American Horror Story Murders House Tate นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“I thought if nobody ear there still John Wen should be here in front of gate after all he is security in-charge of the Walton’s mansion.” “I couldn’t able to decide whether or not I should enter, but suddenly I heard few ambiguous noises inside the mansion.” “I hurried my pace and the scene I saw getting the door I felt like somebody rugged swept out from under your feet.” Mark Taylor’s eyes turned red while thinking about the scene and he has deep regrets about this accident which was now capturing his mind. “What did you see?” Mike asked. “Murder of sir Joe Walton.” Thought Alex knew about it, but Mike was definitely oblivious to this truth. His eyes turned big in shock and forehead start

I hurry out of the pack house and yet I'm not ready to see Tate, pressing a hand hard into his side where a huge chunk of his torso is missing. "What the fuck?" I say, horrified. He is not the only one. There are six other wolves, including the woman Tate was fucking who looks way worse than him. And it's not even the worst thing about the scene, their wounds are not healing. I can see his flesh struggling to repair itself and but the gaping wound is unable to close. The front doors are thrown open and Lor strides out, Emma right behind him. My eyes narrow at the both of them, where are they coming from together? Tate grimaces when he sees him.

His jaws were chiseled and he had a face that even the gods would be jealous of, but before the man could even open his mouth to speak. A flying kick landed right in his temple sending him crashing into the ground, Genevieve screamed in horror as she didn’t know what even made Hazel act like this man was some monster from some folklore. “I said get your filthy paws off Lady Genevieve!” Hazel shouted, embracing the much smaller Genevieve in her arms like a mother protecting her child but Hazel’s stern face soon loosened up and contorted into one of fear the moment she realized he wasn’t moving. “Y-You killed him!” Genevieve screamed at Hazel, and they both began freaking out because they knew

“Well, Billy Johnson of 802 Fairmount Street, the big white house with blue shutters and an oak tree out front . . . All you really need to know about me is that I have sharp teeth. Sharp teeth and a taste for blood. Look out for me under your bed. And if I’m not there . . . check under your mother’s!” He leered and cackled, and I felt the skin on the back of my neck crawl then melt in a wave of cold sweat. I watched the rest of the tapes like that, fast forwarding through the movies to see the parts he had filmed. In thirteen episodes, I spotted six girls that were in the files and two that weren’t. The last tape didn’t have a movie listed, only a date.

Just about hours when my mother died, my auntie, who is Polo’s husband, and Rendall’s mother died too. Her body was found near the lake and the lower body was also shattered into pieces. I saw Polo grieve and then go back to hunt the one who killed her wife and he also promised to kill the werewolf that killed my mother. The hunt failed and the werewolves they killed have no idea about what happened. After a week of grieving, I tried to be useful in the house by bringing woods for the fireplace. Polo and Finn are on the beer stalls and Rendall, who has the same age as mine is still sleeping. While gathering the dried branches, I heard a small rustle.

Elle’s POV My heart was beating hard against my chest as I watched him get ready for the plan tonight. “Are you sure no one is going to catch us?” He shook his head. “No. I do this all the time. No one will catch us.” “What? You hunt…for blood?” He nodded. My eyes widened. “Some of those nights when you came into my room, and I was absent,” “You went out to hunt?” I completed and he nodded. I gasped.

I nodded, trying to steady my voice. “Last night was Halloween. Our boss, William Zoo, booked out a rural horror-themed escape room. He said anyone who made it through without screaming would get ten thousand. “There were nine of us. After we went in…” I went through everything—the layout, mechanisms, and performance of the scarecrow character with the oversized pumpkin head. He didn’t move, just listened in silence. “You said the pumpkin-headed character chased you with a chainsaw?” “Yes. It was incredibly loud, just this constant buzzing.”

Even if it were a vampire…it’s not him. Though he’s old enough. And powerful enough. And has been asking me a lot of questions about covens and magic. “What are we going to do?” Evander asks. “First thing,” Tabatha starts, “is issue a curfew. All the murders have been done at night.” Shit. Another reason to suspect a vampire. But then where do the creepy visions, the demon in the woods, and that thing lurking around my house fit into this? I’m certain they’re connected to the witches’ deaths…I just don’t know how.

“She wants to trap your soul here. If you want to live, you have to retrieve the part of the soul you lost! “Go to the bathroom. Lock it! No matter how abandoned the bathroom looks, pretend that it’s normal. Fill the tub with water and lay in it. When noon arrives tomorrow, your soul will return to you. Remember! If you want to live, no matter what you hear and feel, do not leave the tub!” At that moment, I heard something shuffling outside. It sounded like something was trying to crawl in. Before I could ask more about it, something broke through the door. Maggots fell out of the wife’s rotten face. She crawled forward on all fours and left behind a trail of blood. When she saw me, she smil

Caroline took one slow step forward, fangs bared—but Emily didn’t move. Behind her, Evelyn was already moving—fast, low, with the tranq gun she’d grabbed from the bag earlier. One shot. Straight into Caroline’s neck. She roared, spinning, claws slashing through empty air. But her knees buckled. Her monstrous form shuddered, limbs locking up as the serum kicked in. She dropped like a felled tree. The room went still. Everyone stared at the heaving, unconscious body of Dr. Caroline Rhodes—half-wolf, half-woman—sprawled in the center of the room.