Zombie Boy - Kyle Spencer - American Horror Story

Chapter Four

I woke up in my own bed and looked over to see Kyle back in Madison's bed. I must have fallen asleep and he put me back in bed and went to sleep. Cordelia entered the room, a strained smile pressed against her lips.

"Good morning Jamie," she said softly, so as not to wake the others. "I don't want you to panic, but your father has been spotted in the area. I saw it on the news. But don't worry, we have put protection spells on the house and as long as you don't ..." her voice drowned out as I flung my covers off. A strange look stung her face - she must have seen the expression on mine. I got out of bed and just started running. It felt like I had no control over my body, I had to get out of there.

Cordelia called after me, waking everyone up, including Kyle. I could hear him following me as my legs pumped faster, down the stairs, out the door. I was about to run down the street when someone tackled be from behind and we tumbled onto the hard grass. I turned over and it was Kyle, holding me tightly in his arms.

"You can't leave," he breathed heavily.

I shook my head, my brown hair falling into my eyes. "I have to go. I can't stay here. He's going to find me."

Kyle squeezed me tighter and said, "It's safer in the coven. You have to stay."

He stared at me so intently. And suddenly I was overcome with rage. I threw him off of me and stood up.

"What is your problem?" I yelled and he scrambled to his feet, his face pale and shocked.

"What?" he sputtered.

"Why do you care if I stay? Why do you follow me around?" I demanded, my hands on my hips. He was with Madison, so why was he bothering me?

Kyle shrugged, scratching his tangled blonde hair. "Um... I don't know. I just want you to be okay."

"Why?" I asked rudely. "Madison is your girlfriend."

"I mean, she's not my girlfriend... I don't know. I just - There's something about you. Something special," he said quietly and somehow that made me even angrier.

"Is that a joke? We live with a coven of witches," I said flatly. "You know what, just stay away from me," I snapped and stormed back inside.

It was later that evening when I was starting to feel better. Everyone was out running errands and I was making myself a coffee in the kitchen. Kyle was moping upstairs - I guess I had hurt his feelings. But I didn't care at the moment.

That's when I heard the front door creak open. I walked into the hall, holding my mug in hand. The front door was wide open, but no one was in sight.

"Hello?" I called out. I heard a crash from the kitchen. This better not be Kyle or Madison playing some lame joke. If it is I swear I'll -

I screamed and dropped my mug of coffee on the floor and it shattered into pieces. Standing before me was my biological father. He had a thick beard surrounding his face and he looked dirty, his eyes wild.

"No!" I yelled, and tried to run the other way but he tripped me and began to drag my legs towards the front door. I managed to wiggled free and kick him in the shin but he lunged at me, and I felt his fist collide with my face, blow after blow.

And all of a sudden I was 10 again when he had kidnapped me from my house and held me captive in his basement.

I came to and sat up, no one was in the room. But blood was everywhere.

"Kyle?" I called out, rushing through the house. I found him in the green house covered in blood.

"Kyle," I whimpered. "What happened?" My face felt swollen and I could feel fresh blood trickle down my nose.

He shook his head and wrapped his arms around me. "You don't have to worry about him ever again," he whispered and squeezed me tight. Then he lead me upstairs and sat me down on the toilet in the bathroom. I said nothing. I was frozen in shock. Was I dreaming?

Kyle wiped away some of the dry blood and bandaged my cuts. "There's a lot of blood here. You should shower or take a bath," he suggested but I said nothing and stared into the distance. He began to draw a bath and added some of Zoe's lemon scented bubbles.

"Do you need help getting in?" he asked me softly, taking my hand. I couldn't say anything. I was trapped inside my own body, my own mind. I was still back in my father's basement at the age of 10 with an amber alert out for me.

Kyle slid the sweater from my shoulders. It felt to the floor and I stared at him blankly. He began to slowly slide my t-shirt dress up my legs and over my head. I didn't stop him. I stood there in my underwear and bra and he paused when he saw the scrapes and bruises on my body. He dragged his fingers along my purple collar bone and up my neck along the red hand prints. He wouldn't take off my underwear and bra. He couldn't bring himself to. Not after what happened with his mother, he didn't know if that was okay to do. He led me to the bath and I sat down in the warm bubbles. It helped and soothed my stinging skin, but I was still lost inside my head. I stared back at him helplessly.

Kyle nodded and slipped off his t-shirt and pants so that he was only in his boxers. He slid into the bath and grabbed the sponge from the shelf and wiped down my face first and then my neck and my chest. It was so strange how just a few days ago I had to bathe him while he was struggling.

"I think I love you," he whispered and I finally snapped back into reality.

"What?" I gasped, my body shaking.

"I don't know why. Ever since you came here I couldn't stay away from you. I couldn't stop staring at you," he breathed. I moved closer to him until I was straddling his lap. His heart rate sped up and his breathing turned shallow.