Disclaimer – I don't own American Horror Story

. . .

"What's wrong?" Tate asked when they were safe inside the room Violet and Lily were sharing.

Lily shut the door behind them, and then locked it for good measure. "Tate, do you remember this room?"

Tate gave her one of those what the hell are you talking about looks and nodded. "Yes. This is Violet's room."

"No, I mean . . . do you remember this room from before it was Violet's?" Lily asked. "Do you remember what it looked like? Who it belonged to?"

Tate got that confused look on his face again. The face that made Violet worried. "What do you . . .?"

"What about high school, Tate," Lily continued. "Do you remember your last day at Westfield?"

"I got kicked out . . ." he mumbled. He shifted his weight back and forth on his legs. Fidgety meant nervous . . . caught in the act nervous.

Why's he nervous? Violet asked herself. He can't already know. He just can't. I've been too careful.

"Tate, have you ever heard of the Westfield High Massacre?" Lily asked carefully.

Tate looked back and forth between the two girls. He cleared his throat, but when he spoke his voice still cracked a little. "What do you mean?"

Violet could tell by his face that he was scared. Lily was moving too fast with the questions. An idea struck her. "Tate, is Kurt Cobain alive or dead?"

"Dead," Tate replied automatically. "He committed suicide."

"April 5th, 1994." In response to Violet's glare, Lily added, "What? I'm good with death dates . . ."

"Okay let's try a different approach . . ." Violet suggested.

"Oh fuck it," Lily said, sounding frustrated. "Tate, watch."

She grabbed his and Violet's hands, and the bedroom disappeared, replaced by the school library at Westfield.

"What's going on?" Violet asked, panicking.

"We're in the memory of these students deaths," Lily explained.

"Well . . . what's going on with Tate?" Violet asked. Tate's hand was still interlocked with Lily's, but he appeared to be asleep. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slowed.

"He's in his own body from the memory," Lily told her. "He's seeing things from his own eyes. If we had been there, it would have been the same way. But since we weren't, no one here can see us. Tate's body's just here to keep him anchored to it. If I were to let go of his hand, we'd all be taken back to the house. We're in Tate's brain . . ."

"How?"

"I can take any death from anyone's memory and show it to them again," Lily said. "It's kind of part of the weird thing. Any death that someone near me has seen, I see too."

Violet swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She was about to watch her boyfriend horribly murder five innocent teenagers. Lily read her face. "Vi, if you don't want to see . . . just let go."

Violet thought for a moment. How would she feel about Tate if she watched him do something so horrible? She had already decided that she didn't care about it now. Who he was and who he is are two different people. But, if she had to actually watch it happen right in front of her . . . Would she still be able to look at him the same way?

"I'll be okay," she decided. Curiosity would eat away at her mind if she didn't see. She loved Tate, that's all that mattered.

She counted in her head. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine—

Gun shots. Screams. Footsteps.

The boy Violet recognized as Kevin Gedman from the articles about the massacre ran into the library. His hands were covered in blood. He began to barricade the door, explaining to the other members of the Dead Breakfast Club and the librarian what was going on. The details were vague, but Violet knew the just of it. Tate was out there killing innocent people. Ten were probably already dead, five more to go. These five.

"Who's doing this?"

"I—I don't know!" Kevin seemed sincere. So it was true, Tate was just shooting and killing random people for no reason at all.

"We have to get out of here!"

More gunshots. The teenagers and the librarian ran for cover. Lily noticed something they didn't, which might have saved their lives.

"The back door, dumbasses," her cousin murmured. Violet looked. Sure enough, the library had a back entrance.

Tate was trying to open the library doors from the outside, but thanks to Kevin they wouldn't budge. That probably made Tate angry. Not being able to get the doors open. Violet knew stupid things like that really got under Tate's skin. So—as predicted—instead of Tate just turning around and killing other defenseless victims, he walked around to the back of the library. Towards the other door.

"Why is he doing this?" Violet asked.

"He can't help it," Lily replied. "It's not him . . . it's the madness."

The librarian, realizing what was happening, jumped up from his safe-haven behind the desk and ran up against the door. Pew, pew, pew! Three shots later he was down, and the door was swinging open.

