𝕭𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖓 ✧ American Horror Story

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔: 𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚟𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗

✧

Buzzing filled the office, causing Joey to reach over and ignore the incoming call during a session. "Sorry about that."

Tate continued to stare at him, and silence filled the room around them for a few moments before he finally decided to speak. "So, what do shrinks talk about when a wildly brilliant patient doesn't talk to punish said psychiatrist? I bet you think about sex."

Another long pause hung in the air, making the room tense. "Do you think about sex a lot?" Joey spoke calmly.

"I think about one girl in particular." Tate nodded, a devilish smirk on his face. "Your daughter... I jerk off thinking about her, a lot."

Joey closed his eyes, growing impatient and irritable with Tate's words, but he did his best to remain calm. "I'm not comfortable with you talking about my daughter, Tate."

Tate sat forward from his seat, "Don't you wanna know what I do to her?" A moment of intense silence passed, a smug look still on his face, continuing to indulge in his fantasies. "How I lay her down on the bed, and I caress her soft skin, make her purr like a little kitten? She gets wet so easily."

Joey stared at Tate darkly, struggling not to snap. He took in a deep breath before speaking. "Do you turn to these thoughts to comfort yourself in times of stress?"

"Actually, yes." Tate retorted, nodding his head. "I jerk off a lot to make the visions go away. The blood... and the carnage. I want the thoughts to go away, and you're not helping me."

"Well, we've only been working together for a few weeks now."

Tate snickered as he reclined back in his chair, returning to his original position, and crossed one leg over the other in a comfortable manner. "Well, you're sexual... right?"

Joey stared at him, feeling the urge to strangle Tate due to his smug face, but he managed to remain calm.

"Ophelia told me about your dead wife's affair."

"Our time is up," Joey snapped.

"Bullshit, I don't accept that."

"Our time is up for today, Tate." Joey replied a bit calmer. Tate stared at him darkly before slowly getting up, grabbing his bag, and walking out of the office.

Joey's phone went off again, and he let out a long sigh as he grabbed it. He stared at a text message that read, "I'm pregnant."

✧

Ophelia sat beside Leah as they both agreed to meet up and discuss what happened in that basement. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. The girl had refused to speak to Tate and Elliot, no matter how hard they tried to reach out. Flashbacks of that creature plagued her thoughts, making her feel like she was going insane. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead cast an eerie glow, reminiscent of the basement. Despite the warm evening air, Ophelia felt a shiver down her spine, haunted by the memories of that unsettling encounter. Restless skaters swirled around them, their wheels grinding against the concrete, adding to the background buzz of chatter and laughter. Both girls' feet dangled on the edge of the skating rink.

Leah let out a shaky sigh, her breath visibly quivering. She reached into her bag, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The tip of her cigarette lit up as she took a deep inhale, the smoke curling around her like a ghostly wisp. Ophelia's gaze shifted to Leah's face, drawn to the bandage covering part of her cheek. Her heart sank, realizing the visible signs of trauma. She was wearing a sun hat paired with some sunglasses, which she assumed were to cover up her scratches.