Narcissistic Cannibal

“You don't seem so sad right now,” Tate pointed out, standing in the kitchen with Sophia, watching her run her thin fingers along the burned wooden surfaces in the Kitchen. The fire that had killed Sophia miraculously didn't do too much foundation damage, mostly it was just aesthetic, like the fire was all bark and no bite. Except for the crazy amount of smoke it caused.

“Because I'm not sad when I'm around you or the Harmons...” Sophia spoke, turning to face Tate, who was leaning on his elbows over the center island. He half smiled, knowing that he was half the reason Sophia was happy right now, Violet mostly being the other half, and it hurt him. He couldn't tell if he was jealous of Sophia, or jealous of Violet.

“I'll always be here if you need me,” he said, standing up straight.

“That's the same thing Ben said about his family,” Sophia pointed out. Tate knew what he had said, Sophia had already told him when he managed to casually ask. He new before that even. Tate just had a gut feeling that when Ben asked him to bring Sophia around, that the Harmons would try to steal her away from him.

“I know. Fuck them though,” Tate spoke, managing to keep a stable mood as he spoke. “I'd be more willing to hang out with you .”

“Violet really likes me. Why can't you hang with the two of us sometime?” Sophia suggested, feeling slightly excited about that possibility. Tate's expression killed it instantly, however.

“Violet and I don't really get along,” Tate pussyfooted around the subject. “I wish we did but she doesn't like me too much.” Tate walked around the island to Sophia, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, noticing that she looked slightly saddened by his response. She leaned her head into his shoulder as he did with a sigh.

“Oh well. As long as you two don't freak out over sharing me then,” she pointed out, hoping that one day she'd maybe get to hang out with the two of them at once.

“No,” Tate said with a smile, portraying the exact opposite that he felt. Sophia was the closest thing he thought of as having a real friend. The next best option was a toss up between his retarded older brother, who didn't know any better, and Ben Harmon, who didn't actually like him. “Do whatever you want,” He replied vainly, looking down at the shorter girl wrapped up in his arm.

“I think I'm going stir crazy though,” Sophia sighed, leaning more of her weight into Tate's side than she was actually supporting with her own feet. The added weight didn't affect Tate in the least, he was already expecting it. He'd be ready to keep her standing if she collapsed completely on him in a state of boredom.

“Everybody's stir crazy right now,” Tate explained, moving to lean against the counter of the island, so that Sophia could lean against him fully, instead of just into his side.

“What would you do if you could do anything right now?” she asked Tate, slightly surprising him. He tried not to think about these things, only because it would make him anticipate Halloween much sooner than he wanted.

“I dunno... Run to the beach I guess. Hang out there for a while.”

Sophia smiled at his answer, though she knew he wasn't going to ask the same question to her, so she decided just to tell him. “I'd get my friends together, go to the greasiest burger joint in town then drive along the coast in my boyfriend's blue '85 Camaro,” she said, walking away from Tate before staring out the kitchen window at the world.

“Didn't know you had a boyfriend,” Tate said truthfully, remaining in his spot as he watched Sophia walk away. “But the way you talk about food, I'd expect you to be some fat chick,” he teased.

Tate expected her to tell him to shut up jokingly, or maybe point out a high metabolism or active life style but she only stared out the kitchen window, her light green eyes widening at whatever she could see out the window. Tate stood up straight from leaning against the counter, ready to ask her what was wrong before he heard the front door opening, along with a female voice saying, “Alright, come in.”

After hearing the voice, Tate walked over to Sophia, looking out the window and saw the exact car she had just described parked out in front of the mansion. He looked down to Sophia then, seeing her eyes instantly water, tears breaching the surface before rolling down her pale cheeks.

“Sophie,” he spoke quietly, hearing three voices in the house now, voices that didn't belong there. “Sophie,” he spoke louder, quickly reaching out to grab her, one of his hands wrapping around her mouth before she could call out to whoever had come to see her grave. “Stop, they can't see you,” Tate insisted, holding her tight as she struggled, moving her away from the window.

“Please,” she cried, the word barely audible after being muffled against the palm of his hand.

“No, its the same thing with your parents. You don't want your friends here. Let them do whatever they're gonna do and then let them leave,” Tate tried to quickly reason with her. Still, she struggled against him.

“Sophie, listen to me,” Tate rose his voice, his face dangerously close to hers, commanding her attention and silence. She stopped struggling, and Tate felt safe enough to drop his hand from his mouth, both his hands now on her face, making her look up at him. “You don't want them to see you.”

