Conversations With Dead People

Halloween, 2000

The breeze was coming in off the ocean, filled with the scent of sea life and salt. I had almost forgotten what it smelled like. How the sound of crashing waves sank deep into the body and whisked it up and away into the clouds. There was something soothing it the constant swell of sound, in the rolling salt air. The sand was between my toes, course and warm and damp and it was the most amazing thing I'd felt in almost a year. Since the night I'd died.

There was a family living in the house now, a husband and wife whose marriage was slowly edging into the homicidal. We all saw it. We all had chipped away at it at one point or another, awaiting the day they finally snapped and killed one another or ran. Anything for a change. No one like the new lady of the house. She was a crazy bitch with OCD so bad it had her scrubbing her hands raw nearly every night, convince that removing the filth would remove the hatred that was left of her marriage. Her husband was a cheating bastard. Hell he'd even come on to me the one time I'd shown myself to him. I didn't like him either.

Tate came running from the edge of the water, kicking sand up into the air and grinning like he'd just won a prize. He loved the ocean even more than I did and had taken me here to lift my spirits on the one night we could leave the house. I had just been thrilled to leave with him and eagerly tagged along.

My affection for him had grown at an alarming rate. I knew he had no real feelings for me of course, that was obvious. Tate didn't seem to have feelings for anyone except he siblings, and even that was thin at best. There were times that he showed me affection though. Sometimes out of curiosity or boredom. He would touch me or let me kiss him and I would melt no matter the short amount of time his attention lasted.

Tonight was one of contact. In the spirit of freedom, because we were all in such good spirits now that we were able to wonder, he had held my hand on the walk here. He'd even wrapped his arm around me and held me as if we were lovers as we watched the ocean roar together and enjoyed the warmth of the sun earlier in the park. He'd gotten me ice crème, and kissed away the stray line of vanilla that I'd "accidently" let dribble down my chin. I had never been as content as I was tonight.

Now he seemed to be feeling playful. Tate dove into the sand beside me and I giggled and shielding my face from the grains watching him roll onto his back and stretch out, touching all of it that he could.

"What if we stayed here? Could we, if we just didn't go back?" I asked after a long stretch of silence. He looked up at me from his pile and frowned slightly, shaking his head.

"We can't. The house won't let us."

I nodded, looking back out at the water. The pain I felt then must have shown on my face, because he sat up, leaning close and turning my chin to face him.

"Don't worry. We can come back next year and you have all of us until then."

"I don't have you." I murmured, turning back to the ocean and gazing out blankly. Tate was silent a long moment, watching me with an expression I couldn't translate. When it seemed that were would remain in that silence, however, he suddenly shot forward, rolling on top of me and pinning me in the sand with a wicked smile.

"Come swim with me."

I couldn't help my own grin, but quickly got it back in check, not wanting to seem too eager though I knew he could see right through me. "But I didn't bring a swimsuit."

His black-brown eyes moved down my dark blouse a moment and he fingered the first button. "Neither did I."

I didn't really know how to respond, or whether he was doing this because he wanted to rather than because he knew it's what I wanted. I wanted desperately to believe the former, but I had no real delusions about it.

Tate chased away such thoughts when he kissed me. As always, it scattered my thoughts and made my cold skin feel as if it were warm again. As if I were alive. My hands moved out to touch him. Anywhere I could. One rested against his chest, knotting in the soft cotton of his shirt, the other sank into the soft blond hair at the back of his neck. I loved the contrast of the warm gold and his black eyes. I shivered in excitement when I felt his tongue brush mine and responded in kind, kissing him deeper and making a soft sound of pleasure into his mouth.

His long fingers had moved to the buttons of my blouse, popping them open one by one. When he'd finished, he sat me up, eyes moving down to my exposed flesh and slipped the thing from my shoulders, tossing it aside. I shivered at the feeling of his fingers against my bare skin and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, moving to his throat and nibbling at the skin there as I worked his shirt up and finally over his head.

