Now, even in a place with a reputation like this one didn’t change the fact that Katrina was not easily frightened or even startled. She had been interested in things most weren’t her entire life. The sort of things she had read would have made most people’s stomachs turn or their hearts sink into the pit of their stomachs to fester and be destroyed by the acid there. But not Katrina, she reveled in it all.
This house had been something she had been interested in for years and now that she was able to actually be inside of it - it was surreal. She wasn’t even sure if she truly believed in ghosts. Sure, she may or may not have encountered a few growing up but her family had convinced her that what she had seen before was merely the result of a child’s overactive imagination. When she heard the young man’s voice she quickly turned to face the source of the sound.
If she ever had any doubts before this very moment they were all shattered almost instantly when she saw his face. It had been that was plastered all over every media outlet for years when she was a kid. The boy with the angelic face who had casually strolled into his high school and slaughtered fifteen students following the murder of his own twin sister in this very house. They called him a monster among so many other terrible things - but she always wondered if he had truly been or was he just another lost soul?
Her words were snatched from her for a series of moments before she finally managed to speak, clutching the leather-bound book she had closer against her.
” Uhm - yeah. I was… Ezra or… or Wyatt. ” she stumbled out before realizing he probably didn’t know either of them.
” You’re… Tate Langdon. ” it wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
Katrina knew everything there was to know about this place and those that had died within it. She was never wrong about paranormal sorts of things and her confidence was regained in calling him by his name as if that somehow made this all the more real.
Tate wanted to laugh at how the girl was stumbling over her own words, but all too soon that thought flew right out the window. He had already forgotten who she said she was looking for when she said his name. His face faltered a little before he quickly regained his composure. How did she know who he was? He knew that there was always a chance of someone recognizing him, but it hadn’t happened in a very long time because what he had done was so long ago. He sighed. He really didn’t want to have to kill the girl.
“I’m sorry?” he questioned, his eyebrows furrowed together once again. “I think you’re mistaking me for someone else…my name’s…” he paused for a second, “Ben. I’m here to help make the house look a little more presentable.” he finished, running his fingers along the wall. He smiled slightly at the girl and hoped that she believed him. This was the first time he had felt nervous in quite a while and he wished the girl would just get out. “I don’t think whoever you’re looking for is here. I haven’t seen anyone around.” he said, making his way over to her slowly.
Wendy smiled genuinely, stopping to turn around. The small blonde took a step forward looked at him for a moment, taking in everything. From his dark eyes to his tousled curls to the dimples that appeared when he smiled. Without thinking she brought a hand to his cheek and brushed her fingertips gently across his skin. “Will I get to see you again?” She blurted out in her quiet hum of a voice, dropping her hand quickly. No. Bad. You’re not supposed to put yourself out there because you’ll only get hurt because no one likes you. She scolded herself, wincing a little.
Tate was a little taken back when the girl touched him. He hadn’t had any type of human interaction like that in a long time and it made him realize how much he missed it. His features softened as he looked down at the girl and memorized every feature of her face. “Probably more than you want.” he said softly, a small smile spreading across his face. Yeah, she would be seeing him a lot that he was sure about.
The afternoon was bright, having chased away the dismal storm clouds of a few days ago where the heavens wept upon the ever-bustling City of Lost Angels. With a name like that it was hardly any wonder why so many flocked to this beautiful place - dreams could fuel people to do even the darkest of things to achieve them. The warm rays of the garish sun flowed down onto the soft skin of a slender figure making it’s way through the old rusted gates that led onto the infamous property. This place always radiated an aura of deep sadness, of an evil so heavy that it could choke out the light of someone, of foreboding.
Dead leaves which had been rustled from their last desperate clutch of the branches above crunched under her flats while a gentle, barely-there breeze caressed against her and carrying with it the promise of impending summer. Sapphire pools glancing up towards the house as she got closer to it. The custom imported stained glass windows appeared to her as if they were the eyes of some insatiable beast staring out at the morbidly curious world. Vines were growing up along the sides of the house as if hell itself were trying to grasp at this place and return it to where it belonged.
Katrina had studied every single case that had ever taken place in this house - it was quite literally a house of horrors. Fascinated she was now getting paid for her expertise when she signed on alongside her beloved Wyatt to work on this film. She gave Ezra the dirty little secrets of this place, or at least as much as she knew and in return she would help this film break box office records. But were they afraid of the dark? Was all of her expertise on things that went ‘bump’ in the night going to arm them against the filth and consuming darkness of this place?
Stepping through the cornsilk blonde peeked around the seemingly empty home. She had yet to encounter anything and felt that perhaps all of the eerie stories about ghosts was merely exaggerated.
Tate’s eyebrows furrowed together slightly as he watched a slim blonde make her way through the gates of the so called Murder House. A million questions ran through his mind as he watched her calmly walk along the pathway to the door. Who was she? What was she doing here alone? Did she have some sort of death wish? Although he, of course, wouldn’t let anyone just murder the girl for no reason. In fact, no one would probably even bother her unless it was Hayden. He had to roll his eyes just at the thought of the dark headed girl.
