The *** House

Night seemed to approach at an agonizingly slow pace. Tate and I were down in the basement, where Vivien and Ben had directed us to be. They planned to scare the homeowners down there, and they were letting me get in one final, terrifying moment to ensure that they would leave and never return. Ben had thought that maybe it would be therapeutic for me to help ensure someone else's safety.

The sun was starting to sink low over the trees in the back yard, but I knew that we could still have been facing hours before the family headed off to bed. They were too busy unpacking to feel fatigue properly.

Tate and I sat in the corner closest to the door, which we were hoping that the family would run out of and never come back. Tate was talking about the last time that they did this, and all the times before that, when he had simply stayed hidden. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to help, it was more the fact that he didn't feel welcome to do so. Though I thought it was a shame, I still knew that the Harmons were right to make Tate feel uncomfortable around them. A large part of me hoped that they would never stop making him feel that way. I may have been in love with him, but I knew that he still deserved to suffer for his actions. And if anyone could make that happen, it would be Ben Harmon.

Eventually, we heard a cacophony of noise reverberating from upstairs. There were screams, the shrill cries of a baby, and pounding footsteps. I could only imagine how well Ben and Vivien had pulled off their various plans. Tate gave my hand a tight squeeze and then disappeared into a different room. I stayed where I was. I was in plain sight, and I ruffled up my hair and plastered a terrified expression on my face. Soon enough, a shaft of light illuminated the stairway, and shadows appeared on the walls. The footsteps grew louder, as well as the occasional panicked cry. And then they appeared before me.

The man was carrying the baby, and the woman was clutching on to his arm as if it were her only form of life support. They both stopped short when they looked at the disheveled form that I had become in front of them.

"Who are you?" I asked, barely speaking at all.

The woman pulled fiercely on her husband's arm. "Let's go, Jeremy!"

"I don't think she's a ghost," the man said, taking a careful, hesitant step in my direction. "She looks too scared for that."

"Who are you?" I repeated, using the same barely-audible voice.

"I think the real question," the woman puffed out her chest in faux confidence, "is who are you? You're in our house!"

I focused on her face, trying to appear confused by her. Though her stance and her expression appeared to be confrontational, her eyes betrayed how utterly petrified she really was. "I wasn't talking to you," I said, getting to my feet slowly. "I was talking to them."

The couple looked around them, their movements stiff by the fear that my ominous words had enstilled in them. Tate stepped out of the shadows, and the malevolent expression in his black eyes made my heart still for a moment. He really was a terrifying presence to behold. He pushed past the couple as if they weren't even there, and I could see Thadeus scrambling across the cement floor in his wake. The woman shrieked at the sight of the creature, and she began pushing her husband up against the wall, as if they would be safer there.

Tate thrust me up against the wall roughly, and the sinister smile on his lips became a reassuring grin for a fraction of an instant. It was like he was reminding me that we had planned this, and that after all was said and done I would be okay. "I've been waiting for you," he growled. "And I don't like to be kept waiting."

I shoved him back. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You ripped my heart out!" Tate screamed. There was such passion in his voice that I had to pause and gape at him. He took my moment of hesitance to his advantage. "Payback is such a bitch, wouldn't you say?"

With that, he produced a knife from the waistband of his pants. The blade glimmered in the light from the stairway, and then it disappeared as it was plunged into my chest. I screamed, but the fresh puncture in my lung made it all the more painful. I collapsed, and as soon as the knife was removed from my body, I felt completely healed. I waited in a limp heap while Tate turned to the homeowners.

"She left me," he explained, his tone light and casual. "I couldn't just let her get away with that, could I?"

The woman let out a sob, followed by a high-pitched whine. She was crying.

I could see that Thadeus was crawling ever closer to them. Tate made no move to save them. I climbed to my feet and jumped onto Tate's back, wrapping my hands around his neck. Tate spun around wildly, trying to knock me loose. When he succeeded, I was tossed onto the floor at the couples' feet. Both homeowners screamed and stumbled backward, trying to avoid touching me. I let out a strangled yell before I lurched upright once again.

"I never left you!" I screamed. "I can't ever leave you! We'll be here, just like this, every day for eternity. In this house, in this room, forever."

Tate looked as if my statement was a challenge. "Not if I bury you first."

He lunged at me, but tripped over Thadeus, who was still scuttling across the floor. When he hit the ground, I snatched up his knife and pressed the blade into the tender flesh of his throat. Blood spurted out, then flowed like a river. I gasped at the sight. It was suddenly too real for me. I dropped to my knees, and the weapon slipped from my fingers. It clattered against the floor as I pressed my face into the thick sweater covering Tate's torso.

"It's forever," I manged to force the words out. "The things that this house has done to us, it's forever." I looked up at the speechless, horrified witnesses. "Run!" I screamed. "Get out before it gets you, too!"

But when they turned to run, there was someone blocking their one remaining exit. Hayden looked at everyone around her with a glittering, horrifying grin. "Oh, there's no rush, is there? Come on, Ainsley. You have to admit that this guy is good looking. What would it hurt to keep him around for a little while? And that baby? You don't honestly think that I would just let them walk out with it. Here I thought you were smart. I guess I was wrong, huh?"