“Let me see them, please,” Sophia pleaded with him, continuing to cry. She had this thing about her, like a puppy, that made it hard for him to say no. “You can't,” he said, though he let her go, stepping back as she quickly walked out of the kitchen, to find her friends. “Sophie!” he called after her, frustrated with both her and himself.

Tate caught up to her, standing in a room to the left or the front door, immediately before the staircase and entrance. “I left her here,” they heard a teen's voice, she was sobbing as she spoke. Standing next to Sophia, hidden from her friends, Tate could see three teenagers that had broken into the house. There were two girls, one about Sophia's height and blonde, the other a bit taller with wavy brunette hair and blue highlights. There was one guy with them, about Tate's height, possibly taller with short black hair, probably natural instead of dyed like Sophia's.

“I don't know where she went,” the blonde kept crying, the only one out of the trio who was, though it looked like everybody had cried their fair share of tears that week.

“It's not your fault, Cait. Everybody was scrambling to get out of here, we didn't know,” the guy spoke, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, much like Tate had just done moments earlier to Sophia as a sob escaped her.

“Nobody blames you,” the other girl spoke, trying to comfort the crying blonde.

“Tate,” Sophia whispered, still staring at her friends.

“No,” he replied, looking down at her, making sure his grip was strong in case he had to hold her back.

“Come on,” the guy spoke, lightly tugging the blonde girl away, as the brunette quickly bent over, blocked by the staircase from where Tate and Sophia stood in the archway connecting the room to the entrance. She stood back up quickly, before walking away with her friends.

“There's nothing here, anyways. We didn't expect to see ghosts at the party, so we were foolish to expect to find her here now,” she spoke sadly, walking out of the open front door first, the guy and the blonde slowly following.

Tate let go of Sophia then, letting her walk around the staircase to see a school photo of Sophia framed in a cheap plastic frame, surrounded by small tea candles, that the brunette probably had just lit, as well as some random assortment of flowers, as if they were stolen one by one at a floral shop.

Tate moved next to Sophia again as she stared down at the small remembrance to her that her friends had left, hearing her begin to cry harder. “Sophie,” he spoke softly, willing to help her carry the stuff up to her room before he was suddenly shocked at how loud her voice got.

“Mayer!” she shouted, and he turned, eyes wide that she would disobey him so suddenly, while she looked out at the front porch, her friends walking away after ungratefully leaving the door wide open.

“Sophie,” he scolded her, grabbing her arm before she could call out to them again, hoping that none of them had heard her, but of course the guy had to turn around after a second and look back into the house. His eyes went wide, nearly bulging at the sight of Tate and Sophia standing in the very spot they had just left.

The first of the three to react was, of course, the blonde, who quickly bolted back into the house after taking a second to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Sophia quickly caught her in a tight hug as they cried together, the other two wandering back into the house, disbelief written across their faces. Tate watched the two friends hug before feeling the urge to send his fist through a wall. He turned around, biting his tongue and took a deep breath in, his fingers running through his shaggy dark blonde hair.

“Why didn't you stay put?” Caitlin sobbed into Sophia, unable to comprehend that she was actually dead.

“I'm so sorry Caitlin,” Sophia replied as the blonde kept repeating her question.

“Sophie?” The guy asked, gaining her attention, staring at her for another second before taking both Caitlin and Sophia into a hug, kissing Sophia on her forehead as tears sprang into his eyes.

“Is this real?” the brunette asked, staring at Sophia who was currently encased by two sets of arms.

“I'm real,” Sophia confirmed, bot overjoyed and horribly sad at the same time. “I'm real.”

“This can't be happening,” the brunette shook her head, while Mayer and Caitlin finally let go of Sophia, who immediately hugged her other friend.

“Who are you?” Mayer asked, his voice getting slightly deeper, as he spoke staring at him. Tate, who was watching this unfold before him, glared back.

Sophia looked back to him as well, his hair nearly covering his blackened, murderous eyes. Sophia was shocked at how pissed he looked, though it seemed directed at her friends and not her personally. “Tate,” she spoke, as Di and her broke their hug, everybody facing him now. He looked over to her from her boyfriend, his glare softening though he still didn't look friendly.

“They shouldn't be here,” he spoke to her through a set jaw.

