The Release {American Horror Story}

Chapter Eleven | The Death

(Cordelia POV)

I took in a gasp of air, opening my eyes as my body was shaking. The spell had worked, and I had seen every single death that happened here in the house. It was awful; it was as if I was there beside all of the victims, witnessing their deaths, but I couldn't do anything except watch all of it before my own eyes. Every living thing that had died in the house stayed, their spirit stuck here for eternity.

All starting with the deaths of the Montgomerys, Madison's ancestors, and ending with the deaths of the Harmon family.

Moira...I had seen her die, and she was a spirit, still living in the house. Now I knew why she wanted to clean the house and was willing to do so for free...she was stuck here and was willing to do anything that meant not sitting around the house.

Seeing the daughter of the Harmon family, Violet, unnerved me, the resemblance between her and Zoe was immaculate and unsettling. And seeing Tate, his appearance alike to Kyle without a doubt. This couldn't be a coincidence...

Remembering how Zoe had been acting strangely for the past couple weeks, being closed and saying she promised someone that she couldn't tell anyone why she was upset, I finally understood why. She must have seen Violet's spirit and was told not to say anything. As I met this realization, a feeling of panic washed over me.

How would the other girls react to knowing that there are spirits here? If Zoe acted unusual because of seeing the spirits, how would the others react to it? No, they would not know how to respond to this...

Biting my lip and recounting all of the deaths that happened here that could traumatize them, I knew I needed a plan...for now, I couldn't tell anyone just yet.

***

(Zoe POV)

"Give her time," I spoke, crossing my arms. "This is something she needs to think about before she decides anything."

"It's been a week since I talked to her!" Tate yelled impatiently, a dark glare in his eyes. "I can't take another minute not seeing her, not talking to her! Please, just talk to her again, for me..."

I leaned against the wall of my bedroom, and Tate sat on my bed, looking up at me with a begging expression, but it didn't convince me at all.

I shook my head. "No, Tate, this is between you and her now, and I will not convince her for you anymore. I'm the whole reason she even saw you last week, and now you expect me to do more for you?"

Tate let out a loud moan and grabbed his hair and threw a fit, punching the bed with his fists. "Why won't she see me! I need her! I love her!" He began hitting himself in the face and kept yelling her name, calling out for her with desperate cries.

"Stop! Tate, stop it!" I went over and grabbed his arms, pulling them away from his face. He looked up at me, and I saw that he was a mess - his face was red with his own hand and finger marks, his eyes were bloodshot and swollen from tears, and spit hung from the corner of his mouth. He looked...psychotic.

"You can't keep hurting yourself, Tate," I brushed the hair out of his face, his eyes watering up more. "Except the fact that after everything you did, she may not forgive you. But for now, you need to leave here alone. Give her the time she needs."

"I can't, though," Tate cried out. "Without her I'm nothing and I become this...a freaking horror show who can't control anything."

I sat down next to him, and he cried into my shoulder. Trying to comfort him, I gently patted his back.

"It's okay, just give it time-"

"Zoe? What in God's name were you doing up here?"

Turning my head towards the door, Kyle stood there with a confused and worried expression on his face. Looking out of the corner of my eye I saw that Tate was gone, not wanting to be seen anymore, leaving me sitting on the bed alone.