If These Walls Could Talk (American Horror Story Asylum FanFic)

Chapter 17

Author's Note

Like the show, I ended up putting in the scene that happens in Oliver's basement between him and Lana/Freya. So, this is a trigger warning to everyone.

When I woke up the next morning my breasts were sore to the touch and my wrists were an angry red colour. I gently rubbed at them, flicking my eyes around the room I was in.

Everything still looked the same, and I noticed that he had picked the knife back up from the floor and hung it up on the wall alongside the other knives.

It's like he's mocking me, displaying his knives like that.

I sighed and leaned back against the headboard, trying to focus my mind on my escape.

As soon as you get out of here, you've got to go to the newspapers. Police won't be able to help. They would just want to keep it all hush hush. The newspapers would want to blow it up, like the story should be.

The door to the basement opened up and someone began to walk down the steps.

It was Oliver. He didn't speak until he reached the side of the bed.

"Hello Freya."

His hands were fidgety and he kept wiping them on his pants.

I cleared my throat. "Is something wrong...Oliver?"

"I want to love you like I tried to love my mother, all those years ago in the morgue."

My heart took up an unnaturally fast pace. "What?"

He turned and flicked off the lights, leaving on a small bulb that illuminated his various knives hanging on the wall. Then he got undressed and turned to face me.

I shook my head. "Please, don't do this."

His stare hardened. "Are you implying that you don't love me, mommy?"

Just do this one thing Freya. It'll only be for a little while. Just focus on your escape. It will happen.

"Of course I love you." My voice hitched when I spoke, my tears choking me. "My sweet, sweet boy."

He smiled and straddled me once again, entering me quickly and painfully.

I gasped in pain and he grunted with each rough push he made into me, his pelvic bone grinding against mine. I turned my head to the side and in the darkness I could see a person, standing in the corner of the room.

Just then Oliver's hand shot up and wrapped itself around my throat, cutting off my air.

"Help." I wheezed out.

The person continued to stand there and my vision began to blur from lack of oxygen.

Finally, I felt him release himself inside of me with one last push and his hand let go of my neck.

I immediately gasped for air, filling my lungs to the brim with the sweet oxygen.

He quickly left, not saying a word to me and leaving all the lights off, save for the one near his collection.

I kept my gaze on the figure at the corner of the room, watching them walk towards me.

It was a woman, dressed all in black. She had netting over half of her face and her lips were covered in a shock of blood red lipstick, offsetting her alabaster skin.

"Who are you?"

She sat down on the bed beside me, running her impossibly cold fingers over my sore neck where he had grabbed it.

"I'm here to take the pain away, if you wish me to."

Her voice was soothing, reminding me of my mother's voice when I was a young child.

I stared up into her dark eyes, and nodded my head.

She sadly smiled and as she leaned down towards me a pair of black wings emerged from her back, spreading the width of the room and curling back towards the two of us like a shield.

I turned my head to the side, staring at the picture of Annabelle on the nightstand. Thoughts of our life together raced through my head, along with thoughts of what could have been.

"Wait."

I pushed myself to sit up, facing the woman in front of me.

"I can't. Not yet."

She nodded and her wings disappeared back behind her.

The door opened.

"Freya?"

I turned towards the voice.

"Are you decent?" Oliver said.

He came down the stairs anyways without waiting for me to answer and when I turned back to look, the woman was gone.

"I need to speak with you."

I turned back to him. He was wearing the same clothes as earlier but his shirt wasn't tucked in properly and his hair was a mess.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"I think it was a mistake to bring you here. And the only way to fix that mistake is to kill you."

A sob flew out of my mouth and I clutched the sheets tightly in my hands. He put up his hands like he was surrendering.

"Don't be frightened! That's why I wanted to speak with you. I thought I would give you a choice. I could either slit your throat or I could strangle you."

"Oh no..." I began to sob harder.

"Why didn't I think of this before?" He walked over to one of the tables lining the sides of the room and opened up a drawer, pulling out a large syringe filled with clear liquid. "This will help. You won't feel a thing at all."

"No!!"

I threw back the sheets and tried to jump out of bed but he was faster than me. He ran to the bed and grabbed my leg, dragging me towards him.

I screamed and thrashed around but he straddled me, pinning my body down with his. He gripped my throat with one hand while the other held the needle.

"Stop fighting me!" he yelled.

He brought his face close to mine. "You can be with Annabelle again."

I turned my head towards the framed picture of Annabelle on the nightstand.

The light that was on glinted in the glass frame and an idea formed in my head.

I reached out my arm like I was going to merely touch the picture but instead I gripped it tight and swung my arm back, crashing the glass frame down hard against the side of Oliver's head.

He screamed in pain and fell on his back beside me, bleeding heavily from the cuts on his face and head. I rolled on top of him and wrapped my hands around his neck, trying to strangle him but he overtook me and flipped me onto my back.

With a surge of adrenaline I pushed with all my might and the both of us fell to the floor, me landing on top of him. He immediately began to fight back but I reached up to the bed and grabbed the syringe, plunging it deep into his thigh and pushing down. He roared in pain and his fists flew, hitting my body.

I grabbed the chain that had held me captive there and wrapped it around his neck, making sure that I didn't break eye contact with him until he finally passed out, his eyes swinging shut.

I didn't waste another second.

My hands shook as I quickly searched his pockets until finally finding the key. I unlocked my chains and ran up the basement stairs, not looking back.