A Night in Murder House//discontinued

First Day of Death

I don't remember even screaming. Just staring up at the starless night sky. Then a split second of excruciating pain. Then nothing. I got up from lying on my back to see all of the people who had died in this house watching me. Some were smiling and others looked solemn. I looked down and saw my broken, crumbled body. The sight was sickening, but I did not cry or gasp. My ability to to surprised was completely ruined.

"We need to hide the body," said Chad Warwick. I stepped back as he and Dr. Harmon picked it up and walked into the house. The others walked back into the house or disappeared where they were standing. The only ones that stayed were Violet and Tate. I sank down to the grass with my legs out in front of me and put my face in my hands. I'm stuck here. What about my mom? Sarah? Now what do I do? I thought. Someone approached me sat down next to me. "I'm so sorry," Tate said. I looked up. Violet came and sat down next to me after that. We stayed like that for a while until I fell asleep.

I woke up when the sun rose. It was very early. My head was on Tate's lap. When I sat up, I found that Violet had moved and her head was on Tate's chest, his hand over hers. Both of them were still sound asleep. It made me happy to see that they were closer, after seeing the tension between them last night.

I began to think about last night. The most shocking thing, oddly enough, was not dying. It was that I put my life in the hands of two complete strangers, one of which was a mass murderer. I don't blame them at all for my death, though. They dried their best to help me escape.

The more I thought about last night, the more panicked I became. What happened to Darren? If he had died too, I'd know, right? I quietly got up and looked around the basement. When I was satisfied with my search, I concluded that he had left at some point last night. Even he is smart enough to know to leave after being attacked. I went back outside and waited for Tate and Violet to wake up. They finally did after about an hour.

Violet woke first, and as soon as she realized where she was, she jumped up and vanished. The motion woke Tate. "What happened?" he asked. He sat up.

"Why does Violet hate you?" I asked. He sighed. "It's a long story." His eyes watered a bit but he blinked away the tears. "I have time," I said, smiling a little bit. He let out a small laugh. Then he explained everything.

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When he finished the story, I couldn't help but feel bad for Tate. What he did was wrong, but I understand why he did it. "I'm so sorry," I said. I know I probably shouldn't be, but he has shown me nothing but kindness. He had tried to save me. "I don't think you are a bad person. And I don't think Violet thinks that either, especially not after last night. Besides, she chose to sleep closer to you. That says something," I said.

Tate looked up at me with tear filled eyes. He had started crying when he told me about what he had done to the Harmons. "If you do t mind me asking, what happened to, you know, your son?" The question was so personal and awkward that I had a hard time even saying it.

"He lives with Constance, my cocksucking mother. They're a fitting pair if you ask me. The asshole mother with the antichrist child. He's probably killed at least a dozen people by now. And it is all my fault," he said as a new wave of sobs wracked his body. I hesitated for a moment before rubbing his back. I was not good at physical contact and I never had been.

"Is there any way I can help?" I wanted him to feel better. He had been through so much. He had no friends in this house except for Nora. And maybe me. Tate shook his head no. "It's probably for the best. I don't deserve to be forgiven."

"I'd like to think that you do. Tate, if you were really a terrible person you wouldn't have helped me." My words seem to make him feel better, because he looks up at me with a genuine heart warming smile. I returned his smile. We continued to talk for a while, changing the subject to something slightly more pleasant. He asked me about my family, my interests, school, friends. I was beginning to feel a lot better about being dead until he asked: "What did you want to do, had you not died?"

The question made me realize the permanent state I was in. "I wanted to do something with forensic science," I say solemnly. "What about you?" I asked him.

"I never really thought much about the future when I was alive. I still don't. Maybe if I did my life wouldn't be so fucked up." We sat in silence for a few moments after that. Then Tate got up. Be put a hand out and pulled me up.

"Let's go clear any evidence of you being here," he said. And we did exactly that. We took out my phone battery and stomped on it, burned the memory card from my camera then threw the rest of it through a window in his mother's house. That seemed to make Tate very happy. Everything else we hid with my body.

"Maybe when my body has decayed a bit more I could examine my bones," I say excitedly. Tate looks at me for a moment, trying to assess if I'm being serious. Then he laughs. "You are very strange," he says. Eventually we retreat to the basement. "Don't worry about Thaddeus. He won't bother us if we tell him to go away. It's the same with everyone else here." He whispered the last sentence so quietly that I could barely hear it, but I understood what, or who more likely, he was referencing.

We sat on the basement floor for several hours after that, silent. "Tate?" The voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter. In walked Violet Harmon.