Tate stepped inside. Violet realized that this was the first time she had ever seen her boyfriend as a living human and it kind of creeped her out.

Tate stepped right over the body. The librarian was still breathing, and he knew it. But his task wasn't to kill adults; it was to kill the students. The adults were insignificant.

There were students in here. He had heard their voices from outside the library. They were hiding now, afraid for their lives. As they should be.

He walked around a little, trying to catch sight of them. First, he checked in the rows of book shelves. He whistled to himself as he searched, wanting to show his victims that he was totally calm. That he didn't feel a thing. When he came to the third or fourth row, he heard a noise. It sounded almost like breathing, but heavy and quick. The way you breathe when you're afraid. He knocked down a few books from the opposite end. A scream pierced his ears.

He ran around and faced the girl before she could run away. He looked her right in the eyes and whispered so softly that no one else would hear, "Do you believe in God?"

The girl nodded, tears pouring down her cheeks. He pulled the trigger, and she dropped dead. Her brains were spilling out of her head, but Tate didn't have time to admire his handy work. There were other victims to be found.

He drew a shaky breath. He just killed someone. This isn't what he wanted . . . but he had to.

He kept walking, over to where there were a few couches and chairs. A person could easily hide behind them. He was right; lying on his back behind a chair was a nameless boy he had seen around the school only a few times before.

"No, no please no!" the boy begged. Tate's fingers didn't hesitate. Kevin Gedman was dead in seconds.

"Get the phone!" a male's voice hissed. Phone?

Tate walked around the other side of the librarian's desk. Crouching there, holding the corded phone in one hand, mouth gapping, was another target. Pew!

The boy twitched a few times before he was still, blood pouring out of his mouth. Tate's was reminded of his mother. Whenever he was open-mouthed, she would tell him you'll catch flies.

Her vial voice rang through his head. That's why he was here. Her. Well, she was one of the reasons anyway. She had moved them into that awful house just so she could continue being a cocksucker. The house remembered Tate, it spoke to him. He tried not to listen, but sometimes it was hard . . . so hard.

One brave soul decided to take a noble stand. After telling whoever he was hiding with that it was going to be okay, he came out from his hiding spot under a table. Tate turned around anyway, ready to walk away. He didn't want to kill anyone else. Heck, he hadn't wanted to kill anyone at all.

"Hey!" the jock called. Tate turned this time. "That's enough, get out of here."

You get out, Tate thought. He pulled the trigger.

Then he heard it. One final girl, under the table. She was sobbing. Had she loved the boy he just killed?

Do it, the monster inside him said. Kill her.

No, Tate pled. Please no.

Do it now! It demanded. It took over him. Tate tried to fight it as best he could, but it was impossible. The monster was stronger. It took control of his arms, and flipped over the table. The girl was begging for her life. Tate wanted to tell her he was sorry. That he hadn't meant for any of them to die. He didn't want for it to happen. He wanted to be good. But the monster wouldn't let him. So instead of speaking, Tate did the one thing he could do, he put as much of a sorry look on his face as he could. He hopped the girl would forgive him, but he doubted it.

"He looks scared," Violet remarked to her cousin.

Lily nodded grimly. Her voice was sad when she spoke. "You'll understand. Come on; let's skip ahead a little bit."

The library disappeared, and they were once again standing in Violet's bedroom. Only . . . something was wrong. It wasn't her bedroom, the walls were a different color, and these weren't her things. The room was the same, but the inside . . . wasn't.

Violet looked over and saw Tate, still gripping Lily's hand, still asleep. Then she saw another Tate—living Tate—sitting on the bed.

Her room had once been Tate's? Lily hadn't mentioned that . . .

Living Tate appeared to be . . . upset.

Why did you make me kill them? He asked the monster. It didn't answer. He slowly shook his head. What had he done? He deserved to die . . . His mother deserved to go through what the other fifteen mothers were going through right now.

"Tate!" he heard the demon woman's voice scream from the hall. She sounded scared. She was screaming about how he's "just a child" and will "go peacefully."

So the authorities had found him at last . . .

"Just let me talk to him!" Constance screamed.