“Hey, who the fuck are you to say– ” Mayer started, straightening his posture, and Tate was sure that Mayer was taller than him now, though that didn't matter, he had taken on taller guys before and won. Not to mention he was a ghost. Whatever happened, Tate would recover ten times faster.

“Mayer, stop it,” Sophia cut her boyfriend off, as well as Tate's readiness to fight him, as she pushed Mayer backwards a step. “Stop it.”

“Who is this fuck?” Mayer asked, quickly growing angry with his dead girlfriend.

“His name's Tate, and hes not some fuck, he's my friend. So back off, okay?” Sophia spoke sternly, Mayer staring at her, before looking back to Tate.

“Seriously, Mayer. Stop it,” Caitlin spoke after her best friend, before Mayer could spew anymore bullshit. “I'm sorry, Tate,” she then turned, speaking to him, shocking some of the hate from off his face.

“Are you a ghost too?” Di asked, moving her brunette and blue bangs out of her face to get a better look at him.

“Yeah,” he spoke, before swallowing more of his hate, “We both are.”

“Bull,” Mayer spoke, looking from Tate to Sophia. “You're not a ghost, either of you.”

“We went to her funeral,” Di spoke briskly, “You saw her laying in her casket.”

“Why would they lie about being dead?” Caitlin asked him, finally able to control her tears.

Mayer only shook his head, looking down at his girlfriend. “Why are you hiding here with him?” he asked her. The way he spoke to her, like this was Sophia's choice, fed Tate's anger and he was fuming again in seconds.

“What are you doing here?” a loud voice echoed down the staircase before Sophia could even think of a reply to how big of a jerk Mayer was being to Tate, she didn't understand him.

The five teenagers looked up to see Ben Harmon standing on the second floor landing of the house, looking down at them.

“Who the fuck are you?” Mayer asked, being shoved again by Sophia.

“Shut up, Mayer,” she warned though he seemed unaffected by her, his ornery state impenetrable.

“I'm your worst fucking nightmare if you don't get out of my house right now,” Ben spoke, casual yet a sinister undertone to his voice. He certainly looked threatening, however normal of a ghost he was.

That warning was enough to shut Mayer up, though he wasn't about to run out of the house willingly.

“Come on,” Sophia spoke, tugging on his leather jacket to try and get him, as well as Caitlin and Di out of the house.

“Look what he did to me,” a doubled sentence came from the room where Tate and Sophia once were, followed immediately by a scream from Di. There were two girls dressed in old fashioned nurse uniforms, one soaking wet, the other covered in bloody stab wounds, and both pale as their white uniforms.

“Move,” Sophia panicked, pushing Mayer back with all her force before the four of them ran out of the house. She stayed in the back, watching Di jump into Mayer's blue Camaro first, Caitlin running through the gate next, right before Mayer himself. Sophia, instead of trying to run through the gate as well, quickly swung it shut behind them, locking it.

“Sophie, what are you doing?” Mayer turned around, hearing the gate slam and saw her still on the other side.

“Come on!” Di insisted, growing paler by the second.

“I can't go with you, I'm stuck here,” she said, wrapping her hands around two of the gate's bars.

“Stop it, open the gate and lets go,” he pleaded, moving to try and unlock it, but Sophia only swatted his hands away.

“I can't, Mayer. I'm dead. I'm stuck here,” Sophia tried to make him understand.

“Sophie,” Caitlin said, walking back slowly from Mayer's convertible. She only shook her head at her best friend.

“I can't go, you have to go,” she told them.

“Sophie, there's no way you're dead –” Mayer began but Sophia reached through the gate to grab his face, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him through the bars.

“I love you,” she mumbled against his lips, continuing to kiss him before she was suddenly gone, leaving Mayer's face pressed against the bars of the wrought iron gate. This time, it was Caitlin who screamed, watching her friend vanish into thin air. Sophia was still there, watching their reactions from a few feet back than where she was standing, now hidden from them once again.

“Let's go,” Mayer said, looking hopelessly scared at this point. “Let's go!” he yelled at Caitlin, quickly running around to the driver side of his car before peeling out, driving quickly away from the mansion.

Sophia felt a hand fall onto her shoulder, making her jump. When she turned, expecting to find Tate, she instead found Ben next to her.

“I'm sorry,” Ben spoke to her. “We can't have living people in the house, it'll find ways to kill them,” he clarified for Sophia. She nodded, looking down at her feet, unable to hold back her tears. “Don't let them come back,” Ben told her, moving his hand to rub her back before leaving her alone to cry in the front yard of the house.