's incessant weeping, and the doctor in the deepest parts of the basement sawing at something for his latest project. Sometimes I would bring him animals, birds and cats that had died within reach of the yard, or that I had killed especially for him. I liked to watch him work, the things he created were deliciously monstrous and I found myself finding the most abstract creatures I could, just to see what he might do with them. He'd made me one once, when I'd complimented his work; a combination of a small dog I'd bludgeoned on a bad day and a bat that I had managed to catch with Tate's help. I kept it in the attic now, as a trophy and a toy for Beau when he grew restless and tired of his ball. He liked to nibble on the thin veiny wings. 3 am was an hour of restlessness for us souls trapped in the house, not that we weren't generally active. The more religious of us claimed it to be the devil's hour, but I didn't believe in such bullshit, never had.

I'd spent the day thinking about what I had to do. Brett had been right, scaring Violet was my only option since the other had been taken away when Miss Melodrama offed herself. This was another problem that I had with Violet. Not her death, I'd already known she was weak, but the way it had happened. Sure finding out that the guy you'd been lusting after all this time was dead could be a bit of a trip, but when he'd written his love confession on her chalkboard and she'd been so horrified that she swallowed a bottle of pills…yeah. That had made me a little angry.

When I entered the back room of the basement, the doctor was busy with his latest creation. He'd forgone the usual stitching tonight and instead used a soldering iron I had brought him a week ago from the Harmon's tool shed.

"No stitches?" I smiled, walking toward the creature and running my fingers down the shining surgical steel of his table. Charles looked up and smiled a friendly greeting at me before going back to his work, explaining as he went.

"I've decided to try something new today. This device is quite extraordinary."

I grinned, taking a seat at the stool across the table from him and watching as he drew the tip of the searing metal across a bit of skin. It took me a moment to realize he was giving the creature a third eye. He'd removed a section of skull from the center of the dog's head and was currently melting the flesh around the edges to connect a socket and patch of flesh to the rest of the face.

"This is only an experiment, mind you, I have not tried it before. I theorize that it will hold if the flesh can be melted together, and from there I will insert one of the glass eyes in that jar." He motioned to it and I nodded, looking in at his collection of glass eyeballs in all their different colors and sizes. They seemed to have been mixed with a few actual eyes, but those were easy to tell apart from the others as most had long ago rotted or been eaten away by insects, leaving only traces of the thin flesh and goo around the glass.

After a moment of my watching him work, Charles glanced back up at me with a small grin. "I assume there is reason for this visit, not that I am ungrateful for the company. Is there something you needed from me, my dear?" His smile widened, "Do you have another project in mind that you wish to begin?"

I arched a playful eyebrow and nodded, "I have a few in mind," then I was serious again, fingering the tray of his tools, "Could I borrow one of these? I need something sharp, but frightening. I love a good scalpel," I picked up the newest of them, sliding my thumb across the edge and watching the skin split beneath it with no pressure at all. I didn't even feel it, the blade was so sharp. "However, I'm thinking scary. Something that catches the eye."

Charles watched this silently, watching me set down the surgical tool and giving me a knowing look. "Oh my, have you already grown tired of our new houseguests? Surely they can't be all that bad?"

I laughed, "I guess you haven't been keeping up."

He chuckled softly, looking back down at his dog creature with a fascination he never found in anything else. The good doctor loved his work above all else. "I find my studies down here more important."

I folded my arms on the table and rested my chin on top of them with a grin. "You'd be right. It's just the one of them that's caught my eye. She's making my stay here…difficult."

"Ah. We can't have that." Charles stood, turning to his shelves and moving to an old shop box with a rusted lock. He popped it open, moving the broken lock aside and rummaged through it a moment before pulling out a long blade. I sat up straight and clapped my hands like a giddy child as he brought it over and handed it to me. It was an old bone saw from a century before my time, the serrated blade rusted and jagged. I gripped the worn wooden handle, feeling it out. It was definitely frightening, like something from a horror movie.

