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[ahslunacy-blog]

Case of the missing Evan Peters

Where is Evan?!!! I need him to show up already! We're past episode what, five? And no Evan? He better pop up on Wedneaday or I'm flying to Cali and asking what gives. Seriously I will.

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love: Chapter 6- Preparations

A/N: Hi Guys! Leave me some feedback and tell me what you think!

Lenore woke to the familiar tingle running down her next. Peaking over the comforter that she was cocooned in, she saw a portly woman in a maid's uniform with red hair. She was humming an unrecognizable tune under her breathe as she picked up Lenore's dirty clothes from the floor, where Lenore had left them; too tired to even care where she left it.

"Excuse me?" she said in a soft, still-half asleep voice.

The woman made an "oh!" in slight surprise before turning towards Lenore, where she now sat up in the large queen sized bed, staring at the ghostly woman with confusion, "What are you doing?"

"Good morning madam!" the woman said joyfully, a perky smile on her face, "Mr. March asked me to look after you today. I was simply collecting the laundry, and oh!"

Raising a finger, the woman quickly walked towards the door and opened it. From outside she pulled in a cart with a platter of food on top and a vase of lilies. Pushing back the covers, Lenore rose from the bed and approached the cart.

Hesitantly, Lenore reached out and touched one of the white petals and rubbed it gently between her fingers, "These are beautiful."

The maid held her hands on front of her as she smiled brightly, "Oh yes! Mr. March wanted you to have the very best! The flowers are a gift from Mr. March. My name is Ms. Evers, I'm the laundress here. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to let me know!"

Lenore smiled at Ms. Evers. It was hard not too. Lenore couldn't feel anything very threatening from the maid. She seemed to be happy that she was still around in the hotel, which was curious to her.

"Thank you for bringing me breakfast and for collecting my laundry, Ms. Evers. It's very sweet of you," Lenore complimented.

Ms. Evers waved her hand in dismissal of her comment but a slight look of gratitude flashed across her face for just a moment, "It's my job madam. Please, enjoy your breakfast! I'll return this afternoon before dinner."

With that, Ms. Evers left the room, leaving Lenore alone inside her room. Staring at the flowers, Lenore was unsure of how to feel. Nobody had ever given her flowers before. Yes, she had been in a...relationship; if you wanted to call it that, but he had never done anything like that before.

With a smile, Lenore lifted the vase of flowers and placed it in the window for the sunlight to shine down on the bundle of lilies. Bending down, she breathed in the scent of the flowers as she smiled slightly.

Turning towards the platter of food, she was surprised to see french toast. She loved french toast. Taking the plate from the cart, Lenore sat down at the table that was located in the suite's dining area. As she tucked into the food, she could hear the muffled sound of music playing. Looking up, she peered at the door and couldn't help but wonder if that was what James did here? Did he stay in that room all the time? Did he only haunt this floor? Or the whole hotel?

Shaking her head, Lenore quickly finished her breakfast and took a shower. She wanted to look around the hotel and see if she could get a feel for the building for the paintings Will wanted for the Cortez.

************************************************************************************************

Liz leaned against the bar as their new owner's guest, the sweet looking woman-child with the pretty face, walked up the stairs to the bar. She seemed almost timid. Liz studied her as she walked over to look more closely at the hanging light fixtures from the balcony.

Looking at her outfit, Liz couldn't help but wince in agony. It was a long black skirt and she wore a long-sleeved, forest green shirt that had no business being on a pretty young girl. She wore boots on her feet that were somewhat decent looking.

Sighing, Liz moaned out, "That outfit is atrocious."

Lenore lifted her head from where she had been staring down at the lobby at the sound of Liz's voice. Hearing her comment, Lenore looked over at her hesitantly.

Liz straightened and waved her hand at Lenore, "Don't act as if you don't know! How can you wear that?"

Looking down at her clothes, Lenore momentarily drifted off before looking back at Liz and shrugged.

"Well, I think you would look fabulous if you wore something a little...tighter."

Liz laid an empty martini glass on top of the bar, "Would you like a drink?"

Unsure if she wanted to be served by a man...er...woman who just insulted her, Lenore said, "I don't really drink."

"Nonsense, have a seat. We'll chit chat," Liz said before giving a grin.

Hesitantly, Lenore approached the bar and sat down across from the flamboyant bartender. She poured an amber colored liquid into the glass and pushed it towards her. As she brought the glass to her lips, Lenore was surprised when a familiar taste spread across her taste buds and the same slight burn crept down her throat. She looked down at the glass with slight surprise, which didn't go unnoticed by Liz.

"Mr. March said you seemed to like the brandy he gave you last night," she said as she leaned forward on the bar, "I'm Liz Taylor by the way."

Blinking, Lenore placed the glass down and looked at Liz with mild shock, "Mr. March?"

"Mmm hmm," Liz hummed as she looked at Lenore with curiosity, "Is it true then?"

"Is what true?" Lenore asked softly, unsure if she wanted to answer the question.

"Can you really see ghosts?"

"Umm," Lenore looked down and began to play with the thin neck of the martini glass, trying to avoid Liz's gaze.

"Well!" Liz said impatiently, placing her hands on her hips.

Lenore didn't say anything. She merely looked up at Liz with a void expression as her eyes darted across Liz's face. Staring into the young woman's face, Liz's mouth fell open and she straightened. Pointing at her in amazement, she said, "You can!"

"I didn't say anything," Lenore said, furrowing her eyebrows.

Chuckling, Liz said, "Sweetheart, the look on your face says it all!"

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, Lenore attempted to leave as she pushed the glass towards Liz, "Thank you for the drink."

Waving her hand, Liz said, "Stop. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Look at who you're talking to."

Liz held out her hands as she looked up and down at herself before giving Lenore a smile, "We all have our...unique qualities."

Lenore felt a slight smile emerge as she grew more relaxed. Most people either didn't believe her her or thought she was crazy whenever the topic of ghosts came up. But Liz seemed to act as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Now, Mr. March made it clear that you were to be treated like a queen and so I shall!" Liz declared before making her way around the bar.

Standing next to Lenore, Liz shook her head with a sigh, "Who taught you how to dress?"

Looking down at her outfit, Lenore said, "Nobody."

"That's what I thought," Liz said dryly.

Liz took hold of Lenore's arm and pulled her from the stool gently. She led her towards the stairs that led down to the lobby. Giving Liz an unsure look, Lenore asked, "Where are we going?"

"We're going to have a little girl time and get you ready for your date with Mr. March," Liz said with glee. She was looking forward to dressing up the young woman.

"It's not a date," Lenore said emphatically, her eyes wide with panic.

Looking down at the young woman, Liz couldn't help but chuckle and pat her cheek, "You are so adorable!"

***********************************************************************************************

Sally watched as the transgender pulled the object of March's affection into the elevator from where she stood at the bottom of the stairs. Taking a drag of her moist cigarette, she let out out a bellow of smoke before staring at Iris with a sneer.

"What's so special about her?"

Iris could hear the distain in the addict's voice from where she sat, working on her crossword. Looking up, she stared at Sally with uncertainty, "It doesn't matter. He'll probably end up killing her like he does all the rest."

A wicket grin crossed Sally's face as she titled her head back and looked at Iris, "Maybe I should steal this one."

"You'll do not such thing."

The sound of that Brahman accent caused ice to fill her veins. Twisting sharply, Sally was met with James standing right behind her. He looked at her with firm, angry eyes, "You will stay away from Lenore. Torment other residence if that is what you desire but you will not touch her."

Scoffing, Sally sneered, "And what if I don't?"

Iris watched the exchange with discomfort. She had never met James March before. She had seen him a few times but never talked to him. She felt uneasy as he walked calmly towards Sally. Tilting his head slightly, James asked, "Do you really want to try me, Sally?"

Sally merely smirked at him.

"Do you remember the last time you defied me?" he asked coldly.

The smirk fell from her face as the memory of her demon flashed in her mind. Glaring at him with hate, Sally said, "It'll never last! She'll see the monster you really are eventually. Then where will you be?"

