That Witch Bitch

Grunge Girl

After Constance had finished the especially odd origin story of Micheal Langdon.

It turns out his life was similar to yours in one way, you both could kill souls.

Now you understood why Langdon wanted you on his team, (besides the fact that you are smoking hot), it was because you were the only person with the power to end him... for good.

You slouched in the armchair you were seated in, feeling the pressure that rested on your shoulders.

The pressure about having to kill the antichrist.

"I-I was made to raise monsters." Constance stammers, tears were now streaming from her face.

Maddison had given the woman a pack of tissues but the stubborn old lady had refused them because apparently 'She deserved the pain' or something along those lines.

You felt bad for Constance, her history was seriously fucked up.

But then again, you didn't like her that much so you didn't care.

You just felt bad for Tate.

Come to think about it, where was Tate?

"Where do the other ghosts usually hang out?" You ask, not bothering to hide that you were bored of Constance's complaining.

"Oh, erm, I'm not too sure," She replies, sniffing, "Everyone just keeps their distance."

"So we need to do some witchcraft!" Maddison says, she sounded more energetic than she'd been listening to Constance, "I'll get the stuff."

Maddison bustled off, leaving you alone with Constance.

Luckily, when you looked back at Constance, she'd vanished.

You didn't mind.

But you did notice a girl, dressed in a 00s grunge getup.

She was sitting alone in the corner of the room, her eyes vague and distance as they stared at the ongoing traffic outside the window.

It was just one car passing by, the streets were usually quiet.

But just by the look on her face, you knew that she longed to be out there and away from this devilish place.

She was sitting on the floor, hugging her arms to her chest.

"Hey." You say anxiously, you knew she was one of those girls who could just snap at you for no reason.

No answer.

Just that same vacant expression and a cigarette, recently stolen from Constance, it emit a dull glow, illuminating her face like candle light.

"Hello?" You ask again.

It was strange but you thought that certain parts of her reminded you of Micheal.

Maybe they were related somehow.

The girl whipped her head round suddenly, startling you slightly, her piercing eyes absorbing your image.

"Hi," The girl says, her voice relaxing and her face calming, "I'm Violet, Violet Harmon."

She slowly got up, smiling friendly.

It made you feel bad about thinking she was strange. 

She walked beside you and raised her eyebrow.

She was expecting your name.

"Oh," You smirk before mimicking her, "I'm Y/n, Y/n L/n."

Violet rolled her eyes but grinned all the same.

"So," She teases, "What brings you to L.A.'s most haunted house, Murder House."

"Erm," You say, twiddling your thumbs, "We're here about Micheal Langdon."

"Well crap."

Okay! Sorry for being inactive but schools been a lot I guess. I probably won't write often (I'll probs write twice a week maybe)Thanks for always commenting and voting, hope you are enjoying it