Holding On

Chapter 1

"Violet! Please answer the damn phone!" Tate exclaimed, his phone to his ear. It had been twenty minutes. Twenty fucking minutes since the murder house walls went down. All the spirits blasted off in different directions. Tate stood there at the demolished remains of his childhood home, cradling his two day old baby. The baby was wailing loudly and wiggling in the tight blankets. All the ghosts were gone, including the infantata. Tate was dumbfounded on what to do.
"Tessa... Honey... Calm down for daddy." He soothed while placing his phone into his pocket. There was only one place he could go. He started trudging to the neighbor's house. His mother's house. Tate's main focus was getting Tessa to chill, then to find a way to get in contact with Violet. She was the mother of their child and he thought that she'd stay with him to raise her. He went to up the front door and knocked on it. A silhouette of a woman appeared behind the glass and flung open the door.
"Tate!" The old woman cried with glee.
Ew. Tate strongly disliked his mother... However, he had no choice. He had to go to her, for he had no other place to go.
Constance threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Tate rolled his eyes and pulled away. As Tessa's crying continued, a blonde headed little boy peeked out behind Constance, curiosity on his face. That was Tate's son, Michael, aka the antichrist.