"Perfection." I laughed, "As always Doctor."

He nodded his thanks and sat back down. "Just something of a collectable I got years ago." By this he must have meant before moving into the house. "I'm not sure how sturdy the blade is anymore. It might not hold up for anything…strenuous."

"That won't be a problem. She's already dead."

"Ah, well," he grabbed his tools, going back to work, "Have fun my dear."

"I always do." I grinned and left the room feeling the buzz of excitement that only came with enacting atrocities.

xXx

I'd waited until Tate had left. He would only make things difficult. Doctor Harmon was sleeping soundly thanks to a bit of crushed medication in his evening drink. Ben really should have learned to hide his stash better; anyone could get a hold of it. When I was sure Violet was tucked away safe in bed like a good little girl, I slipped into the room. She didn't hear the door open, but it was too dark to see me anyway, and I could be quiet when I needed to. I listened to her shift on the bed, slipping up beside it, and planting a knee on the mattress so I could lean in close. Violet went still, this close, I watched her turn to look for me, but I wouldn't be visible, not if I didn't to, it was a nifty little present from the house. The ability to jump from place to place in the blink of an eye was one of my particular favorites.

"Tate?" she asked softly, sitting up slowly and looking around. Her eyes were wide in the beginnings of fear and I couldn't help my smile. "Tate, quit you're bullshit. This isn't funny."

"He's sleeping." I replied watching her head snap to me and her startled jerk at the sound. She flipped on the lamp beside her bed, drawing away from me with a scowl. I had donned my corpse's appearance for the occasion. My eyes were sunken and wild, my teeth coated in blood. My ruined shirt was hanging around me in rags, the tank beneath it soaked in blood from my stab wound. It dripped from the material and onto her mattress, leaving bright red stains that bloomed across the sheets like wildflowers.

Until this point, we'd never been properly introduced. I'd been content to stay away from the brat as much as I could, so her confusion and fright were justified, though that didn't make it any less entertaining.

"Get out of here." She hissed. It was an attempt at intimidation, but the note of fear in her voice ruined the effect. I couldn't have taken her serious regardless. She closed her eyes tightly, just as Tate had taught her and tried again. "Leave me alone."

I laughed at this, enjoying the way she snapped those big eyes back up at me like a deer before its impact with a car. "That doesn't work on me sweetie." I pulled the long, thin saw from my belt, holding it to my side. Her eyes went right to it, growing bigger, though I hadn't thought that possible. She drew away from me on the bed and her covers were tugged up against her chest, as if they might protect her from me. Then, cowering like a toddler she attempted once more to threaten me.

"Listen you crazy bitch, I don't care who you are, this is my house. Get out of my room before I-"

"Before you what?" I asked, losing my smile and staring intently at her. I've been told I have a very imposing stare. Having never experienced it firsthand, I had to take their word for it, but by the way Violet looked at me, it was the truth.

And I hadn't even touched her yet. This was great.

"Are you gunna call your boyfriend. Do you think he can save you from everything, or is it just that you know you can't protect yourself?"

"Fuck you!" she spat.

Narrowing my eyes, I shot forward on the bed, climbing on top of her and choking the scream from her throat before she could make it. I dug my nails into her flesh, gripping her with everything I had and when she began to struggle in panic, I settled the jagged blade of my saw right below her chin. I was in control then, and she eagerly lifted her chin when I prompted it with the blade, blinking away the moisture gathering in her eyes from fear. I mused idly if she were alive right then that she might pee herself, but such thoughts were a distraction and I leaned in close to focus on her.

"You know, they call me heartless sometimes. It's rude. They never say it about you though. Violet's so sweet. Violet's so kind. Violet's a naive idiot-child, but at least she's got a good heart." I laughed, jerking the blade so that it snagged her skin, bringing with it a thin line of red. She let out a choked sob, now that I was giving her the air she thought she still needed, and watched me like a feral beast poised to strike. She looked as if she were about to be eaten alive. I considered the idea, but decided that would take too much time and effort. I was kind of working through a window of opportunity here and didn't want to push it anymore than I had.