Once he brought his attention back to the ground below the window he was standing at, he noticed that the girl had disappeared. She was in the house, he could feel it. Making his way from the bedroom he stood in and down the back staircase he saw her peeking around the corner. Was she looking for someone? He wasn’t entirely sure if he should say something or if he should just stay hidden. He crossed his arms over one another as he slowly made his way towards her. “Looking for someone?” he questioned aloud, his face scrunched up in what resembled a scowl.
Wendy let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Nah, i’m nothing special. I’m a mess of cliches, Tate. But most people are.” the girl mused, her lips curved into a small smile. She got up from the cold floor, looking around a little. “I like it here, you know? Although I don’t know if I feel particularly safe.” Wendy shrugged, her eyes wondering back to him. “I still totally think you’re dead, you know.” She couldn’t help but smile a little.
Tate disagreed. This Wendy girl was something special, he could already sense it. His eyes followed her as she stood up off the floor and took a look around. “Believe me, you’re safe.” he stated. What he really wanted to say was that no one could hurt her especially since he was here. He would help protect her. A small smile crept onto his face as he let out a short laugh and stood up. “Well, you’re entitled to think whatever you want.” he shrugged as he ran his fingers along the wall.
Wendy narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before nodding slowly. “Right. Sorry for zoning out there, I do that sometimes. People fascinate me sometimes.” The girl shrugged, giving him a small smile. Wendy had always been thought of as ditsy because of this - which was funny because she was kind of the opposite. “And I must say, you’re pretty fascinating.” the blond was grinning now.
Tate raised his eyebrows at the girl as a short laugh escaped his lips. “Me? Interesting? Yeah, I don’t hear that much.” he stated. No, the terms murderer, rapist, and psychopath were more of the words he heard to describe himself, not that he’d ever tell Wendy that. “You’re way more interesting than I am anyhow.” he said with a small smile.
.
Wendy couldn’t help but give him a small smile, pleased that he found her beautiful. “Thank you.” she said softly, before looking at him, really looking for the first time. They say you can’t see an aura unless your looking for it, and Wendy understood that now as she took in the sight of Tate’s energies. It was very dark, compared to most auras she recognized, but more complicated than any she had ever seen except for maybe her own. When she did see a dark aura it was often a very solid black, with the occasional hint of something else. But Tate’s was mixed with purples and blues, which Wendy was convinced was the reason she was so drawn to him. People with such dark auras normally made Wendy nervous, but with Tate it just made her wonder what had hurt him so badly. She wished she had a better understanding of chakras so she would at least have a clue. The blond sat perplexed for a moment, her green eyes fixed on his almost black ones, before she snapped out of it. “What brought you here?” She asked softly, looking at him curiously.
He grinned back at her before they fell silent. The girl was just staring at him or rather through him it looked and it honestly made Tate feel slightly uncomfortable. He furrowed his brows together as he stared at her. He didn’t want to interrupt whatever train of thought she had going so he stayed silent until she finally snapped out of it. “I actually live down the street and I was just snoopin’ around to see who had moved in.” he stated, still trying to play the undead card.
Wendy thought for a moment, thinking of the best way she could explain without giving the poor guy her life story. “I’m running away from my life. I have a scholarship at NYU, but I have this disorder that can only be described as an extreme case of self-loathing…and I just can’t breathe when I think of leaving.” The girl said quietly, letting out a small sigh. “I’d have to find new people that can stand being around me.” She frowned, still terrified by the thought.
Tate listened intently as Wendy tried giving him the short version of her life story and he was very surprised to hear that she had a problem with her self image. “You’re beautiful. I don’t see why you can’t see that.” he stated, but he also got where she was coming from. “I always felt like running away too when I was living with my so called mother…sometimes I wish I could go back and do just that, but I couldn’t because that would mean leaving my brother and sister with her.”
Wendy rolled her eyes. “You’re too cute to be a hobo.” She shrugged. “I’m a hobo, practically.” The girl said matter-of-factly with a nod. Technically, she was a squatter. She had a home and a family, so maybe she was a runaway. She liked to think she didn’t have a home, like in a metaphorical sense. “No one could live down here.” She remarked, giving him another shrug.
“I live down here…it’s really not that bad.” he stated, glancing around the basement. “What brought you here?” he questioned. For some reason, Tate felt this need to get to know this Wendy girl more. There was something about her that he was just so drawn to and he couldn’t explain it. Maybe she slightly reminded him of himself all those years ago before everything fell apart.
Wendy smiled letting out a genuine laugh. She swatted his hand away and muttered something along the lines of him being a jerk before fixing her hair maybe a little too obsessively. “I knew I wasn’t that creative.” she rolled her eyes. “This may sound stupid but are there like…rules?” She asked, her brow furrowing in slight confusion.
“Rules?” he reiterated, his eyebrows raised in question. “What are you implying? I just said I was real…I never said I was a ghost.” he stated with a small smile. “For all you know…” he started, leaning down so his face was close to hers, “I could be a hobo who snuck into your basement and have been living down here for a long time.” he finished, leaning back in the chair again.