"I suppose you'll never know, will you Sally? No. I think you best return to your room, don't you?"

She heard the warning in his voice and by the way his eyebrow hitched slightly. Saying nothing, Sally disappeared, leaving Iris alone in the lobby with James. Seeing the older woman, James gave a polite nod, "Good afternoon!" before he too disappeared into thin air.

**********************************************************************************************

"Oh that is perfect!"

Liz gushed as Lenore emerged from her bathroom. It had been a few hours and Liz had spent the afternoon shopping with the timid artist. With a budget from Mr. March of course. She didn't know how a ghost could have money but Liz didn't ask. Not when she was allowed to spend a little of it on herself as a reward for her efforts on Lenore.

Lenore stood uncomfortably rigid as she tugged slightly on the dress. It was a deep blue and was snug but not skin tight. Though to her, it might as well be. She wasn't used to showing her figure. Not with the marks on her body.

"I cant wear this..." she trailed off.

"Why not? You look stunning!" Liz questioned harshly.

Looking up at Liz, Lenore swallowed the lump in her throat before revealing her arms that she had been holding against her sides. Liz gasped at the sight. Thin scars ran up and down her arms. They varied in length and some were more prominent than others.

Reaching out, Liz touched one and asked gently, "What happened?"

Blinking the burning behind her eyes, Lenore pulled away from Liz and sat down on her bed. Twisting her fingers, she began to explain, "It used to be much worse when I was younger. Seeing ghosts. My mom, she never believed me when I told her I could see them. She thought, well, thinks, I'm crazy."

Liz sat down next to her and remained silent as she continued, "She sent me to this mental hospital. They drugged me up and it was just...horrible. I started cutting a few months after I got there. I was always able to get something to cut myself. My brother found out when he came to visit after able a year and he helped me stop. But..."

"Why did you do it?" Liz asked gently.

Biting her lip, Lenore hesitated before saying, "It was something I could control, I suppose. I was stupid to think that."

Liz patted her hand and said, "You're still beautiful."

Lenore looked down at her lap and was silent. No satisfied with this, Liz reached out and tilted her chin up to make Lenore look at her, "You are."

"Thank you," Lenore said softly.

Rising from the bed, Liz said, "Well, let's find you something with long sleeves then, shall we?"

Giving her a grateful smile, Lenore stood and nodded, "Thank you."

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love: Chapter 5 - Death Upon Her Eyes

A/N:New Chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Lenore looked around the dimly lit room, the only source of light coming from the sunlight that peeked through the curtains. Music was playing softly as she sat on the couch. She jumped slightly when a glass appeared on front of her face.

Looking up she saw the man, James March, standing above her with a slight smile on his face. She took it with both her hands and cradled it on her lap. James took a seat across from her, crossing one leg over the other as he stared at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

He licked his lips before saying, "Please, take a drink. It'll calm you do."

Hesitantly, Lenore brought the glass up to her lips and she could smell the alcohol in the drink. She took a small sip and was surprised at how good it tasted despite the slight burn that slid down her throat.

"T-thank you," she said softly.

A silence fell between them. The only sound being the sound of the music playing in the background. Lenore was nervous. Not because she was in a stranger's room but the fact that the stranger was a ghost. She had never been comfortable with ghosts of adults. Children were easier to deal with for. Ghosts that had been grown in their living forms seemed to be more violent than children.

Suddenly, James raised his glass and began to recite, "For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies, the life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes, the life still there, upon her hair- the death upon her eyes."

Blinking, Lenore stared at him before a small smile emerged on her lips. James' own smile grew and he said, "You know the reference?"

She nodded silently, " It's from Poe's Lenore.”

He seemed surprised that she would know the poem, "Are you an admirer of poetry then? Not many enjoy the classics these days."

Lenore turned the glass between her hands, "I suppose. I've always liked the Gothic and Romantics best."

His eyes brightened and he leaned forward, "Quite dark my dear."

She shyly looked down at her glass.

"What is your favorite if I may ask?" James sat back against the coach and took another sip of his drink, staring at her as she thought on his question.

He raised a brow as she said, "The Cask of Amontillado by Poe."

"Really?" he asked, intrigued, "Do you enjoy stories of revenge then?"

She shook her head and looked up from her glass, "I like stories with meaningful deaths I guess."

In James' mind, he thought that perhaps there was a darkness in Lenore after all. But her aura, oh her aura was so bright! Not a stain was on her soul. She was still as she appeared in her picture he saw those five years ago. Innocent and Pure.

*********************************************************************************************

"Damn it! Who is interrupting us? I'll break the finger who dared ring that bell!"

It had been his night with Elizabeth. The night he yearned for every month. Elizabeth had been quick to rise from her seat and made her way to the door and pulled it open quickly to find her paramour, Donovan, standing on the other side.

From where he sat at the long table, James screamed, "I get one night! One night with her the whole month!"

But suddenly he was more intrigued than angry. Entering the room was John Lowe. From the moment he saw that man he knew. He was the one who would finish his work. It was his aura. It was dark. As dark as his own tar black soul.

"Who is that with you?" he had asked.

John had walked further into the room, clearly drunk. He looked from Elizabeth to James, asking, "What is this, a....costume party?"

From behind him, Donovan said, "This is John. He's a detective, and he's had the kind of day that makes a man want to drink himself to death."

"Really?" James asked from where he sat at the table.

As he rose to his feet, Elizabeth approached John, "Jimmy loves to hear about the bad days. I'm the Countess."

Being cheeky, John asked, "The countess of what?"

"With those blue eyes, I'll be the countess of whatever you want baby," she had replied, staring at him with a sultry smile.

James stood closer to John now. Intrigued with the detective, he asked, "Tell me John, was someone killed? Did you have to discharge your revolver?"

"No," John said calmly as he walked further into the room, "But people died. Five of them children. And their father shot himself in the head because of it. Brains are still hanging off the ceiling"

"You speak about this with such calm indifference, as if life and death have no meaning to you." James said, studying the man who stood next the the long table.

John looked over at him and said, " I'm a homicide detective. What I know is that death is the only thing in life that has any meaning."

James' eyes lit up and a smile came to his face. From then on he knew. He had finally found his apprentice.

After dismissing Elizabeth and Donovan, James had fetched a glass of absinthe for the two of them. As he poured the absinthe, he began to explain, " Some time ago, we had a guest here at the Cortez named Kirlian. A photographer. He claimed to be able to use electricity to photograph a man's aura. I became fascinated by these auras. Over time, I began to be able to see a man's aura the moment I met him."

Turning to the table where John now sat, James said, " The moment you walked into my suite, I was struck by the intensity of your aura."

Siting across from the detective, James leaned on the table, "See most folks radiate red or blue. Purple if they're quite mystical."

"But yours," James said as he pointed at John, "was jet black. Black as the ace of spades, as they say."

"What does that mean?" John asked, cradling his drink.

"Two schools of thought," James explained, " One is that you have a protective cloak around you. It allows you to focus on any task at hand regardless of the other's judgement. The other is that you have a need to dominate,"

John's hands clinched atop the table as James continued, " and control the world around you. Bend it to your will. That is a man who is willing to do bad to do good."

Smirking drunkenly at James, John murmured, "You are full of shit."

"And you are full of rage," James retorted calmly as he watched John down the glass of absinthe.

"Dangerous to keep it all inside, John. It will give you the cancer if you don't let it out sometimes," James said as he studied John.

" Tell me, have you ever roughed up a suspect a bit? "

This comment made John chuckle as he began to squirm in his seat, " Put him in handcuffs and then forgotten to read him his rights and then just given him some good old-fashion justice right there on the spot?"

"You think I don't want to?" John asked, looking over at James.

"I feel your constant battle to keep it in check," James said bluntly.

John looked down at the table as a memory began to bubble up from the back of his brain. A memory he wanted to forget more than the sights he had witnessed in that house with the dead children and the father who shot his own brains out.