"But you aren't sweet are you?" at this I sneered, "I've heard the way you talk to mommy and daddy, the way you complain about absolutely everything. And your mother, you own mother," I shook my head in disgust, pressing the saw down into the top of her throat until the line began to grow, the blood trialing down her pale neck in thin, crimson rivulets. "You turned your back on her when she needed you most. What kind of a daughter does that?"

Violet's eyes narrowed and she shoved at me in anger. She knew what I meant, knew I was right, that she was horrid and pathetic, and didn't want to hear it. I fell to the side, but managed to give her a good gash on my way down. The little bitch tumbled off the bed in a scramble and hit the floor, crab-walking away from me and grasping her throat as if she thought I'd slit it. I'm sure it didn't feel wonderful, all those jagged, rusted teeth tearing across her neck and jaw, and I had to smile again.

She didn't have time to stand before I'd leapt off the bed at her, landing across her side and fighting to hold her in place. She wasn't docile anymore, panic had made her desperate and she clawed and kicked at me, struggling to keep me from using the knife I had plunged down toward her chest. With both her hands around my wrist to fend off the saw, I was free to grab a fistful of her hair and bounce her skull off of the wood floor.

God I loved these floors.

It made a satisfying thunk, but this only slowed her struggling and I was forced to do it again. Violet groaned, and released one hand to take a swing at me, catching my chin with a weak punch. I was surprised enough that she managed to knock the blade from my hand and send it skidding across the floor. She twisted beneath me, turning over onto her stomach and trying to crawl away, but I launched forward again, throwing myself over her and beginning the fight once more for control.

"Is that really all it takes to make you betray your mother?" there were other presences in the room now, Hayden and Brett and the twins, though they kept themselves hidden. I could feel their excitement, and the house swelled with an electric energy that buzzed beneath my skin, pushing me on, making me positively giddy at her terror. "He flashes those pretty dark eyes and you turn on them? You sent her away, Violet, not your Dad, you. You let him think she was crazy."

"Stop!" she cried out, pushing up off the floor and we both tumbled. Hayden was laughing somewhere in the room, cackling in joy at the entertainment.

"Get her." She urged as Violent pushed herself up and dashed out of the room. I was right behind her, skidding out against the wall, and shoving myself after her with a laugh of my own, high and manic.

"Dad!" she yelled, stumbling down the hall, and tripping over herself. I was right behind her, grabbing her shoulders and throwing her with everything I had into the wall. She collided with a loud bang, her head snapping back and she stumbled, but swung her elbow back around at me right in the sternum. It made me wheeze a moment, but I was after her again, this time with a primal bellow of rage. I wanted to kill her. Even if it wouldn't stay, even if she'd wake up moments later, I had to. Besides, her confusion and terror at waking up not dead would be a pleasure to watch anyway. It was win-win.

"Daddy!" she screamed just as I felt the others falter. Hayden whispered a curse, the twins disappeared and, Brett hissed out a harsh "Run." But it was too late for that.

I felt the arms wrap around me before I knew he was there, jerking me up off my feet and away from Violet. She turned back a moment, eyes full of tears and saw him, nearly collapsing in relief.

"Tate!"

"Get out of here Violet, get away from her." He wasn't bothering to be patient with her, which meant I'd successfully pissed him off, and I watched the little bitch run for the stairs to hide away from the both of us.

"Coward!" I called after her, as Tate tried to keep me restrained. "I'll get you, you little bitch! You can't hide forever!"

Tate growled behind me, but I was already in a rage. With a screech, I planted my boots on the wall and shoved as hard as I could, sending us both tumbling backwards. I landed on top of Tate, twisting to straddle him and closed a hand around my fist. I swung it around, catching him in the jaw and snapping his head to the side, then again, the other direction. When I went to do it a third time, however, he caught my arms, twisting to the side and throwing me down against the hardwood. We rolled and he landed above me, landing a punch that was weakened by our struggling. I growled in frustration, and bucked up, but only managed to send him falling forward on top of me.

