American Horror Story: A New Chapter

Chapter Two: Panic

 CHAPTER TWO

~ PANIC ~

On Sunday morning, the day after the Hassinger family moved into the Murder House, Constance Langdon knocked on the front door. The female twin – Constance didn't know her name – let her in, leading her to the kitchen where her mother baked cookies. Constance looked around the house that was once hers, her careful eyes taking in every minor detail that had changed. She deplored the brown rug the new family had put in the hall. Does no one have taste anymore? Constance thought.

"Mom, someone's here to see you," said the girl as she and Constance entered the kitchen. "She's our next-door neighbour." The mother looked up, her hair escaping from its messy bun and falling into her eyes. She wiped the flour from her hands and held one out to Constance.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Madeleine Hassinger. You live next door?"

"Yes, just in that big house on the right," said Constance kindly, shaking the woman's hand. "My name's Constance Langdon," she added. As Madeleine turned around, Constance wiped her hand off on her dress.

"How lovely," said Madeleine, returning to her cookies. "This is my daughter, Artemis." Madeleine nodded to the blonde teenage girl that sat at the bench, eating an apple. Artemis smiled and nodded to Constance.

"How, how nice, she's such a beautiful girl," Constance noted, turning her charm all the way up. "She obviously takes after her momma."

Madeleine chuckled. "Oh, don't be silly, the twins get their good looks from their dad," she said. "Speaking of your father, Arty, could you find him for me? He'd like to meet our neighbour."

"Sure," said Artemis. She smiled at Constance again and left the kitchen, her big boots making loud clunking noises on the wooden floor as she ascended the stairs.

"Please, sit," said Madeleine, gesturing to the stools at the bench. "Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?"

Constance held up her hand. "No, thank you," she declined. "So, what brought ya'll here to L.A.?"

It was important to Constance to be on good terms with the occupants of this house. She needed access to the house, to the place where her sons lived. She visited Beau a few times a month, and she spoke to Tate as much as possible ... but that was not very often, as Tate tended to avoid her, but she would see them even less if she wasn't on good terms with the people living in the house.

"Well, the kids both got scholarships to a performing arts school here," said Madeleine, as she rolled the cookie dough into small balls. "Marie DeClaire. So we moved here so they could go to that school."

"Wow," said Constance, nodding and pretending to be enthralled by Madeleine's words. "So you've got a couple of talented little ones! How nice."

"They've both got bright futures," said Madeleine, smiling proudly. "We wouldn't have moved here if we didn't have faith in them."

"You sound like wonderful parents."

"Do you have any children?" Madeleine asked.

The harmless question brought unpleasant thoughts and memories to Constance's mind. Beau locked in the attic. Adelaide, dying in her arms before Constance could get her to the lawn of this house. Tate being shot to death by the SWAT team in his bedroom after shooting up his high school and setting Constance's lover on fire. Michael covered in blood with the bodies of those innocent children at his feet ...