"I once walked in on a 273D--domestic dispute in progress," he began as James rose to his feet to refill their glasses.

"It took everything I had not to....pound this guy's face , make him swallow his own teeth and blood." John snarled as his hands turned into fists as the memory grew stronger.

Looking up, John said, "It was my own sister."

James turned around and looked at him carefully as he handed John the glass and sat back down, "Your sister?"

John nodded and for whatever reason, pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to the picture he kept of his baby sister. He extended the wallet out to James, who took it and peered down at her face. She was smiling shyly and her eyes were soft. The picture had been taken just after she had been released from the mental hospital.

"I had gone to check on her. I hadn't heard from her in a few days and got worried," John stopped to take a drink.

James stared down at the image of Lenore and ran a finger over her face as his eyes widened slightly and his breath caught in his throat.

"What is her name?" he asked. He tried to sound casual, but he had never wanted to know a woman's name as much as he wanted her's.

"Lenore," John said with a drunken smile that turned into a snarl, "She didn't deserve what he did."

"And what happened?" James asked, forcing himself to look back at John, "What occurred that day?"

"The bastard was beating her. Treating her like she was some goddamn animal! It took everything in me, everything to not kill him on the spot. She wouldn't tell me but I knew it hadn't been the first time."

"His name?" James asked, voice cold and eyes dark.

John looked up at James from the table where he was envisioning his fantasy of killing the bastard who had hurt his sister.

"  Daniel Claymore."

John said the name with distain and disgust before downing his glass.

"Don't tell anyone though, that I wanted to do that?" John said to James, who looked at him with confusion.

"Why not? He would deserve it. You would have been doing your job!"

Scoffing, John said, "My job is to arrest them. Even if they do hurt my own sister."

Tilting his head, James lifted a brow as he asked, "And how does that make you feel? When you collar a man, as opposed to letting your fists be jury and judge?"

"If it was up to me?" John said, staring at James, "I don't need a judge to tell me whether someone's guilty or not. I know. "

"I believe you, John," James encouraged.

" If they took the leash off me, crime would drop in this city," John continued.

"I truly do," James said softly.

They had drank the absinthe. They had talked for two straight days. They talked about the law, man's law...God's law....and about the meaning of true purpose and the meaningless of everything else.

After those two days, James had summoned Elizabeth to him to put his plan into action. Yes, John was important to his work, to his art. But more importantly, John had brought him a new purpose.

That purpose was Lenore Lowe, the girl with a pure, innocent soul that James Patrick March knew belonged to him.

*********************************************************************************************

"Mr. March?"

The sound of her voice broke him out of his memoriam. He gave a charming smile and rose to his feet when he noticed her standing.

"Going so soon?" he asked, disappointed.

She extended the glass to him, "I think I'm alright now."

He took the glass and returned it to the bar of his suite, taking his time as he spoke, "You know, Ms. Lowe, that there is something quite rare about you that I find fascinating."

At the sound of her name, her back straightened. She hadn't told him her name. She watched him as he turned back to her and began to grow closer to her. Swallowing, she clenched her fingers in her dress.

"Would you like to know what that is?" he asked.

Hesitantly, she cleared her throat, "W-what is it?"

A curious look came over his face and he pocketed his hands in his slacks, "You haven't said a word pertaining to me being an apparition. Why is that my dear?"

He knew? Blinking, she released her hold on the material between her fingers and looked at him unsurely, "I'm sorry?"

"It's alright, there's no reason to be afraid dear girl, I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured her.

"How did you know I could-" she began only to be cut off when he raised a finger.

"What is important, Ms. Lowe, is that you have nothing to be afraid of in my hotel. You will not be harmed by any of the ghostly residence during your stay at the Cortez. You have my word."

He reached down and pulled her hand up to press a firm kiss on the back of her hand, " Perhaps you would do me the pleasure of your company again tomorrow night for dinner?"

She opened her mouth to decline, uncomfortable with the idea of spending time with a ghost, but it seemed James saw it coming. He placed a hand on the small of her back and pushed her towards the door. A shiver went up her spine when she felt his hands there.

"Splendid! I shall send someone to fetch you at 7? Wonderful!"

Pushing her gently out the door, James stood in the doorway as she turned around to face him  from the hall. Giving a charming smile, he said, "Pleasant dreams, Ms. Lowe," before shutting the door, leaving Lenore in the hall alone.

With no other choice, Lenore turned around and reentered her room. When the door was closed, she covered her face with her hands and slid down against the door until she sat on the floor. What was she going to do?

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love: Chapter 4 - There’s A Ghost

There's a ghost

She's wearing my face

At parties being introduced with my name

Just a skeleton of bones, wearing nothing but clothes

and she is paralyzing

- "There's a Ghost" by Fleurie

Lenore sat in on the other side of Lachlan as they drove towards the hotel. She had been silent for the majority of the ride, occasionally answering a question of Lachlan's. The silence must have made him uncomfortable because he suddenly blurted out, "My dad's gay."

Will's head snapped in the direction of his son before giving an uncomfortable smile, "Lachlan, I'm sure Lenore isn't interested in that."

Lenore reached up and held the back of her hand to her lips to hide a smile before looking at Lachlan, "That's...good to know."

"Does it bother you?" the boy asked, making her frown.

"It bothers some people," Lachlan continued, looking down at the ball he had pulled out of his pocket.

Looking over at Will, Lenore could see how uncomfortable he was at the sudden mention of his sexuality but if Lenore was honest, it never made a difference to her. She didn't see why people made such a big deal out of who a person fell in love with. You can't control who you fall in love with. Though she really wasn't an expert. She had never been in love before.

Clearing her throat, she said, "No, it doesn't bother me."

Looking up at her, he gave a small smile and a nod, "Good."

As Lenore looked up, Will caught her eye and he mouthed the words, "thank you" silently. She gave a soft smile before looking out the window.

Soon enough they arrived at the hotel. Stepping out, Lenore went to unpack her things but Will stopped her, "Leave it, we'll send someone to get your things."

"Are you sure?" she asked, somewhat uncomfortable with making someone else carry her things.

He reached out and ushered her towards the hotel. As she grew closer to the tall building, Lenore saw a short, somewhat portly woman approach them. She wore a blue dress suit and her hair was blonde and near perfectly arranged on the top of her head. She practically screamed realtor.

Lenore didn't like her at all.

"The rain may have stopped, but it's still a gloomy day," the woman said, escorting them towards the entrance of the hotel, "I had to put my dog down."

Lenore stared at the back of her head and arched an eyebrow slightly before sharing a look with Will, who seemed just as irked by this comment as she was.

"He came to me under....unusual circumstances but you don't need to hear about that," she continued, "right this way!"

Lenore thanked Will as he held the door open for her. It was glass with golden inlays that resembled sun rays. He gave her a smile as she walked in front of him, behind the realtor. Her name turned out to be Marcy.

"So many of these old buildings around here are time capsules, locked away by an impersonal bank trust," Marcy commented as she placed her umbrella in the caddy near the entrance.

Will looked around the hotel's lobby as he walked with confidence, "I prefer dealing with a trust. Anonymous, Unsentimental."

Lenore stood back as Will spoke with Marcy. Lachlan ran ahead, playing with the small bouncy ball he had in his hand. A small smile emerged on her face as she looked up at the light fixtures. They were beautiful. Turning on her heels, she saw a bar area on the second floor that overlooked the lobby.

She stopped on a dime as she was met with a pair of striking dark, brown eyes staring down at her. A glimpse is all she caught of him. He had been smiling down at her and had lifted his glass in greeting before she heard her name being called.

Turning, she saw Will waving her over. Looking back up, Lenore saw that the man was gone. But he wasn't a man. For as long as she could remember, Lenore had seen and heard the voices of the dead. She just...knew if someone was dead. It was like there was this feeling came over her and it sent off warning bells in her head. When she saw the man standing above her, those warning bells had started ringing.