We wrestled for a moment before I'd twisted onto my stomach and cracked him in the mouth with my elbow. As Tate curse and fell back I scrambled back onto my feet and dashed toward Violet's room. My saw was in there, and damnit if there was ever a time I needed protection, this was it.

"Cynthia!" I heard him call, his voice thick with black rage.

I'd just made it into the room when he barreled into me from behind and we both crashed onto the floor. I saw the blade and reached out for it, but Tate slapped it away from me, sending it skidding toward the bed. We struggled again, kicking and clawing at one another. I was yelling, cursing and biting at him like an animal, but something had changed. The energy in the room wasn't what it had been anymore. I felt a slithering of something indescribable in my gut, it curled around me and tightened until I could hardly breathe and suddenly I found that I had been laughing, and wasn't even aware of the fact.

Tate seemed likewise changed, but the violence was still in his black eyes, a promise that should he get the chance, he would truly hurt me, but I didn't care anymore. I wasn't fighting to hurt him, I was fighting because I was enjoying it.

I managed to slip from his grasp after a blow to his temple, and grabbed crawled toward the bed, grabbing the sheets and dragging myself up onto the mattress. I might have crawled across it if he hadn't caught my ankle and pulled me back. I twisted to face him, but the backs of my knees were pressed against the mattress and threw off my balance. Tate had gotten to the saw by now, and gripped it in his right hand until his knuckles turned white. He leaned into me then, making me fall back onto my butt on the mattress and I felt the prick of the tip of the rusted saw in my gut. For a moment the world went still and silent. We gazed at each other without even breathing, until let out a soft giggle and looked down at the blade.

"Whoa. Gut shot. Those are the worse." He was very still above me, already having slipped into the silent monster he became before he killed. It was something I had seen many times before. Beyond rage or frustration, he was calm, lucid and focused, and that was terrifying. His black eyes were locked on me, unblinking and the intensity in them sent a shiver racing down my spine. Suddenly I wasn't angry or hurt anymore.

I was turned on.

The way we had landed, Tate was positioned above me, standing between my legs, he'd planted one hand on the mattress beside me to support himself with the saw in the other, pressing hard into my skin. He had yet to break skin, but it either of us moved much, it would happen.

My hand went up to his shoulder to hold myself steady and I gave him a little giggle of excitement that made his eyes narrow. I tried to pull him toward me, but he resisted, remaining poised above me. The fact that he hadn't gone through with yet, however, was all the proof I needed.

"Are you going to kill me?" I smiled slowly, a wicked smile that furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do you remember the game we used to play? Chase? We would play paper rock scissors to see who got to be the prey and the other one chose a weapon."

He wasn't resisting me anymore, instead he listened intently and I managed to pull him an inch or so closer. I slid my leg up his side slowly, wrapping it around him to hold us together. My free hand went to his shirt, my fingers slipping up beneath the thin material and around his back. I feathered my fingertips up his spine and drew my nails back down. Tate hissed in a soft breath, his eyes falling closed a moment and I felt him shudder at my touch. He was angry, yes, but he was also aroused, and that I could work with.

"You were always so much better than me." I continued, "I always got so worked up, I'd chase you down, but you were so patient. You always found me, even if I ran."

"I'm faster than you are." He murmured, tilting his head to regard me with something I couldn't decipher.

"Do you remember the time when you chose the wire?" I asked softly, my lips brushed his shoulder, though the position forced the saw into my stomach. It was only a little, just breaking the skin through my shirt, but it stung like a son of a bitch all the same. I ignored this however and pushed on, kissing a slow trail up the side of his neck. "You said you were tired of knives. You wanted something that would last. You chased me into the basement and pinned me to the floor." I paused in my kissing right below his jaw and catching the skin there between my teeth. The bite wasn't hard enough to break skin, but he felt it and shuddered again. Tate liked it when I bit him, as I loved the feel of his teeth on me.

