Jules knows Violet is a (ex_haint987) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-06-30 23:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | door: american horror story, violet harmon |
Who: Violet
What: Narrative
Where: The Murder House
When: Just after Hayden and Tate bloody the place up
Warnings/Rating: Mentions of self-harm
Violet walked through the door to the grand old house in California with a child's trepidation.
Hayden was here now, and she didn't need her dad to be around for Hayden to be a total problem. She knew Hayden hated her, and she hated Hayden in return, and that wasn't going to change because they were all Twilight Zone inside other people's heads and stuff. She she was creeped, and she was kinda expecting bad stuff from the very first step. But everything was hella quiet, and that was equally unsettling. But maybe it was just the house. It was all always unsettling, even when it was behaving, like she could feel it breathing and stuff. When she'd first moved in, she'd totally thought that was epic, but now it was just weird, and it reminded her she was dead all the time, and that just wasn't cool.
She didn't waste any time downstairs, and her converse squeaked as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom. But she didn't make it there before she smelled the blood, and she squeaked to a stop and backtracked. She walked backwards and backwards, stopping once she was in her parents' room. And she didn't go there because she was scared or anything; it was just the closest room.
"Tate!" she called out, because he always came when she called, at least if he was around. The fact that her voice echoed down the wood-lined hall without him showing up with his blond curls and his angel's face made her realize she was really alone. If Hayden was here, she would have totally taken that opportunity to rub Tate's absence in her face. Cool, so she was alone. Cool
She turned to leave the room, and that's when she noticed the note scribbled on the glass over the dresser in red lipstick: Has he ever tied you up, Vi?
It was a girl's handwriting, and Violet stared it for a few seconds before walking out of the room. The same tone of red caught her attention on the bathroom mirror, this time a note asking if she liked it kinky, and a similar note lined the flat surface of the end table at the end of the hall, this one about Tate tying up pretty redheads.
She broke into a run, down the stairs, and a glance right gave away what she had missed before.
Blood.
There was blood everywhere, and another note on the glass above the fireplace, a repetition of one upstairs: Ask Tate about alternative uses for scarves and tights.
Nothing in the notes indicated that Tate had been messing around with a girl from another door, and Violet was too busy trying not to cry to interpret the redhead mentioned in the notes as anyone other than Hayden. The blood everywhere made sense, because she could totally see them having totally fucked up sex, and she ran upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her so hard that it rocked the entire upstairs door of the haunted hell she was trapped in.
Did it have to be her? Her mom wasn't bad enough, he had to go and be with the girl her dad had ruined all their lives for?
She pressed back against the door for a second, and then she ran into the bathroom and locked herself in with a razor, and the floor ran wet and sticky with blood until her twenty-four hours were up. She left her own note on the chalkboard in her room, knowing Tate would see it.
Not coming back,
Vi