Turing around, Lenore saw an older woman approaching Will and Marcy. Lachlan came running over and leaned against his father. The woman had short, gray hair and had a pair of large, round glasses on her face.

"Can I help you?" she asked, a frown on her face.

Lenore fiddled with the bottom of the sleeve of her cardigan as she sensed some agitation from the woman as she looked at Marcy with contempt.

Marcy turned to the woman and said, "I'm the realtor representing the sale. We're here for the walk through. We'll let you know if we need anything."

From behind the reception area a man...well a woman, with a bald head and lavish makeup looked on, remained silent as the older woman said, "Sale? What sale?"

"I know it was a whisper listing but surely," Marcy began, looking at the two employees with some irritation, "surely the owner should have told you."

The older woman put a hand on her hip as she said, "Nobody tells me shit. I haven't even met the owner!"

"Well you have now dear," Marcy said, holding out her hand towards Will, "This is the new owner, Mr. Will Drake."

From that moment, Marcy ignored the woman and turned to Will. Lenore felt bad for them and somewhat invasive. She gave them an apologetic look before she felt her arm being pulled i the direction of the elevator and heard Will mumble, "Let's go Lenore."

"Sorry," she muttered as she turned forward and followed Will on to the elevator.

As they rode up the elevator, Lenore continued to admire the interior of the hotel as she looked through the clear doors of the elevator.

"I don't have to go with you Mr. Drake," Lenore said as they stood in silence, "I don't want to be a bother."

Will looked down at her and said, "It's not a problem and call me Will. Have you ever thought about going into fashion?"

Taken aback by the question, Lenore looked down at her feet and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "Um, no."

"You have beautiful bone structure and your skin is flawless," Will complimented, making her blush.

"Your sense of fashion on the other hand....you shouldn't hide under those frumpy cardigans," he said, making the blush deepen with embarrassment.

The elevator door opened and Lenore quickly stepped off to try and evade anymore talk of fashion and her clothes. The penthouse was large and had long, thick red curtains that covered the windows.

Lenore stood to the side as Marcy guided Will and Lachlan further into the room, walking around the large, circular couch towards the covered window. Marcy headed straight for the curtains and pushed them open, allowing the bright sunlight to enter the room.

"The clouds of cleared! Sight lines all the way to the Pacific-" Marcy described only to be interrupted by a growling male voice, "Close it! The light!"

Confused, Lenore watched as Will pulled out a cap and covered Lachlan's face just as a man with dark brown hair sat up on the couch, shielding his face with his hand, "Who the hell are you people?"

Lenore gasped and her hands flew to her mouth as the man stood and was met with the sight of his naked ass. The man turned at her gasp and her face grew hot when she saw all of him. She turned around to stare at the wall and heard a slight chuckle before hearing the man say to the others, "What are you doing in my room?"

******

The smell hit her before Elizabeth saw the timid, young woman enter the room. Donovan had come barreling in in only his underwear and a silk robe that showed all to see his physique. She had not expected Will Drake to arrive with a woman.

Ignoring Donovan, Elizabeth turned on her heels as she grasped two tumblers in her hands.

"Will Drake, I'm so pleased!"

The man in question looked at Elizabeth as she made her way towards him, "I was incredibly impressed with the gown you made for Mrs. Obama, it was for the state dinner for the-"

"Yes, kind of you to mention," Will said with a slight smile.

Elizabeth extended one of the glasses for him to take but he shook his head and held up a hand, "I'm on a cleanse."

Grinning, Elizabeth said ,"Not anymore."

Letting out an airy chuckle, Will took the drink reluctantly and saluted Elizabeth before taking a sip.

Elizabeth's eyes darted over to the unknown woman. She couldn't help but let a sultry smile emerge as she walked towards her, "And you? What's your name?"

Lenore felt uneasy under the Elizabeth's gaze and looked down at her hands, "L-Lenore."

Chuckling slightly, Elizabeth reached out and lifted Lenore's chin to better look at her face. Her eyes drank in Lenore's flawless skin and the smell of her blood was like nothing Elizabeth had ever encountered. It was sweet and if she dare say, alluring.

"You're a shy one, aren't you?" she asked.

Donovan watched on with curiosity as Elizabeth seemed to gravitate towards the young woman. He thought the girl was a bit frumpy looking and resembled a dog that had been kicked one too many times. But he knew there was something more. There was something about her blood. He could smell it and wanted nothing more than to cut open her pretty throat and drink her dry. Perhaps Elizabeth was thinking the same thing.

It was the sound of Will scolding Lachlan that broke Elizabeth out of her trance, "-honestly, fingerprints are really hard to get off."

Lenore took this opportunity to step away, something Donovan caught as he watched on. As Will noticed a piece of Elizabeth's art collection and Elizabeth spoke with the fashion designer, who spoke something about energy and New York, Donovan approached the young woman as she attempted to make herself small and unnoticeable in a corner of the room.

"I'm Donovan," he whispered in her ear, causing her to jump and turn around quickly.

She brushed against his bare chest and she took a step back, gasping slightly in a way that made her innocently adorable.

Lenore was confused as to why the man who had just stormed into the room, full of anger at the idea of Will taking over the hotel, would suddenly talk to her so calmly. Unsure of what to say, she hesitantly said, "I'm sorry."

Donovan looked down at her with uncertainty, "For what?"

She lifted her large, round eyes at him and said, "About the hotel, I don't think Will knew everything."

Ignoring her comments, Donovan placed his hands on his hips, splaying out his torso more promptly for Lenore to see. He smirked arrogantly as he saw her cheeks grow more rosie as she averted her eyes.

"What do you do for Will Drake exactly?" he asked, wanting to know more about the man who had shanghaied them.

She bit her lip and for some reason his eyes darted down at them and noticed how full and soft they looked. Shaking his head, he listened as she said, "He hired me."

Not satisfied with the simple answer, he rolled his eyes, "To do what exactly?"

"He wants me to paint something for the hotel," she explained further, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing eye.

"So you're an artist," Donovan said dryly before snorting and walking away from Lenore, making her feel all the more uncomfortable after his rude departure.

She watched as Donovan approached Elizabeth and Will once again and after Will finished speaking of his disappointment with New York, Donovan snided, "And where are weirdos like us suppose to live? Hear any songs about that?"

Elizabeth, without looking away from Will, asked, "Perhaps you could show our neighbors the James Turrell light sculpture."

Donovan looked over at Elizabeth strangely but did as she asked, leading them out of the room except for Lachlan who stayed behind with Elizabeth.

As Lenore walked next to Will, she heard Elizabeth call out, "I look forward to getting to know you better, Lenore. Enjoy your stay."

Lenore refused to say another word, wanting nothing more than to distance herself from the woman who made the warning bells ring loudly in her head. She wasn't dead, nor was Donovan who also made her feel that familiar feeling. But there was something....inhuman, about them.

After the uncomfortable tour from Donovan, Lenore managed to get away by claiming she was getting a headache and needed to rest. She was given room 77 on the seventh floor, a suite much to her surprise.

It was large with a living area and a bedroom. A bathroom was connected to the bedroom, where Lenore quickly unpacked her few belongings. One of the few luxuries she allowed herself was her record player. John had laughed when she had bought it, saying she should just get an iphone. Lenore preferred the sound that came from the record player though, and didn't want to rely on a piece of technology.

She set it on top of one of the side tables beside the couch and stacked her records on the shelf beneath it. Lenore put on one of the records and began to hum under her breathe as she stood. As she turned towards the door, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and the bells started ringing loudly.

Frozen, she remained where she stood as she swallowed the lump in her throat. This one was dark. So much darker than she had experienced before. It was verile and sexual and evil. She let out a scream as she felt fingers tangle in her hair and pull.

Her hands reached up and she felt something cold and slimy as she managed to pull away. Turning around her eyes widened at the sight of a tall, wiry figure standing in the middle of her room. It had no eyes nor a mouth but it had a crude dril-bit where its genitals should be and it resembled an erect penis. She jumped backwards as the creature extended its hands and let out a screech as it began to walk towards her.