"You were going to strangle me then, you started to, and then you stopped and gave this smile." I grinned in reminiscence, "You tied my wrists together instead and pinned them above my head." He remembered too. I could see the heat building in his eyes at the thought of it, the way it was building in me.

"You held me still and told me to be quiet, and then you ripped open my shirt." My hand slipped from his shirt to curl around the bulge in his jeans and I bit my lip with a wicked smile. "You took me right there on the floor, you made it hurt and I screamed, but god was it wonderful. We were wonderful."

He made a soft sound of humor into my hair and leaned forward, forcing me to lie back on the bed to avoid getting run through. The hand on his shoulder slid up the back of his neck and I ran my nails up into his hair with a giggle of my own.

"Do you wanna play?" I asked looking up at him and delighting at the tiny smirk that curled the corner of his mouth.

"I've already caught you." He said simply, his tone was a strange mix of hardness and amusement that honestly made me wet.

"What are you gunna do with me?" I grinned.

Tate didn't reply, instead he leaned down to capture my mouth in a harsh kiss, biting my lip. It was demanding and passionate and I couldn't help but to moan softly into his mouth. When he pulled back his eyes were hard again, but there was a playfulness dancing behind them that excited me.

"Take off your shirt." He said pulling the knife back enough that I could comply and I did so quickly, wriggling to get it over my head. When I'd gotten it to my arms he stopped me and twisted the loose end until he could use it to bind my wrists together. I shivered again, in excitement and a tiny delightful slice of fear took me making my eyes wide.

Tate pinned them above me, just as he had in the basement and leaned down to kiss me again, though when I tried to kiss back, he pulled away, keeping his mouth just out of my reach to tease me. I knew this game, I had to work for it. He knew that I hated not getting my way, and delighted in tormenting me. When it was clear he was not going to let me kiss him again, he leaned down to my ear.

"Don't move." He said softly and I nodded watching him pull away and stand beside the bed. Tate set the saw beside me. It was a test, one of many I'm sure he would put me through. If I went for it, I would be punished and not necessarily in a way I liked. I decided to be good for now, and remained perfectly still as he moved off the bed and looked me over.

"Lose the dead thing." He said and I immediately drew in a slow inhale, willing my appearance to that of a normal living person. He nodded and braced himself on the edge of the bed with one hand, the other went to my belt. I had to bite down on my lip to keep myself in check as he unbuckled it and pulled it from my belt loops with two quick jerks. He was moving slowly on purpose, torturing me, because I had the patience of a toddler and he could outwait the sun. His forefinger hooked in the front of my jeans and slowly pushed down the zipper, but then he laughed, and his hand pulled away. I frowned and opened my mouth to complain about this, but Tate's eyes snapped up to mine and I bit it back. I knew that look, it was dangerous.

"Be quiet." He said. Once I'd nodded he turned his attention on my leather belt and folding it in half. He inspected it a moment before snapping it down onto the mattress beside me, chuckling at the hellacious sound it made. My eyebrows were arched up high and I was watching him very closely now. I knew what was coming, it was obvious. He'd given himself agreat idea and I would pay for it.

"Roll over, Cyn." He smiled a devilish thing that made me nervous and giddy all at once, but I didn't move to do as he said, I wanted to know what might happen if I didn't. I was already in trouble, why not.

Tate reached out to grab my arm and flipped me onto my stomach on the bed then pulled my legs off the side so he had a good target. My arms were currently trapped under me, so I had to struggle to work them enough to push myself up, but he'd already swung. The belt cracked across my backside and I spat out a curse.

"You should listen to me." He said, and then came swing number two, just as hard, like fire across my skin. I mean jesus, this boy could play for the major-league.

"Fucker." I snapped out unintentionally when the third came, and Tate laughed getting out two more in quick succession. I couldn't take anymore, and grabbed the sheet in front me to drag myself over the bed. I only made it a few inches when Tate wrapped the belt around my neck, and pulled me back with another laugh at my expense.

