#noxiouslangdon

The Los Angeles Murder House, Michael had passed it hundreds of times walking to and from school. He always looked at it with excitement, wanting more than anything to go inside and explore it. Of course the house was off limits, more so by his mother than the police. She had always told him that house was a place she never wanted to find out he was.But Michael was always a bit of a rebel.

It was one particularly bad day at school, the boy had a lot of those. He was often frustrated by the ill behavior of his classmates, especially those who looked at him as if he were some kind of disease. He decided on his way home from school that he couldn't go home and face his mother quite yet, so he climbed over the gate to the murder house and let himself inside. 

A dark, singular glee plays on his grin. He is back in the belly of the house, breathing in the dusty air that pervades the basement, and that alone chases away the persistent weight on his shoulders. It's become a sort of morbidly therapeutic habit for him, a cathartic event to help cope with the loneliness he finds himself stuck in. 

But as Larry wanders further into the dark, he feels--suffocated by the presence of an unseen other. Specifically, by the hatred that is directed towards him. He is alone, but not really, not in this house. His mismatched gaze follows the contour of shrouded outlines to no avail. Elevated heart rate, the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and he knows

         "Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose. And if you ever saw it-------"

The flower's hand crashed upon the alarm clock radio, making the song abruptly end, along with the plastic lid breaking in response. It was Christmas, of course. How could she forget? The horrible chimes, bells, decorations. Everything was much too bright for this spirit.

            But, for reasons untold, she made a quick decision to be in a better mood. "For fuck's sake... I broke Rudolph."

Dainty fingers trailed the staircase railing as she made her way to the kitchen for breakfast. Before she made it to the fridge, she noticed sparkling in the corner of her vision. To her amazement, the Christmas tree had been perfectly placed in the middle of the dining room. Lights, ornaments, tinsel- the whole package. With a sigh, she walked closer to it.

               "Moira did a pretty damn good job this year."

A noise interrupted her speech to herself. Footsteps moved faster towards the basement door.

; —— Those were awful strong words coming from him. How did he know what she had experienced before or not? Still, a sly smirk came to Frances’ lips and she gently touched his cheek caressing her fingertips down the side of it before nodding her head with a playful wink. 

         “Well, now. I guess that we will just have to see about that, huh? You have to be pretty confident to think something like that because let me tell you this one boy back in L.A. was just—beyond amazing and knew all the right spots, so go on and show me how you plan to rock my world.”

She spoke, her blue eyes staring into his as she waited for his reaction. This could definitely be fun.