A look of disgust and fear marked her face as she walked backwards. Her back slammed against the door and she frantically reached down towards the doorknob and yanked it open as she flew out of the room.

She screamed when she felt something wrap around her waist and she began to push against it, "Let me go, let me go!"

"Oh my," a voice brushed against her ear, "your hearts beating like a hummingbird, my dear."

She looked up to see a familiar pair of striking brown eyes and stared at the face of a young man who stared down at her with an unrecognizable expression.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with concerned.

Her chest rose and fell quickly as she tried to calm herself. Looking back into her room, she saw that the creature was gone.

"There was-there was a....thing, and-" she stumbled over her words as the man loosened his grip, but by no means did he let her go.

He nodded as she struggled to talk and breath at the same time, "Let's get you something to drink, you look like you need one."

"No, that-" Lenore began but found herself being pulled across the hall into room 78.

"Please, I insist," the man said.

As she stepped into the room, the man said, "I'm James March by the way, I own the hotel. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lenore caught the strange Brahmin accent that filled his voice as he asked, "May I have your name?"

He extended his hand and for a moment, Lenore hesitated. She knew that this man was a ghost, she recognized him from the lobby. However, she much preferred a human ghost to a strange sex demon.

She slid her fingers across his cool skin and was surprised when his own wrapped around her hand and lifted it to his lips. His lips were surprisingly warm as he pressed his lips against the back of her hand.

Blushing, she pulled her hand away as James pushed the door closed, "Now, about that drink."

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love: Chapter 3 - Lies and Patrons

Sarah sat on her bed, biting her nails as her feet bounced up and down as the dean stood above her in silence. In his hand was a small bag filled with white powder. Sighing, the dean looked down at her, "You're sure this is Ms. Lowe's?"

Swallowing, Sarah nodded, "Yes Dean Marshall. I've been suspecting Lenore of doing drugs; she's so...strange sometimes. I found it in her drawer when I went to borrow a shirt. I thought you should know right away."

"You did the right thing, Ms. Engels," the dean said just as the doorknob jiggled and opened to reveal Lenore.

Jumping to her feet, Sarah stood as Lenore walked in. She felt guilty as Lenore gave her a small small, "Hey, I was won-der-ing...."

Trailing off, Lenore stared at the dean in surprise.

Dean Marshall turned to Lenore and held up the bag, "Care to explain what this is Ms. Lowe?"

Blinking in confusion, Lenore stared at the bag and shook her head, "I don't know what that is, sir."

Raising a brow, he asked, "So this isn't your bag of cocaine?"

Her mouth fell open as she shook her head venomously, "Absolutely not! I don't do drugs!"

Dropping the bag to his side, Dean Marshall said, "Until we can clear this up, I'm going to have to suspend your attendance at this university."

Gasping, Lenore looked over at Sarah, "Tell him he's wrong! You know I don't do drugs Sarah!"

But Sarah looked down at her hands and remained silent. Lenore stared at her, an ill feeling overcoming her as her friend didn't say a word, "Sarah?"

"I'll allow you to pack your things but you must be off the premises by morning," the dean said before leaving the dorm room.

As the door closed behind him, Lenore scoffed and sat on her bed, her eyes darting across the floor. Sarah hesitantly stepped towards her, stuttering slightly as she said, "Y-you really shouldn't be doing drugs, Lenore."

Lenore's head shot up and she stared at her roommate in disbelief, "I don't! You know I don't! We've been roommates for two years, when have you ever seen me?!"

Sarah turned away and crossed her arms, "Well it certainly isn't mine!"

Jumping to her feet, Lenore stared at the back of her head as she hissed, "So you just call the dean without talking to me first?!"

When Sarah didn't say anything, Lenore shook her head and bent down to pull out her suitcase from under her bed and snapped it open after lifting on top of her bed. She began stuffing the suitcase with clothes as her eyes began to burn.

She didn't know if it was the fact she was being kicked out or the fact that it was someone she considered a friend was blaming her for the cocaine and not standing up for her. Lenore didn't have many friends. Actually she didn't have any other than Sarah. But she supposed that was never true apparently.

Sarah looked over at her and saw the tears in Lenore's eyes and felt her chest tighten. She didn't want to do this but she had no choice! If she didn't do this then that man would kill her! What was she suppose to do?

"Don't cry Lennie!" she begged, taking a step towards her.

Lenore looked at her sharply, "Don't call me that!"

Taken aback, Sarah's mouth flopped open and closed, unsure of what to say. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the card she had been given. Holding it out, she jumped when Lenore snatched it from her hand.

"The Cortez?" Lenore asked

"Uh, yeah, you're gonna need a place to stay right? It's cheap and close to the university," she said, attempting to sell the hotel to her.

Lenore snorted, "Yeah? Well apparently I'm not attending school at the moment, so that's kind of pointless."

"It's art deco!" Sarah suddenly said, "Don't you like that artsy stuff?"

Rolling her eyes, Lenore shut her suitcase and began filling her backpack with her books and art supplies. She stacked a couple of various sized drawing pads on top of the bed near the suitcase before sighing.

Turning to Sarah, she said, "I thought you were my friend."

Sarah couldn't say anything. Looking away, she sat down on her bed and remained silent as Lenore continued to pack. In less than an hour, Lenore was done and without a word, carried her belongings with her as she slammed the door behind her.

Sarah let out a sob as soon as the door was closed and fell backwards on her bed before pulling her knees to her chest and cried.

Outside, Lenore's cell phone rang causing her to stop and pull it from her bag. Looking down she saw Professor Warren's number flash across the screen. Curious, she answered, "Hello?"

"Lenore! I was wondering if you could come by the studio...."

********

"A student painted this?"

Will Drake turned to his old friend, Brent Warren, who nodded. Lachlan stood beside him, staring at the painting with interest before looking up at him, "I like it."

Will placed a hand on his son's shoulder, "I do to. It's very....impressionistic. Something haunting about it."

Will Drake had been searching for inspiration for a long time. It was the reason why he had moved to L.A. New York didn't have that energy anymore that he craved. The music had long died out for him there. He needed a muse and he thought...maybe I've found it.

"Lenore!"

Coming out of his thoughts, Will turned and saw a small woman standing in the door. He couldn't help but frown at what she wore. It was very...vintage and did nothing for her figure. It was almost frumpy. But she had a pretty face and smooth, near flawless skin with large brown eyes that were somewhat weary and sad. Her hair fell down her back in straight tendrils which she pushed behind her ear as Brent walked towards her happily.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Brent said, bending down to plant a kiss on her cheek.

Taken aback, Lenore pulled away just Brent's lips touched her cheek, "You said it was urgent."

Looking over to Will, Brent said, "Yes, this is Will Drake. He's an old college friend of mine as well as an amazing fashion designer. He's interested in your painting that you showed me yesterday."

Surprised, Lenore looked up at her former professor, "That quickly?"

Will put on a smile and extended his hand as he continued to look at her, "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Lowe. And yes, I am interested in the painting. It's stunning, really."

Blushing, Lenore took his much larger hand and shook it, "T-thank you Mr. Drake."

"How much were you looking to sell for?" he asked, straight to the point.

Stunned, Lenore was lost at what to say. She had never sold a piece of art before. Will looked over at Brent when he saw her confusion before turning back to her, "Say $5,000?"

Eyes wide, she shook her head, "Oh no! That's too much! It really didn't take me that long and the material isn't that expensive."

Will couldn't help but smile. It was clear she wasn't business savvy by the way she was spewing out the truth. Most of the artist he met overpriced their work. He thought it was endearing.

"$3,000?" he asked, lowering the price.

She bit her lip and shook her head. He crossed his arms and said, "You've never sold anything before, have you?"

She looked up at him and winced, "It's that obvious?"

"Transparent!" he chuckled.

She let out an airy laugh before shrugging, "I'm not sure what to ask for."

Will nodded, "Alright then. I'll offer you $2,000 and not a penny less. It's a good offer, you should take it."