"Where are you going?" he asked in my ear, leaning down against me. One hand snaked around my waist and he tugged down the rest of my zipper, "I'm not finished with you yet."

To this I couldn't help my wicked smile and let out an excited giggle when he released the belt to work my jeans down my legs. Again he was torturing me, taking his time and dragging it out for all he could but I had taken a small precaution and willed my underwear far away where it couldn't be used against me. He tossed my jeans onto the floor, though they vanished before they ever hit. They weren't real jeans, those were buried with me out at the back of the property. I'd helped Tate do it.

"Patience is a virtue, you know." He smiled, turning my head by my hair to kiss me. When it was broken I scoffed.

"I'm about as far from virtuous as it gets."

"I'm starting to see that." He said turning me over and pushing me up to the center of the bed. He crawled onto the mattress with me, and shifted us both so that we weren't across it anymore. When he tugged his shirt over the back of his head I got so anxious I helped, yanking it off and throwing it away so it couldn't be reached. Tate chuckled his hands going to the backs of my knees and sliding me down against him. My hands went immediately to his jeans and I quickly unfastened the things, pushing them down around his hips and kissing him with everything I had.

Violet's bed was not quiet, made with brass bars and fixtures. It creaked with our movements. I wonder idly who might be listening, surely it could be heard throughout the silent house. Tate took my hands and lifted them above our heads to wrap them around the bars along the headboard, covering them with his own. With my legs wrapped firmly around his waist, he used the bars as leverage to thrust into me and I sucked in a startled gasp at the sudden sensation of him. Our mouths met again, our tongues fighting for dominance and he kept going picking up speed. Suddenly he wasn't so patient either.

"I love you." I said against his mouth, nipping at his lip as one of his hands moved down my arm, clasping my breast and running his thumb across my nipple.

"I know." He replied bending his head down to replace the hand with his mouth. His tongue circled the sensitive flesh there, and he forced a soft yelp from me when his teeth closed over the bud. I arched up against him dropping my freed hand to the back of his head and tangling my fingers in his golden hair. He was still pounding into me, rattling the headboard against the wall. Oh yes, the other's could hear this, and with this thought came a twisted pleasure as I wondered if Violet could as well, wherever she was hiding.

"Tate." I said, my voice hitching with his thrusts. He knew what I wanted to hear, but he was still busy teasing my nipple. I didn't stop him, couldn't really, but still I wanted him to say it. I needed him to.

His mouth trailed up to my throat and he bit me again, kissing away the pain and moving forward, he kissed my jaw and my chest fluttered when I felt his lips against my ear.

"I love you Cynthia." He murmured, and I tugged back his head to look up into his dark eyes with an elated smile. When I saw it was true, that he hadn't said it placate me, I felt as if my chest had burst. Warmth and joy filled me as I hadn't felt in weeks and I pulled him down to kiss him again. It was passionate and desperate, we didn't stop until we'd both come, and even then we couldn't stop kissing one another.

"I love you." I said again, against his mouth and he smiled, pulling out of me and releasing my other hand, which was numb from his grip. Tate rolled onto his back beside me, pulling me across his chest and kissing my hair.

"Will you hold me like this tonight?" I asked softly, tracing circles on his abdomen with my fingertip.

"Not here." He replied looking around at Violet's room, the tone of his voice saying that I had just reminded him that she was here. The thought of this thrilled me to no end, but I didn't speak it, I didn't want to ruin his mood.

"But somewhere?" I urged.

After a moment, he nodded and kissed me again, pulling us from the bed. I laced my fingers in his and let him lead me from the room, feeling as if the world had finally been set back to normal.

Counting Bodies like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums

By A Perfect Circle

If you haven't heard this song, I strongly suggest listening to it. If you don't like them, or haven't heard of it you should check out a youtube video of Tate being crazy and wonderful to the intro, which is a wonderful chaotic sound that fits his character magnificently. It was perfect and you might appreciate the song even more for having seen it. I know I did.

http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=qYVYGCCryLo&feature=related