I sat up on my knees then and he titled his head to watch me unfasten my black jean skirt, tugging it teasingly down my hips. After a moment or two of this his grin slipped away and became something intense and a little unnerving, but when he pinned me back against the sand and tossed away the skirt I knew it was nothing to fear.

He was kissing me again, nipping at my lip and forcing my head to the side by my hair to bite at my throat the way he knew drove me crazy, slipping his hand beneath the black lace of my bra. My hands were on him again. I dragged my nails down his back, eliciting a soft growl of pleasure from the back of his throat before I slid them around to hook the waist of his jeans. I tugged at the denim a moment before the button came free and was moving to the zipper when he suddenly grabbed my wrists and pinned them together above my head. He held them in place with one and, using the other to trace the line of my breast and down my abdomen, slipping it between my legs long enough to make me shudder and arch up against him. Tate chuckled at my reaction and pulled his hand away, pushing himself up onto his feet and leaving me panting in the sand, irritated by his absence.

"I said swim, Cyn, not fool around. Don't get ahead of yourself."

I pushed myself up onto my elbows and scowled at him. "You're teasing me."

He grinned again, the wicked grin that made my heart flutter in my chest, or at least the imitation of it. Reaching down, he took my hand and pulled me onto my feet, pulling me up against him and resting his hand at the small of my back.

"Of course I am." He replied matter-o-factly, then nodded toward the ocean, still crashing out beyond us, unzipping his jeans and kicking them off. "Let's go." He smiled and raced off toward the water, pulling me along after him.

We swam for hours, rapturous at the feeling of cold water against our skin. Occasionally he would swim in close and tease me with a kiss or a fleeting touch, always moving just out of reach once he'd gotten me excited again. I think he was exploring his control over me, enjoying the way he could toy with my body and the look of irritation and need I would give him after.

He did this until I couldn't take it anymore and got out of the water, panting and staring out into the black waters after him. I heard his laugh at my expense and turned my back on him. I had just made it back to the blanket we'd set out and began to gather up my sandy clothes, when Tate appeared behind me with a wild grin. His hands slipped around my waist and he pulled me flush against him, his teeth finding the back of my neck through my hair. I couldn't help my giggle, but then I told myself he was just toying with me and I pulled away, turning to face him and searching his expression for something, anything that said he truly wanted to be with me, that I wasn't just temporary amusement.

He moved toward me again, backing me up until I trip on something in the sand and toppled down onto the blanket. His black eyes followed this, a tiny quirked smile turning up the corner of his mouth. He followed me down then, dropping to his knees and planting a hand on either side of my waist. I didn't know what to say, or how to react to this, so I simply allowed him free reign over my body and watched in silent curiosity and hope. I was afraid that touching him would make me seem to eager and he was slip away again with that damn wicked smile, knowing that he still had me wrapped around his finger.

I sucked in a soft gasp of surprise and excitement when his fingers looped in my black panties and dragged them down my legs, tossing them away from us into the sand. He took hold of the backs of my knees, taking a moment to tilt his head and inspect me before with a sudden tug, planted my leg on either side of his waist. I couldn't help my tiny smile then, and the soft sound I made of pleasure, though I did my best to remain quiet.

Tate glanced back at the ocean a moment, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of waves, of my soft fast breathing and smiled down at me. He worked my bra away quickly enough and tossed it aside with everything else, his fingers slipping in my hair and tightening into a fist. He forced my head back, starring down at me in his cold detached way and leaned down to kiss my throat, then my shoulder. He moved down to my breast, tracing my nipple with his tongue and looking up at me as he did so, gauging my reaction. I whimpered, not in pain, or discomfort, but need, a pressing, deep-seeded need to have him all to myself.

"Do you want me?" he asked once he'd moved to look down at me again, pressing himself against me. We both knew the answer, but he wanted me to say it and I obeyed without hesitation.

"Always."

