𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜)

Murder house.

Tate Langdon, a troubled boy with a ghastly past. A lost child, neglect from his mother, abandonment by his father, and his troublesome thoughts.

"Tate, honey, grab the luggage, won't you dear?" Tate's mother, Constance asked the blonde haired teenage boy. Constance was a old horrid woman. Very rude, old fashioned, and didn't believe in a lot of things. Including therapy.

"Yeah, mom." Tate replied. He sat up in the backseat of the car, and got out. Tate looked up at the sunny, blue sky. Tate would always run to nature when things didn't feel normal. Nature felt normal to him.

"Now, boy!" His mother snapped, pointing her finger at him. He quickly nodded, and grabbed the luggage from the dirty trunk that wasn't cleaned.

Violet.
Violet was a soul that loved everyone, and everybody. People took advantage of her. People ran over her. Violet swore that she'd never let anyone else be as foolish as her, so she'd help them see the light in the darkness. Violet stood in her old bedroom, on the second floor, watching tate and his mother stroll in the aged home.

"Oh boy, they do not know what they're in for.." violet said to herself. Violet took a drag of her cigarette, closed her eyes as she blew out the last puff of it. She flicked the ashes into the already opened window. She got up, waiting for the boy to walk into her old bedroom, which was now his. Impatient, she rolled her eyes and sat back down on the windowsill. Staring out into the neighborhood, a neighborhood she once could walk down. A neighborhood she once enjoyed. Lost in her own thoughts, and dwelling on her past, she forgot who she was waiting to see.

"Who are you?" A male voice asked. Violet turned around from the windowsill, scanning the teenage boys outfit, and posture.

"Oh sweetie, stand up straight. Don't slouch." Violet babbled. Tate stood confused. Violet raised her eyebrow, looking him in the eyes. Tate cleared his throat, fixing his posture.

"That's better." Violet grinned. Tate scratched the back of his head, nervously. Violet catches on to the awkwardness. She giggled.

"Oh my, I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself." Violet beamed. Tate's eyes ran across the walls of the room, and the floor, and the one window that violet previously had smoked on. Tate's eyes trail down to the cigarette that's still on the windowsill.

"You've been smoking in my room?" Tate rolled his eyes. He shoved past violet, picked up the cigarette, and threw it out the window. Violet shrugged.

"It's just a cigarette." She said. Tate turned to her.

"I hate smokers." Tate replied, clearly bothered that she had been smoking. Violet scoffed.

"You've never even tried smoking, have you?" She asked. Tate stood silent, clicking his tongue. Violet shook her head, deciding to change the subject.

"I'm violet Harmon, your.."

"Neighbor." She sighed. She stuck out her hand to Tate, trying to be nice for a first impression. He slowly stuck his out, and shook her hand. He pulled it back afterwards, and stuck it to his side.

"How'd you get in here?" Tate questioned. Violet stuck her hands in her pants pockets.

"Door was unlocked, and I wanted to meet the new neighbor." Violet replied. A knock traveled down the old, brown bedroom door. Violet immediately turned around, making eye contact with Constance, who just knocked on the door.

"Hey, mom." Tate exhaled. Violet focused on his breathing, noticing his hair stood up when talking to her, but managing to talk to her in a calm voice.

"Who in gods name are you?" Constance harshly asked the teenage girl. Violet grinned.

"So sorry, uh-my name is violet."

"Violet Harmon."

Those words sunk into Constance's brain, like she remembered them from somewhere.

"I should be leaving, my mother needs me home for dinner soon." Violet said. She turned back to tate, waving bye. She turned the corner,  disappearing like she was never there. Violet reappearing in the air, leaning against the cold walls of the horrid basement.

"I can already smell the desperation coming off of all of you." Violet said, annoyed. She threw her hands up in the air, in frustration.

"Oh for fucks sake, come out of hiding you cowards!" She yelled. After a minute of silence, she hears two familiar laughs.

"Why hello, Bryan, Troy." Violet snickered at the two twins.

"Hi, ms. Violet." The two twins said. She cleared her throat.

"Everyone, come out NOW." Violet screamed. You'd think that someone would come down to the basement, if they heard a scream. But, the screams can only be heard if you wanna hear them. Or, if they want the screams to be heard.

"I think they're scared of you.". Bryan spoke up. Violet averted her eyes down to the small Boys.

"No, they wanna take a vow of silence so they don't have to address the problem." Violet said, bothersome. The two twins bounced a ball up and down the walls.

"Quit it!" Violet snapped. The twins immediately stopped. Violet sighed. Violet closed her eyes.

"Vivien Harmon, Ben Harmon, Larry Harvey, Moira O Hara, Hayden McClaine, Chad Warwick, Patrick Warwick, Lorraine Harvey, Charles Montgomery, Nora Montgomery, Elizabeth Short, Maria, Gladys, Thaddeus Montgomery, And Jeffery Harmon." Violet yelled, shaking the basement walls. She opened her eyes, seeing all of the souls standing right in front of her.

"There you little cowards are." Violet rolled her eyes.

"What's the issue?" Her mother, Vivien Harmon asked. Her father Ben Harmon, stood next to Vivien proudly, and held his baby Jeffrey in his arms. Violet leaned against the wall.

"There's a new family who moved in, just two people." She explained. She stared at all the souls, looking at them with a death threat.

"All I ask from you all, is don't corrupt this family." She said.

"Where's the fun in that, eh?" Larry Harvey laughed. Violet walked over to the other side of the basement, and grabbed a long cane. She walked up to the half burned bastard, and hit him clean across the non burned half of his face with the cane.

"Mess with him, and I'll know" violet dropped the cane, and ran up the basement stairs.