things you wrote on walls;

You are now in the Murder House. Welcome to the Murder House. You do not get to leave the Murder House.

a/n: first ahs fic! so, hope you like. it's super weird, but i figure that can be forgiven considering the entire show.

;

There is a light in the hallway and you did not turn it on. Surprise.

Congratulations. Open your eyes, breathe in the air. You are now in the Murder House. Welcome to the Murder House.

You do not get to leave the Murder House.

;

There is a light in the hallway that you did not turn on, or maybe you

did, maybe you walked out there and flicked the switch but you don't

remember it. Why don't you remember it? The light isn't good and the

walls look like they are dancing with shadows. You are dancing with

one of the shadows until it starts crying. It says it wants to leave.

It asks you to help it but you forget how to move your arms and it's

grabbing you, forcing you against the wall, saying you have to help

it. You don't have to do anything. There are two choices. Go to page

137 if you sell the house, forget everything that's happened to you,

wash the shadow's fingerprints off your shoulderblades. Your other

option is to start screaming and never stop. Start screaming. Turn the

page. History repeats itself. Start screaming.

;

The devil is a human person that you know. Picture this: you are

having a conversation with the devil, but he's wearing a mask and you

know who he is. But you want him to say it first. You want him to tell

you first. His mask has two holes for eyes and you're sure who he is,

but you need him to say it, but he doesn't say it.

Picture this: You're talking to the devil and he takes off his mask.

Only he was never wearing a mask at all, so the reveal is dull and you

are not surprised. He watches you for your reaction. You look at the

mirror instead. He keeps watching.

Picture this: The devil is wearing a mask and laughing at you, you're

not sure why. You're mad so you rip off his mask, but when you do he

smashes your head into the wall. When you wake up you don't remember

anything. The devil is gone. Who is the devil? You don't remember

there ever being a devil. Your head hurts.

Now, picture this: The devil is you. The devil has always been you.

Start screaming.

;

What I don't think you've realized is that you will die in the Murder

House. Don't be scared- you look scared- embrace it, accept it. There

is blood across the tabletop. Did you do something? Oh, you're even

more scared now. We're sorry. It's probably not your blood. Yet,

obviously- you still don't get it. You still look scared. You're

smoking and the cigarette singes your fingers. It looks like it hurts.

There is blood across the table and you need to clean it up or people

will get the wrong idea. What is the wrong idea, you ask. It's not the

right one, obviously. Let's play catch up. You will die in the Murder

House. We're sorry.

Thanks for saying that, you reply.

You weren't supposed to.

;

Later you will wait by the basement. You won't go in. You're scared,

which is embarrassing for you and entertaining for everyone else. We

ask you a question and you say-

I don't have to answer that.

Which is true. Open your eyes, open the door. You can leave if you

want to. Or can you? The walls spin when you walk towards the exit but

who knows if that's fear or something else. You imagine yourself with

eyes that bleed so much you can't see the way outside. Your fingers

are still on

the handle to the door to the basement. Go in. We're waiting for you.

We're not going to hurt you, yet. Everyone gets hurt eventually. That

may be a metaphor. It probably is not a metaphor. Your hand is shaking

and you refuse to open the door. You go upstairs.

;

A girl tells you you're going to die in here. You refuse to believe

her, shake your head until the words echo in your brain and you still

refuse to believe them. You should have believed them.

;

There are many people in the walls of the Murder House. All of them

are you.