The S.W.A.T. team came in then. Tate made up his mind, this time without the monster doing it for him. Slowly, he rose to his feet. His head was clear for the first time in a while, and he knew that the monster was gone. It wouldn't bother him anymore now. It didn't need him anymore.

Red lights targeted on his chest, Tate raised his hands in surrender. Then, very carefully, he morphed his right hand into the shape of a gun, and demonstrated pulling the trigger. Maybe they'd understand the message, but just to make sure . . . He reached for his gun.

It was quick. Seventeen bullets punctured his chest, and he fell to the ground.

"TATE!" Violet screamed. "Lily what the hell is going on?"

"That's not him Violet!" Lily tried to tell her cousin, but Violet was in melt-down mode. As anyone would be watching their boyfriend be shot down by the S.W.A.T. team.

"Why did you do it?" the head guy asked.

"Yeah because he can answer you now you bastard!" Violet exclaimed. Tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks. She knew it was stupid, and that Tate totally deserved it, but she loved him, and it was still hard.

Tate tried to choke out the answer. That he hadn't wanted to and that he was sorry. But his breaths ran out before he got the chance.

. . .

Now they were back in Violet's bedroom. Back in 2011. Back where Tate was a ghost.

As soon as Violet realized the memories were over, she ran right into his arms. He remained still as a stone as she hugged him. "That was so scary . . . are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Lily whispered. "I didn't know what else to do."

Tate was silent. So was Violet.

"Please," Lily begged. "One of you say something."

Violet released Tate and turned to look at her cousin, making sure Tate's hand was still in hers—just in case. "Lily . . . I still don't understand."

"What's not to understand?" Tate asked, speaking for the first time. "I'm . . . dead. And I have been for years. I'm a . . . I'm a ghost."

He didn't sound sad. Or angry. Or upset. He just sounded . . . hallow.

"Why did you do it?" Violet asked him. She probably shouldn't have, it was pretty insensitive of her. He was clearly contrite either way. But she needed to know . . .

"It's this Goddamned house . . ." Tate replied. "It's cursed. I remember now, I had figured it out . . ."

"Tate . . . what happened to you when you were alive? In this house?" Lily asked. She was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

Tate sat down on his girlfriend's bed, and Violet sat next to him. Lily sat on her own bed facing the two.

"When I was born, we didn't live here. We lived close by though. My mother had always admired this house, so as a gift to her, my dad bought it and fixed it all up. We moved in, and everything was going great.

"But then the house started to talk to me . . . it told me to do bad things, and for some reason, I did. It was like I couldn't help myself. I befriended one of the monsters; he was nice enough most of the time. My mother never found out.

"Eventually, we hired a maid; Moira. She was young and beautiful . . . my dad saw that. He cheated on my mother. I think it was the house that made him do it. He could hear it talking too, I could tell. But my mom . . . she was mad. She killed them both, Moira and my father—"

"Moira's dead too?" Violet asked.

"Shh," Lily commanded. "Let him finish."

"Sorry . . ." Violet apologized.

Tate shook his head, and then continued with his story. "After that we had to move out. The house next door had gone up for sale, so we moved in there. My mother remarried almost instantly. I didn't remember my real dad very well, because my mother had killed him when I was really young. I didn't even know my step father wasn't my real dad until I was a teenager . . . Anyway, after we moved out, a new couple moved in. They had two little daughter and they seemed really happy. But then my slut mother had to go and get the guy totally infatuated with her. He told his wife to leave with the kids, because he wanted my mother to move in with my siblings and I. She committed murder suicide, killing her children as well by setting the house on fire. My step father found out what was going on and left; I was ten. Before I had turned eleven, we were back in this house . . . It started talking to me again. I tried to ignore it but I couldn't. It made me do things just like it had before . . . but this time it was worse. It made me . . . kill people."

"You felt bad afterwards," Lily said. "That's why you lifted your gun, isn't it? You wanted them to shoot you."

Tate nodded. "I think the reason I didn't remember was because . . . when the monster took over me, it was like I couldn't even think for myself. I blacked things out of my memory a lot . . ."

"That settles it then," Lily said, standing up. "Don't you guys get it?"

Her voice was harsh and demanding.