Lenore looked over at Brent, who nodded encouragingly. Turning back to Will, she nodded, "Okay."

Will clasped his hands, "Wonderful!"

Turning back to the painting, he said, "I'm thinking about hanging it in my new hotel here in L.A. I think it'll go perfectly in the penthouse suite."

Brent placed his hands in his pockets as he approached Lenore, "Will's just bought an old hotel, the Cortez. He's planning on bringing his work out here from New York."

At hearing the name of the hotel, Lenore was surprised, "The Cortez?"

Will looked at her, "Yes, it's very art deco, though I'm thinking of doing a bit of renovation. Have you been there?"

She shook her head, "No, but I may be."

Lenore looked at Brent and said, "I've been suspended."

Surprised, Brent's mouth fell open, "What? Why?"

She felt the familiar burn itch behind her eyes as she blinked the tears away, "It's ridiculous! My roommate called the dean and said I had drugs! But it's not true Professor Warren! I swear! I've never done drugs, ever!"

Brent reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders, "It'll be alright Lenore. I'm sure this will blow over. Besides, didn't you decide to leave school? Maybe this is a blessing in disguise?"

Lenore shook her head, "I do want to leave school, but not like this! I don't want it to be based on a lie."

Lachlan looked up at his father and said, "She can stay at the hotel, with us."

Will smiled at his son and nodded, "Yes, we'd be happy to have you stay at the Cortez."

Lenore shook her head, "I don't...I can't afford it."

Rubbing his chin, Will thought for a moment before saying, "Don't worry about the money. We'll think of some arrangement."

Shaking her head, she said, "I can't do that!"

"Patrons allowed artists to live with them all the time during the Renaissance," Will explained.

He didn't know why but he felt inspiration when he looked at her painting and somehow thought that if she continued to paint, maybe he could break out of his own dry spell.

Lenore couldn't help but laugh lightly, "This isn't the Renaissance, Mr. Drake. I don't want charity."

Holding out his arms, he said, "Don't consider it charity, consider it working for your room and board. I'll even pay you."

Biting her lip, Lenore considered his offer. It seemed too good to be true and somewhat odd since this was the third time she had heard of the Cortez.First from Alex, then from Sarah, and now she was talking to the new owner of the hotel.

But she needed a place to stay. She knew she couldn't go to Alex, she wouldn't want her in the same house all day with Scarlett. Her brother was at the Cortez so she wouldn't be alone, but he would probably be angry with her after he learned what had happened.

Finally she nodded and said, "Alright, thank you Mr. Drake."

Smiling, the fashion designer said, "Please, call me Will."

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love: Chapter 2 - Changes

Sarah Engels was drunk. Stumbling in her heels she giggled as she grabbed the wall of the hotel. Behind her a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her against a firm chest and then a pair of warm, soft lips wrapped around her ear, making her shiver.

Reaching up she wrapped her arm around the neck of Chris Redford, a fellow student from her World Lit class. They had gone to a party being held on on a floor below them and quickly began sucking face after a few drinks.

Now they were heading to a room of their own to have very very very good sex. Chris stopped them and chuckled as she stumbled into the wall. Pulling out the key he had been given by the old woman downstairs with large glasses on her face, he quickly unlocked the door. She had given them a look of disgust as they played tonsil hockey in front of her.

Pushing into room 64, Chris quickly kicked the door shut and pulled her close, "Come here."

A mix between a gasp and a laugh escaped her mouth as Chris lifted her from the ground and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kicking off her heels as he carried her towards the bed.

"Do you have a condom?" she slurred before licking his neck.

Groaning, he pulled back and looked down at her, "Come on baby, of course I do."

Grinning, she leaned forward and playfully bit his chin, "Alright then."

Chris grinned and dropped her on top of the bed, making her bounce. Laughing, Sarah crawled to her knees and started pulling off her dress, "Hurry up baby, I can't wait."

Spreading his legs, Chris unbuckled his belt and slid it from the loops of his jeans before dropping it to the floor. Wanting to quicken his pace, Sarah pulled his shirt over his head and made a trail of kisses up his very defined abs.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Sarah," he growled, tilting his head back.

Grinning, Sarah said, "Oh please do."

"Well, well," came a voice.

Chris turned around to see a man standing near a small bar in the room. He was wearing a pinstriped suit and an ascot tucked beneath his shirt. He had a thin mustache and his hair was slicked stylishly. A grin that was more than just a grin adorned his lips. Like he knew something they didn't.

"Shit!" Chris cursed, turned on his heals to cover Sarah's practically naked body from the strange man, "What the fuck dude! Get out!"

Holding up a tumbler to his lips, the man took a sip of an amber colored liquid before licking his lips and saying, "I find it odd that people seem to enjoy sex much more while intoxicated. Why displace the senses when the act of carnal pleasure is so much more invigorating ?"

Looking at the stranger with confusion, Chris pointed towards the door, "I don't know what your on man, but you need to leave. Now."

Walking towards them with an ease in his step, James March looked at Sarah, "Very beautiful woman indeed, though redheads aren't really my taste. Harlots, my father called them."

Sarah was uneasy by the way he was staring and covered herself with her dress she had just ripped off of herself a mere moment ago. Holding on to Chris's arm, she felt her heart begin to race. This man was dangerous. He may be smiling but there was a danger in that smile, something predatory.

Stopping in front of Chris, James sighed and took another drink from his glass before setting it on the nightstand and turning back to the young man. With a grin, James brought his hand up and patted him on the arm. As Chris looked down at James' hand, Sarah let out a curdling scream when she saw a blade erupt from the back of Chris's skull.

Falling backwards, Sarah felt the warmth of Chris's blood as it splattered on to her face. Chris's body fell with dead weight on to the floor and Sarah stared at James in horror.

James began to whistle as he took out a handkerchief and wiped the blade clean before looking down at the body, "You could do better my dear."

Sarah felt her chest rise and fall as fear and panic took over. She began to shake as she held out her hands as if to protect herself, "Pl-please don't hurt me."

James gave her a genuine look of confusion, "Hurt you? No Ms. Engels, I'm not going to hurt you."

Picking up his drink from the nightstand, James smiled down at her, "You're going to do something for me."

*****

Lenore woke to the sun shining in her face. With a sigh, she sat up and pushed the covers off before throwing her legs over the side of the bed and rising. Stretching her hands above her head, she looked over expecting to see Sarah in bed but found her bed as she did the night before.

Thinking nothing of it, Lenore headed for the bathroom and took a shower before preparing for her day. She pulled on a floral dress and a green cardigan to cover up her arms. On her feet were a pair of boots that reached her knee.

As she gazed at her reflection, she reminisced on the decision she had made the night before. She had seemed to have had a rush of inspiration. She couldn't stop painting and now stared at the piece resting on the floor. She had always been drawn to artists like Edvard Munch. Expressionism was an art style that she was drawn to and what she had painted last night reflected that.

A woman without a real face. Dark, hollow eyes and long wild red hair that covered her face. The background was a mix of blues, black, and gray. As though the moon reflected down on her as she held out a hand as though asking for help. A streak of red ran down her gown and her fingertips seemed to be stained with the same shade.

She had always been inspired by the things she saw; things no one else seemed to see. But she knew they were there. She wasn't crazy like her mother believed. Or her sister-in-law for that matter.

Looking away from the mirror, Lenore couldn't help but rub her wrist in nervousness. Her decision was one she knew John would protest. But she was tired of trying to be something someone else wanted her to be.

Picking up the painting, she carefully carried it out of the dorm and locked the door before making her way down the hall and out the door.

She made her way across the school grounds until she reached the art building. She had spent most of her time here. She had been minoring in art while she pursued an undecided major.

She nodded at a few students who said hello to her as she walked towards Professor Warren's studio.

Upon entering, she saw him at his desk looking down at what looked like essays. Reaching out she knocked lightly on the open doorway causing him to look up. Professor Brent Warren was one of the younger professors on campus, in his thirties with ink black hair that was slicked back and wore slacks and a dress shirt. His brown eyes that had been set in a frown lightened significantly lightened when he looked up and saw Lenore in the doorway.

