I'm not giving up on this story just yet! I'm so sorry it took soooooooo long to get this out! I had photoshoots and then I went camping with my boyfriend for a while and then I was studying for my drivers test. It's been nuts! The reviews on this story have been so fucking amazing! I can't thank you guys enough and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying my little story. The first part of this chapter is a little boring but gets crazy towards the end ;)

Warning: unconsented abuse (even though she likes it afterwards)

Light from the blazing sun slowly crept across the wood floor, crawing it's way closer to my black canopy queen bed.

"Fucking hell" I muttered, knowing full and well that I had closed my blackout curtains last night to prevent the sun from blaring into the blindless windows of my bedroom.

"Fucking ghosts.. Just cause you guys don't sleep" I grumbled, throwing my arm over my azure eyes with a groan of displeasure.

It had taken me three days to set up and unpack everything. Three days and not once did I see Tate.. Or any spirit for that matter, the house was deathly quiet and that bothered me deeply. Part of me longed for the noise.. I was never someone who enjoyed silence, but most of all, I longed to see my little psychopath again, his face was burned into my mind, his very touch seared my skin like magma crashing into the cool ocean. I could still hear his velvety voice in my head as it vibrated through my bones.

"I miss you.." I whispered the words into the air, hoping he was somewhere... Waiting... Watching.

My friends used to tell me that I was obsessed but I knew it was more then that. I was in love with him.. How could you not love someone that you had dedicated so much time to? I still remember staying up all hours of the night, searching and searching every news archive I could find. Hoping to catch a glimpse of something out of the ordinary, something that would confirm that my beautiful psychopath wasn't gone from this world.

And now, being here. Knowing he's here somewhere but not knowing how to reach him. It light a fire in me, a longing so deep it went to my very soul. I wanted to see him.. Touch him.. Kiss him.. And God did I want to fuck him. I wanted to feel his hands around my throat as he pounded me into my bed.. wanted to see his sinful mouth parted in pleasure.

I slipped my hand down under the covers and it slowly trailed down my stomach before gliding across my most sensitive area. I could see him in my head, his muscles flexing under his pale flesh as he stroked his throbbing cock, his black eyes fixated on me before he threw his head of pale, blonde hair back and moaned. A quiet whine slips from my pale lips as I stroked my delicate folds expertly, my back arching off the bed as the pleasure began to build. A tingling sensation spread through my stomach and lower region and with a cry of his name I reached my climax quickly. I gasped for breath, my head rolling back against my pillows. That wasn't the first time I had touched myself while thinking about Tate.. And it probably wouldn't be the last.

"Well that was just gross"

Violet

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? All of you guys have been fucking nonexistent for the past three days and the one time I need a little privacy, one of you pops up" I ranted, still panting from my orgasm. I didn't even bother with being embarrassed about being caught touching myself, I didn't care what she thought about me anyway.

"You said his name you know. He heard you.. He watches you" she said, just like with Tate's words hers were meant to be threatening — to scare me off but they did the exact opposite, they excited me.

I smirked, twirling a piece of coal black hair around my finger. "He watches me, huh? I hope he enjoyed the show"

"Look, psycho. You're not getting the point! He's going to kill you, he's crazy" Violet growled, stomping her foot like an angry child.

I smiled, "Maybe he will, maybe he won't. That's the thing about being crazy, it means you're unpredictable and therefore can't be predicted... Now get out, I need to change"

She groaned in frustration before disappearing into thin air.

With a small giggle I pulled myself from my black satin sheets and bounced over to my dresser. I stripped off my black tank top and black panties before pulling on a clean pair of underwear and a red pair of ripped skinny jeans. I whistled a tune under my breath as I walked over to my closet, a little extra swing in my hips as I thought about a certain someone watching me.

"Tate.. You naughty, naughty boy" I whispered, giggling to myself as I pulled on a black crop top that had studs on the shoulders.

I looked in the mirror and nodded — happy with my look for the day. I twirled my hair around my fingers as I trailed out the door and down the old, creaky staircase.

Ding dong!

"Ughhhh. You'd think moving to a place where nobody knows you would warrant less visitors" I muttered, pulling open the door.

"Hello, dear. My name is Constance —"

"Langdon" I finished for her, slightly awestruck. I knew that fake looking blonde updo anywhere, I had seen her picture on the news reports of Tate's death. My eyebrows furrowed at the little blonde boy standing in front of her with an adorable grin on his little pale face. He looked a little like Tate. I knew Constance was too old to have another child.. So who was this boy?

"Why yes. How may I ask do you know me?" She said, her southern ascent flowing like warm honey.

"Everyone who's anyone knows the mother of the psycho school shooter" I said, repeating the words that had been plastered on every article that had Tate's face on it but my words held no malice, only adoration.

Her plastic smile faltered slightly and I grinned. I leaned down to eye level with the little boy that was tugging on her silk dress.

"Who I don't know, is this cutie" I said, winking at the little guy.

"This is my son, Michael. Adopted of course"

"Of course" I said, nodding.

"Michael just couldn't wait to meet the pretty girl next door, he saw you come in the other night" Constance said, smoothing down his blonde fluffy locks.

"Well, Michael. My name is Scarlett, but you can call me Raven" I said, tickling his sides till he broke out in a large smile.

"We really must be going, but a word of advice, dear. I wouldn't mention Tate's name too much in this house... They say bad memories leave a stain that will linger for an eternity" she said, ushering Michael out the door.

"Don't worry about me, Mr's Langdon. Things that go bump in the night don't really scare me" I said, grinning sadistically.

A worried look passed on her face before disappearing quickly as she exited, shutting the door behind her but not before I caught her last words to me.

"That's what Violet said"

"Yes, well. Mr's Langdon, We all know that Violet was certainly not like me" I whispered to myself, an idea forming in my head as I headed for the staircase to the second floor.

I was going to visit Westfield High. I dreamed about seeing it in the flesh and I had already been in L.A for four days, I really was overdue for a little sightseeing.

I twirled my raven hair around my fingers, humming a song under my breath as I climbed the staircase to my room, my fingers dancing along the railing.

"All the other kids with the pumped up kicks.. You better run, better run. Faster then Tate's gun" I sang, giggling to myself as I opened the door to my bedroom. My stomach flipped when I saw who was standing in the middle of my room. There was a dark look in his coal black eyes as he ran the flame from the lighter in his hand over the small piece of metal in his other hand till the end was a fiery red. Like the top of a volcano, just before it bursts.

"... Tate" I hadn't seen him since the first night, since he pinned me against the wall and toyed with me till I answered him. I shivered.

He looked up, and the look in his eyes frightened me and thrilled me at the same time.

(Warning: non consented violence ahead!)

He was across the room in seconds and suddenly I was pressed against the wall, his body pinning me in place. Memories of the last time we had met like this flooded my mind and heat pooled between my legs.

He cocked his head to the side, his dirty blonde hair falling into his face as his eyes trailed down from my face and hesitated at my chest before coming to a stop on my left forearm. Before I could even look down to see why he was staring I felt a white hot searing pain shoot through my arm, tears pooled at the corners of my eyes but I refused to let them fall and I stayed silent as he pressed the hot piece of metal against my pale skin over and over again.

A frustrated look etched itself onto his handsome face, "Scream" he demanded, pressing the hot metal deeper into my skin.

And I did.

Apologies if that was triggering for anyone, things like that are probably gonna be happening often just because Scar and Tate are gonna have more of a Joker/Harley relationship then a normal one but I will try to always put warnings on each chapter. Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter! She met Constance! And Michael! Violet keeps trying to warn her away but she has no idea who she is messing with ;)