Tate chuckled, gathering my wrists together and pinning them up above my head in the sand. He seemed to like this, tormenting me by taking away my ability to freely touch him, to urge him on. Now everything moved at his pace, and if he stopped, I could do nothing about it. Thankfully he was kind enough to not tease me long and with a strange smile I couldn't quite decipher, he pushed into me.

I let out a soft cry of pleasure and pain, closing my fists together where he held them. His hand slipped down to close around my throat, though this time I had no complaints. He bent forward, never stopping his thrusts and kissed my temple.

"Hush." He murmured, his voice the perfect blend of detached chill and amusement. I shuddered at the sound of it, how he could be callous and sensual all at once and bit down on my lip, nodding my understanding and submittal. I heard his soft chuckle and felt it stir my hair.

"Good girl."

Present Day, 1 Day before Halloween

"What are you doing in here?"

I glanced up into the mirror to find Tate standing in Violet's doorway, eyes on me and narrowed angrily. I didn't bother acting surprised or scandaled at the fact that I was half naked. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen it all before. Instead I grabbed the dress I'd found in Violet's closet and pulled it down over my head.

"I'm getting my costume ready for my night out."

By the time I'd gotten it to my shoulders Tate was right behind me. He grabbed my arms as I'd pulled the dress into place and spun me around, shaking me once.

"What are you doing in Violet's room. You should never be in her room."

"Like you aren't in here every night?" I shot back, starring up at him, he was maybe a few inches taller than me, though I'd never really been cowed by him. Not many time at least. "Like you don't sit at her bed and touch her while she's sleeping." I smiled to myself, "what would she think of that I wonder?"

"Don't threaten me." He snapped, shoving me to the side. I landed across the bed and pushed myself up on my elbows.

"Then don't be an asshole. This was my house before it was hers."

"Well now you're dead." He replied shortly, "And she isn't. You're going to stay out of here."

At this I narrowed my eyes, fists clenched in the sheets beside me. "She could be." I grit back at him, feeling the all too familiar rage building up inside of me. Tate seemed to be just as angered by my statement, and rushed forward, grabbing me by the throat and dragging me closer so that he could get into my face.

"Don't you dare threaten Violet! You can't die again Cynthia, but I can hurt you. I will hurt you."

I shook my head, trying to tug his fingers off of my throat with no luck. I hadn't meant to piss him off, he just made me so angry all the time. He made me into one of the jealous bitches I had always hated back in school, irrational and catty, willing to say anything to hurt him.

"Wait." I said, closing my eyes and grabbing his shirt. I pulled him down over me and wrapped my arms around the back of hi neck to keep him there, kissing his cheek. "You know I would really do it. You know I couldn't hurt you. Please, I'm sorry, I'm just so lonely. You make me lonely."

His expression didn't change, angry and cold, but he didn't pull away from me. His hand slid away from my throat to brace himself up on and elbow starring down at me.

"We can leave tomorrow." I smiled, searching his face and reaching up to touch his cheek. "Are you going to take me somewhere special?"

He caught my hand and pulled it away from his face, pushing up off the bed and leaving me there. "I have a date with Violet. I'm taking her out."

"Oh?" I said, unable to mask the hurt and rage in my voice, though he didn't seem to care. "Where to?"

"The beach." He shrugged. "You can spend one Halloween alone can't you?"

With that he was gone, and I was left starring up at the ceiling, halfway between tears and shrieks of animalist fury.

"Wow. That's gotta sting." I heard Brett before I noticed he'd come in, and watched him from the corner of my eyes as he sat down on the bed beside me. His head was still a mashing of red and black gore, though he'd managed to make himself a little more whole. I could see his face nowadays, and when he spoke he no longer vomited up bits of bone and congealed blood.

"Looks like he found himself a better toy." He smiled his charming best, though it only made me want to rip his eyes out, "You think he's gunna fuck her there? He fucked you didn't he?" he laughed to himself, "Over at least."

I snatched up the pair of scissors on Violet's nightstand and with a cry stabbed them down on him, but Brett was already gone. All that remained were the echoes of his laughter.