CHAPTER ONE
Constance POV
MY heart skipped a beat. It took a second before I could think. Before I could move. Finally my feet walked toward the bloodstained fridge. Still holding the carton of milk in my hand I quickly opened the fridge. Empty. I put the milk on the bottom shelf and turned around to collect the rest of the groceries when I noticed more blood and a broken jar.
Shards of glass flowered out over my laminate kitchen floor. Worried I began calling out for the nanny again while following the blood that was smeared along the hallway "Floria?" My breathing came faster. The cold air drying the back of my throat.
I quickened my pace as the blood trail got thicker. Walking into Michael's room I see Floria our nanny lying in a pool of thick red blood oozing from the large gash under her fat chin. She lay cold and dead on my grandson's bedroom floor. Staring at the ceiling eyes open. Expressionless.
I looked up at Michael who was smiling so innocently in his bloodied rocking chair. I knew this was going to happen. Like father like son. Still in shock I walked over to Michael, being careful not to stand on any of the blood. Michael's wicked eyes never left mine. Showing me his bloody hands he laughed at his handy work. I placed my hand on his knee and smirked looking at his curly blonde hair. He looked so much like Tate. Holding his face in my hands I shook my head. If only Tate could see him now. Seen what he had so selfishly created. I looked into Michaels heavy brown eyes "now what am I going to do with you?" Michael flashed me a deadly smile.
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American Horror Story (Tate and Violet Fanfiction)
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