". . . No," Violet admitted. "What should we be getting?"

"The house is cursed!" Lily exclaimed. "If you die here, you're stuck here. It's Charles and Nora . . . they owned the house first, right? And then that whole thing with their kid . . . I'd read the stories online before but I didn't actually believe them. Now I get it . . . Infantata—what was left of their baby—is the reason for all of this. Charles went crazy in this house, so now all men who live here are going to go crazy as well. Nora lost her baby, it became a demon. Woman can't have normal children born in this house. That's the curse. And the spirits that live here can't move on, probably because Thaddeus couldn't move on. He died but his father brought him back . . ."

"That was that thing!" Violet exclaimed to Tate. "That thing you set on Leah!"

Tate nodded grimly. "Yeah . . . Infantata and I go way back."

"He's the monster you were talking about?" Lily asked. "You can communicate with him?"

Tate shrugged and stood up as well. "I dunno . . . he comes when I call him, but only if I'm in the basement."

"This . . . this was his room," Lily said. "That might be another part of the curse . . ."

"Wait, wait, wait," Violet said, pausing them. She joined her companions on her feet. "So you're trying to tell me, that there's curse on this house that makes men go crazy and woman have birth-defected babies, and there's something wrong with this room that I sleep in every night. And that the house is crawling with ghosts that can't pass on because they died on the property?"

Lily nodded.

"Don't forget the demon baby in the basement," Tate added.

Violet threw her hands in the air. "This is nuts . . ."

"There must be a way to lift the curse, though," Lily said. "Then all the spirits could move on."

Violet's eyes shot to Tate.

"If . . . if they wanted to that is," Lily added.

Tate swallowed. "I think my mother knows how to lift the curse. I don't know how she figured it out . . . but I'm almost positive she knows. Addie probably does too."

"Addie . . . why does that sound familiar?" Lily asked herself. She thought for a moment, and then snapped her fingers. "Addie's the name of that girl from the news . . . who got hit while trick or treating. It was the last news cast I watched back in Boston. Her mother like, wouldn't talk to the cameras. It happened right here in LA."

Violet sucked in a breath. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Two secrets Tate wasn't supposed to know, and he had found them both out in the last hour.

Tate closed his eyes for a few moments, and when he opened the he looked at Violet. "What?"

She shook her head, tears starting to fall again. "I'm so sorry . . . Constance said I couldn't tell you!"

"Did I miss something?" Lily asked. Her comment when unnoticed.

"Addie's . . . dead?" Tate asked.

Violet nodded. "She wouldn't let me tell you, Tate I'm sorry! She said you wouldn't react well and made me promise!"

"Yep . . . I missed something," Lily decided.

Tate wanted to throw something. He wanted to kill someone (not literally this time). He wanted someone to pay for killing his defenseless sister. Anger boiling inside of him. She said you wouldn't react well.

Tate stopped. Constance was right . . . this wasn't something he would normally react rationally to. But he couldn't let his bitch of a mother be right, so he swallowed his anger and tried to breath.

"Are you okay?" Violet asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Tate nodded, but he didn't want to risk saying anything yet. It might come out as a yell.

"Someone please catch me up!" Lily begged.

"Later, Lil," Violet replied. She sounded like she meant it, and Lily guessed who ever this Addie person was, she had been important to Tate.

"She lied right to my face," Tate managed to get out. He was proud that his voice had barely wavered. He could mourn his sister later; right now he needed to be calm. For Violet, for himself. To prove his mother wrong . . . "I asked her how Addie was doing and she lied."

"She thought it'd upset you too much, Tate," Violet told him. "As crazy as it sounds, I think the wacky bitch was trying to protect you."

"I don't need her protection anymore!" Tate snapped. "Look what good it's done me!"

He stormed out of the room without another word.

"Maybe we shouldn't have told him he was a ghost," Lily said, sounding remorseful. "Sorry, Vi."

Violet brushed her off. "It's better that he knows. Maybe not right now, but it'll help him in the long run.

. . .

You like? I really think I did a bad job at explaining this chapter, so if you're confused lemme know and I'll explain any questions at the beginning of the next chapter, just to clarify. Thanks for all the reviews, guys. Please keep it up=)