witchcraft!

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@vilewitches | kit walker

His ma had finally done it. She had finally got rid of him, but at what cost? An ASYLUM. Of all places the woman could have sent him, it had to be here. Briarcliff Manor, home of the clinically insane. But Credence WASN’T insane. He had no idea what was happening to him, but he wasn’t crazy and God wasn’t going to be able to save him. He may belong in a lot of places, but he didn’t belong HERE. This place wasn’t going to be able to handle him when his Obscurus broke loose. Matter of fact, it would be a BLESSING if this building was left standing if the boy lost control.

“I-I shouldn’t be here.” He figured if he repeated it enough, they would just let him go. What a stupid IDEA. Someone would save him. MACUSA may want him dead, but death was better than this place. Maybe Mr. Graves would show up and promise him everything would be okay. His ma certainly wouldn’t. She had already wiped her hands clean of him the moment she let them drag him here. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Why won’t you LISTEN?” He was starting to get frustrated. Every time that happened, people got hurt.

kit had been here for a couple of months now. he’d grown used to the daily ins and outs, the constant shouting, the new patients, sister jude’s cane - it was all old news to him, now. that was, however, until he’d seen someone new brought in. the man rarely paid attention to new patients, not really caring who came in and out of this place, but he just so happened to be standing at the front window in the common area when the new kid was brought in.

so he’d sat down, waiting for them to finish hosing the poor kid down and getting him into the standard uniform that all the men wore. when the other was finally sat down across from him, looking quite miserable, kit figured he’d finally have his chance to dig into what this kid’s deal was. “there’s no use in arguing with them, pal,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders. “i shouldn’t be here, either, and yet here we are.” kit wasn’t content, and all he wanted to do was go back home and get out of this place, but he didn’t see that happening anytime soon - not until he could prove his innocence. “half the people in here probably don’t belong here.”

how many times had constance seen the young woman? quite often, actually - it seemed that she and tate were friends, maybe from school or some sort of extracurricular activity. when the girl knocked on the door, constance got up from the kitchen table and moved to let her in, holding the door open as a gentle, and rare, smile graced her lips. “hello, elizabeth,” she looked behind the girl, hoping to spot her son, but he was nowhere to be found at the moment. “tate isn’t here, sweetie.”

constance had been seeing the woman ever since she and her family had moved into the murder house. she was wise to the way of the ghosts, now, and knew that there were many of them scattered throughout the place. she’d sent tate off to school earlier in the morning, adelaide off to daycare, and rose to preschool - now, with some alone time, she could speak to some of them without scaring her children. “alright, ghosties,” she sat down in the living room, lit cigarette perched between her fingers. “show yourselves.”

constance saw violet quite often, and she knew that the young girl and her son had something going on. she didn’t approve. tate was her sweet, innocent boy, and what was violet? she didn’t know much about the girl, but she’d already formed the opinion that she was a harlot. she’d baked up some cupcakes, ipecac syrup and addie’s spit added in for good measure, and decided to take them over to her neighbors. “violet!” she called, knocking a couple of times on the door. “I’ve brought something for you.”

constance had been worrying about michael all day. she’d seen him out to school in the morning, but she tended to be a worry wart when it came to her grandson. when the school bus finally stopped outside, the woman went to the door and opened it, waiting for the boy with a gentle smile. “how was your day, sweet boy?”

constance had bound herself to the murder house not too long ago, and no longer knew what had become of her grandson, michael. his shenanigans had gone on for far too long, and she just couldn’t deal with him anymore - so she’d ended up here, with three of her four precious children. but something had interrupted their family time, the sound of billie dean calling out for her, so she went to see what was going on. when she saw the young woman standing before her, constance raised her brows. “and who might you be?”

constance had been seeing moving trucks across the street for a couple of days now, and she was starting to get nosy. who was moving in? where were they coming from? she had so many questions, and she wanted answers to all of them. as she stepped outside to watch them, she saw a young girl standing off to the side and decided to approach her. “hello, dear - are you all just moving in? i’m constance, your neighbor.”