"Ms. Lowe! I wasn't expecting you today!"

He walked across the room and peered down at the covered canvas, "What's this?"

Lenore walked further into the studio, saying, "I've been thinking and I wanted to ask you your opinion."

Setting the canvas on an empty easel, Lenore stepped back and crossed her arms across her chest. Brent looked at her curiously before removing the cover. Dropping it to the floor, he looked at the painting with a smirk.

"It's very...interesting," he said, looking from the painting to her.

"Good enough to pursue a carrier?" she asked softly.

He raised a brow in surprise and turned to her, "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

She bit her lip and nodded, "Yeah."

Crossing his arms, Brent said, "Well, while I can't tell you what to do, I do believe you are a very talented artist Lenore. You've always been one of my best students."

"Thank you," she said bashfully.

Brent turned back to the painting, "It really is beautiful, Lenore. In fact,"

Returning to his desk, Brent picked up his phone and began flipping through it, "I think I may know someone who would be very interested in this."

As he raised his phone to his ear, he gave her a wink. After a moment, he said into the receiver, "Will? I think I have something you would be interested in taking a look at."

*****

Scarlett looked up from the book she was reading and squealed when she saw her aunt walk in the door, "Auntie Lenore!"

A bright smile crossed Lenore's face as her niece wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed her cheek against her chest. Resting her hand on the back of her niece's blonde head, Lenore bent down and kissed the top of her head.

Scarlett pulled away and looked up at her aunt, "Why didn't you come over last night?"

Not wanting to lie, Lenore led Scarlett to the living room and sat down with her her on the couch. Scarlett sat close and Lenore wrapped her arm around her, "It's complicated Scarlett."

Frowning, Scarlett said, " That's what Dad says when he doesn't want to tell me the truth."

Smiling, Lenore said, "You are very smart."

Scarlett looked down at her lap and said, "Dad's moved out."

Shocked, Lenore lifted Scarlett's chin with a finger, "Why?"

The little girl looked at her aunt with discomfort, "Last night, when I was with dad, somebody killed two people and I saw them."

Lenore's mouth fell open and she pulled Scarlett close, "Oh sweetie, what happened?!"

Scarlett held on to her aunt as she laid her head against her chest, "Their insides were hanging out and they were tied to their beds in their underwear! I was so scared! Daddy said it would be safer if he wasn't here anymore!"

"Shhh," Lenore soothed as she rocked her niece gently, "It'll be okay Scarlett."

Looking up at Lenore, Scarlett asked with teary eyes, "You'll take care of him, right? You always do."

Giving her a comforting smile, Lenore said, "Of course I will. Don't you worry."

As she hugged her niece tightly, Lenore thoughts turned to her brother. Why hadn't he told her? She would have....well what could she have done? She still wished he would have called her to let her know his decision.

"It's past Scarlett's bedtime," came Alex's voice from the kitchen.

Looking over at her sister-in-law, Lenore gave a tight smile. For Scarlett's sake, she tried to remain civil. Rising to her feet, she gave Scarlett one more hug before turning to Alex, "If you need anything, let me know."

Alex crossed her arms across her chest and gave an uncomfortable nod, "I will, thank you."

With a nod, she squeezed Scarlett's hand one last time before heading out the door only to stop and turn to Alex, "Where is John staying?"

Taking hold of the door, Alex said, "He's staying at a hotel called the Cortez."

"Thanks," Lenore said before stepping out of the doorway and heading down the sidewalk.

Alex stared after her for a moment before shutting the door and turning to her daughter, "Time for bed."

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love: Chapter 1 - Sight Unseen

Detective Hahn leaned against the door of John's office and grinned at the sight of Lenore sitting behind the desk. She was reserved and hardly spoke to anymore when she came to the station but it was clear she was taking care of John. She was always checking on him and bringing him dinner, like tonight.

"Hey," he said, pushing off the door.

Lenore looked up and gave a small smile when she saw her brother's friend. Rising from her brother's chair, she crossed her arms across her chest and said, "Hello Detective Hahn."

"Andy, please," he said, waving his hand dismissively, "Here to do make sure your brother doesn't keel over?"

Giving an airy laugh, Lenore nodded, "Yeah, that's right. Is he around?"

"Lenore? What are you doing here?" came her brother's voice as he entered the doorway.

"Speak of the devil," Andy teased.

He patted John on the shoulder before leaving the two siblings alone. John closed his door and turned to his sister, "I thought you were having a girl's night with Scarlett?"

Giving a dry scoff, Lenore said, "So did I, but apparently Alex doesn't think it's a good idea."

Furrowing his brow, John shook his head, "Why?"

Lenore merely raised a brow, "You still have to ask? You know she doesn't like me."

"That's not true," John said, defending his wife.

Lenore walked around the desk and approached her brother. Reaching out she touched his unshaven cheek, "You're not sleeping."

Taking her hand, John said, "I'm fine."

"John," Lenore said gently, "You haven't been to your house in days. You're little girl needs you and so does your wife."

Stepped away and walking to take his seat, he said, "Just a minute ago you were saying Alex didn't like you and now you're defending her?"

"Don't twist my words!" she said sharply, "We may not get along but I know Alex loves you and I know you love her. Ever since Holden-"

"Stop!" he growled, looking up from the papers on his desk and fixing her with a glare.

Closing her mouth, Lenore held up her hands, "Fine; I'm sorry I said anything."

Turning, she opened the door and walked quickly down the hall, leaving her brother to groan and fall back against his chair, covering his eyes with his hands. A buzzing noise came from his phone and he pulled it from his pocket.

A smile crossed his face when he saw that it was Scarlett. He quickly swiped his phone and her cherub face came on the screen. She beamed when she saw him, "Hi Daddy!"

"Hey baby," he said warmly, "ready to start?"

Scarlett nodded, "Yeah but Aunt Lenore said she would be coming over tonight."

He frowned slightly. Scarlett was close to her aunt despite Alex's feelings about his sister. It was one of the things they argued about. Alex wasn't comfortable with Lenore being alone with their daughter but John never had a reason to believe there was anything to worry about. Lenore adored Scarlett.

"Where did we leave off?" he asked, reaching into his desk to pull out the book for their nightly reading.

****

Lenore walked out of the station and into the night, her hands clenched at her sides. Her dress bellowed from a sudden breeze and she pulled her cardigan tighter around her. Her long dirty blonde hair blew around her face as the wind rushed against her.

It had been a painful five years for her brother and she felt it was only getting worse. He blamed himself and thought Alex blamed him as well for Holden's disappearance. She too felt blame, feeling as though it were somehow her fault that her nephew was gone. It wasn't rational but she felt that way all the same.

Help

She stopped walking at the sound of the airy whisper.

Help me...please

She straightened her back as the familiar feeling creeped down her neck. Closing her eyes tightly she whispered, "Go away."

Please

Gripping tightly on to the front of her dress, she shook her head and said repeatedly, "Go away, go away, go away.." over and over again.

Help!

"STOP!" she screamed, bringing her hands up to cover her ears.

Suddenly there was only silence again. Breathing heavily, she covered her face with her hands and bent over as she tried to stop her racing heart. It had been a while since she had heard the voices. Usually she just saw things. It was why her mother had tossed her in the hospital when she was a child.

"But they're my friends!"

"Stop it Lenore! Just stop it!"

Lenore straightened and shook her head of her mother's voice before dropping her hands and opening her eyes only to scream as she saw a woman standing not 2 feet away from her. She was pale and wearing a bloody dress. She reached out her hand to grab at Lenore but she pulled back and began walking backwards.

The woman looked at her with sorrow, tears running down her face, "Help me! Please!"

Lenore stared at her and said, "I can't, I'm sorry!"

"HELP ME!!" the woman screamed, lunging towards her in another attempt to grab her.