"Back off, Hayden," I snarled. "Nobody else needs to be trapped in this house."

"Who died and made you boss? Oh, wait, all of us are dead, and you're still not the boss. Stop trying to be the holy saviour when we all know that you're as fucked up and possessed as every other person here."

"At least I don't have daddy issues that force me to be a horrid, home wrecking skank," I shot back.

She looked surprised that I was standing up for myself. "Big words coming from the girl who still requires therapy, even after death."

"I'm still sane enough that people care about me. I'm actually loved. That's a hell of a lot more than anyone can say about you."

"Listen to me, you little bitch-" Hayden took several long, purposeful strides toward me. Rage danced in her eyes, and her hands were outstretched, as if she were going to wring my neck.

Thadeus snarled at her sudden approach, but she paid him no mind. The creature gave up lurking beneath everyone's feet, and he retreated to his usual haven. The homeowners saw their opportunity. While Hayden's hands closed around my throat, the couple bolted through the basement door. Hayden yelled out loud in frustration.

"I was so close!" she screeched as her fingers clamped tightly over my windpipe. "That baby was in my reach!"

Tate sprang into action, wrestling Hayden off of me and pinning her to the ground. "That's enough!" he hollered in her face. "You are dead! Even if you were a good person, you would be in no position to raise a kid. I'm actually glad that you're dead. If you'd been able to procreate, that kid would have been a monster."

Hayden spat in his face, and he released her to wipe the filth from his cheek. She pushed him out of her way and got to her feet. "Fuck you!" she screamed, though I was uncertain as to which of the two of us she was directing it toward. She stormed off, disappearing into the shadows somewhere behind Thadeus.

Tate turned to me and smiled. "Actually, her little outburst probably helped us to scare those people even more."

I seethed. "I hate her so much."

He sat next to me and pulled me against him. Our blood-soaked clothing made me feel cold, despite the warmth of his touch. "She's just a stupid bitch. Don't let her get to you. You were amazing. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought that you had actually killed someone you loved. You sounded so shattered."

I cleared my throat. "I didn't like the way you looked when you were covered in blood. It scared me. I don't know why, because I knew that you were okay, but still. It was unsettling. I don't want to see you hurt. And knowing that it was because of me would just be too much." I neglected to add that the thought of being a murderer frightened me more than anything else in that scenario. It was like that was the one thing that made me a better person than so many others in the house. If I were to commit such a heinous act, I would be just like them.

"You get used to that," he tried to comfort me with a smile. "People are always fighting here. You just don't see it so much upstairs. It's usually down here that things get really bloody."

I sat there for a long moment, wrapped up in his embrace. "Can we go back upstairs?" I asked timidly. "I'm kind of tired."

Tate got up and offered me a helping hand. "Let's go get cleaned up."

When I accepted his assistance and was on my feet, he leaned in and kissed me gently. I leaned against him, letting him support me for a few long moments before we began to walk back upstairs. We reached the landing and found Moira already scrubbing the word RUN off of the walls, where it had been scrawled in someone's blood. In the bathroom, we rinsed off the blood from our hands and faces, and changed into some fresh clothes.

"You really were great tonight," he complimented me again. "You're a natural at this haunting stuff."

I smiled in return as we headed into the study. Tate helped me to shove the foosball table out of the way and move the sofa back to the place where I wanted it. He curled up with me, and his touch helped to calm me enough to induce sleep.

I couldn't remember dreaming since I'd died, but that night I did. I dreamt that I awoke in the middle of the night and slipped down into the basement. I found Hayden sleeping soundly on an old cot, and there was a ghost that I didn't recognize beside her. I had thought that I'd known everyone in the house by then, but this man was a stranger. And yet, there was something oddly familiar about him. I pulled out a knife - it was the same one that Tate and I had used that day to scare off the homeowners - and I took out every frustration that I'd ever had with Hayden. I destroyed her. By the time I was finished, she was nothing but a mess of blood and innards on the bedsheets. The man beside her slumbered on.

At least, I had thought it was a dream. When I awoke in the morning, I was covered in dried blood. Tate looked visibly distressed at the sight of me. I felt a weight settle in my stomach as the truth sank in. I stared at the blackened flakes of Hayden's blood that covered my fingernails and sank into the lines of my knuckles. My breathing hitched, and my eyes swelled with tears.

"Are you okay?" Tate asked gently, reaching out as if to take my hand but stopping before he made contact.

I started to cry as I remembered all the details from the night before. I had said that I wanted to know exactly what my dark side was doing. I hadn't been prepared for the truth. I wanted the mystery back. I had seen the monster that lived within me, and I was afraid.

Tate held me and kissed my forehead a few times. He told me repeatedly that it would be okay, that I didn't hurt anyone that could really be hurt. I continued to sob until my eyes were dry and my chest ached.

"It's okay," Tate said as he wiped away the last of my tears and pressed his lips to the bridge of my nose. "Nothing will change. I'm not going anywhere. And if anybody else has a problem with it, then fuck them. You're fine, Ainsley."

I drew in a shudder of a breath as I realized just why Tate was so prepared to stick by me through all of this. I was just like him, after all.