Lenore pulled her arm just before the ghostly woman could touch her. Now glaring, Lenore held her hand out towards the woman and she froze, as if something was holding her away from Lenore.

"How?" the ghost asked her, staring in bewilderment.

Lenore said through clenched teeth, "Stay away from me!"

With a sweep of her hand, the ghost let out a hollow scream as she seemed to be thrown backwards and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lenore alone on the street.

****

By the time she arrived at the dorm, her roommate, Sarah, had already left for some party. She found a note on her bed that read, Be back late, don't wait up :)

Tossing the note in the trash, Lenore made her way towards her bed where she fell back and stared up at the ceiling. She had been attending college for two years now and felt like she was merely doing what was expected of her.

She wanted nothing more than to get lost in her painting but she knew John would never really support that. He wanted her to be able to take care of herself and he would say that painting wouldn't be an attainable dream.

But still. It seemed the only thing that made any sense to her was painting. She could spend hours just staring at a canvas and seeing the image appearing to her as she mixed the colors and made brush strokes against the empty white space.

Siting up, Lenore stared over at her record player and a smile came to her face.

*****

Elsewhere, across town in a room of the Hotel Cortez, another soul was contemplating his own art.

"P-please!!" begged the bleeding woman from where she was tied up behind the half built brick wall, "please stop!!"

James March peered down at the girl and tisked, "Can't you stop that god awful wailing?!"

"Plea-mmph!"

James stuffed the handkerchief into her mouth to silence the screaming and began to whistle along with the music playing from his record machine.

"Miss Evers!" he called.

Soon a portly woman with red hair, dressed in a maid's uniform, came rushing in, "Yes Mr. March?"

"Fetch me a new handkerchief would you?" he asked, giving his long time servant a grin.

"Right away sir!" she said before rushing out of the room.

Turning back to his task, James continued at his task at hand. The woman continued to cry through the muffling of the cloth between her teeth, begging him with her eyes to let her go. But that he could not do. No, her fate was sealed. Literally.

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love: Endings Mean New Beginnings (Prologue)

A/N: I have posted this story in numerous other sites, so if you see it, I am aware of it being posted elsewhere. I hope you enjoy the story!

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Lenore Lowe was very different from other people. It was why her mother had her committed to a mental hospital at the age of thirteen and left her there. Only her brother, John, came to see her. It wasn't until now that she could leave. At eighteen, Lenore was finally in charge of her own life.

Sitting on the stoop of the hospital, Lenore held her suitcase in her lap as she stared at the little girl wearing an outdated dress. She was playing hopscotch near the street and singing a song, "...any little girl, that's a nice little girl, is the right little girl for me..."

Suddenly the little girl stopped and looked up towards her. Lenore gave a tiny smile and lifted her hand in a timid wave. The little girl lifted her gloved hand and Lenore could see the stains of blood as she waved. As the little girl turned around, Lenore could see her head was split open on the back, as if something had smashed her head open.

A man walked in front of her and by the time he passed, the little girl was gone. Looking down at her suitcase, Lenore bit her lip.

"Lennie?"

Looking up, a bright smile crossed her face and she stood, dropping her suitcase to the ground as she wrapped her arms around her brother's neck in a fierce hug. John chuckled and wrapped his arms around his baby sister's slim figure, swaying slightly.

He set her on her feet and held her by the shoulders as he looked down at her, "Look at you! Ready to get out of here?"

Nodding vigorously, Lenore picked up her suitcase which was promptly taken by her brother, and was led towards John's car. She sat in the passenger seat quietly as John tossed her suitcase in the trunk and walked around the car to the driver's side.

Soon they were driving down the road, John had an excited smile on his face. Looking over at her, he said, "Guess where we're going?"

Looking over at him, she shrugged. Grinning, he said, "Come on, guess."

Squinting her eyes, she pretended to think, "...I'm guessing my brother forgot I don't like guessing games."

Shaking his head, he said, "Still a smart ass, I see."

Looking towards the road, he said, "We're going to the carnival; Alex is meeting us wit the kids."

Smiling, Lenore sat up straighter, "I get to meet the kids?!"

"At last!" John said, glad to see his baby sister smiling.

It had been a hard road for Lenore. He knew that. Their mother had been adamant on leaving her in the hospital until she was eighteen. A few months ago, she had called him, begging him to not let her stay with him.

"I'm telling you Johnny! There is something wrong with her!" his mother had said harshly over the phone.

He had never been close to his mother and had never understood why she had Lenore committed. He had never agreed with it either. When he had offered to take her and get her out of the hospital, their mother had refused to give up her rights as Lenore's guardian. He couldn't do anything until now, and he was going to do whatever he could to help his sister.

After driving to Santa Monica, with a pitstop at a shop to buy Lenore a more appropriate outfit for the beach, they soon arrived at the carnival.

Twisting her fingers together nervously, Lenore followed behind John slowly. John noticed his sister's reluctance and took her hand, pulling her close and wrapped an arm around her, "It's gonna be okay, Lenore."

"Mmmhmm," she hummed, looking down at her feet.

"Daddy!"

A small boy with light blonde hair came running towards them. Lenore's eyes widened at the sight of her nephew. John had shown her pictures of him ever since he was born but she had never met him. His wife, Alex, didn't want him around the mental hospital. Not that she blamed her sister-in-law.

John scooped up the boy and held him close, "Hey buddy!"

"Who that?" Holden asked, pointing at Lenore.

With a smile, he stepped towards Lenore, "This is your Auntie Lenore. Can you say hi?"

Holden waved his tiny hand, "Hi!"

Smiling, Lenore waved back at her nephew, "H-Hi Holden."

Standing behind them, watching, was Alex. She was holding little Scarlett, who was no older than 2. She watched as John introduced Holden to his sister, Lenore. She was apprehensive about Lenore living with them. John really didn't talk about why she had been committed but she was determined to find out before she let her around her children.

Adjusting her hold on Scarlett, Alex approached them with a tight smile, "Hello Lenore."

Lenore looked somewhat shy as she looked at Alex, "Hello Alex. Thank you for letting me stay with you."

Alex's face softened a bit at the sound of Lenore's gentle voice. She looked like a deer about to bolt. She looked around nervously and then down at her feet. Taking a chance, Alex reached out and touched Lenore's arm, "You're more than welcome."

Lenore looked up and gave a smile before looking at Scarlett, "She's beautiful."

Alex looked down at her daughter with a smile, "I know."

John gave his wife a smile and mouthed, "Thank you," before ushering his sister forward, "Let's go! Have some fun!"

*****

"Holden!"

Lenore looked up from where she sat playing with little Scarlett. In the distance, she could here John screaming.

"Holden!"

Biting her lip, a feeling of dread filled her chest as Alex came running towards her and Scarlett, tears filling her eyes, "Holden's missing!"

Eyes wide, Lenore rose to her feet and picked up her niece, "What?!"

Alex reached out and all but yanked Scarlett from her arms, "Give me my baby!"

Shocked, Lenore stared at her sister-in-law. Alex didn't say another word as she turned and ran towards John who was still screaming his son's name.

Desperate to help, Lenore began running around the carnival, searching for her nephew. She began calling his name over and over again, "Holden! Holden!"

But they did not find Holden that day. They never found him at all. Not for five long years.

[ahslunacy-blog]

Murder Love Cast

This is the cast for my story, “Murder Love”

Taissa Faminga as Lenore Lowe

Evan Peters as James Patrick March

Wes Bentley as John Lowe

Chloe Sevigny as Alex Lowe

Mare Winningham as Hazel Evers

Sarah Paulson as Sally McKenna

Kathy Bates as Iris

Matt Bomer as Donovan

Denis O'Hare as Liz Taylor

Finn Wittrock as Tristan Duffy

Cheyenne Jackson as Will Drake

Lady Gaga as Elizabeth, The Countess

Zachary Quinto as Brent Warren

[ahslunacy-blog]

First Post

Hi! So this blog is all about American Horror Story and is where I will post any drabbles or thoughts related to the show. I welcome any other AHS enthusiasts.