American Horror Stories

No.

No!

No.

No!

: No!

No!

My parents died when I was six.

Car crash.

I was sent to live with my Uncle Tony.

I'd never met him before, but Tony was cool.

At first.

Sadists are patient motherfuckers.

He spent the first year getting me toys for no reason

and having ice cream for dinner

and teaching me how to ride a bike and add fractions.

I was some orphan kid,

so he could've given me a hug a week and I would've loved him.

The first time he hurt me was on Christmas.

He bought himself a little low-volt cattle prod.

A couple of days later, I got my first spanking

for leaving the top off the toothpaste.

I was bleeding for two days from it.

I'm so sorry.

He saved the real coup de grâce for my 16th birthday.

He promised me a gift I would never forget.

He loaded me in the car.

And we drove for six hours into the desert in Arizona.

I thought maybe he was just gonna kill me

and bury me out there.

But then we got to Tucson

and pulled into one of those shitty suburban developments.

Tony was pissing his pants, he was so excited.

A car pulled into the driveway,

and he got out his phone to videotape me

as I watched the couple who lived there

get out of their car.

It was my parents.

They never died.

Tony wasn't my uncle.

He was just some prick they sold me to

when they were done with me.

That's horrible.

I didn't even cry when I saw them.

I just let myself die inside.

All I felt was pain and hate.

I wanted to kill every living thing I saw or thought about.

Fortunately, the person I hated the most was me.

So I decided to kill myself first

and save the world all the trouble.

Why here?

Anyone who lives in L.A. knows about this place.

Anyone obsessed with famous murders, at least,

which is, like, everyone.-

- I thought it would make news if they found me in here.

No one was living here at the time,

so I snuck in and slit my wrists.

No one told me that if you die here,

you're stuck here forever!

I don't remember hearing anything on the news.

The Realtor who was selling the house

found my body and the note.

She buried my bones in the backyard and burned the note.

Fucking irony.

You seem happy here, though.

Come.

Be here with me.

I know you're like me.

Kill yourself,

and we can be together forever.

It's not that hard to hide one girl,

alive or dead, for a month or two.

Even longer. But four of them?

You're almost guaranteed one of them would get away

- or turn up. - Well, we're praying for them.

Even after the way they bullied our daughter.

Can't imagine what their parents are going through.

Is there some new information since you guys came around

right after they disappeared?'Cause

we have nothing new to offer.

We finally got a warrant to check

your daughter's cell phone records.

She called the girls from here about an hour after the livestream.

According to the missing girl's Snapchat tracking,

they all drove here together, and about 20 minutes later

their cell phones stopped transmitting any signal at all.

W-Wait...

You're saying they were here that night?

But their car was found out front of that girl Maya's house.

Five-minute drive there, half-hour walk back.

Someone could have easily driven it back that night and walked home.

I-I'm sorry, are you saying that think Scarlett

had something to do with this?

Oh, come on.

Like you said, there were four of them.

Scarlett's a 16-year-old girl who failed gym last semester.

She has one friend, and she wasn't here that night.

She has you guys.

Okay.

Uh, okay. Yeah. We're done talking here,

at least not without a lawyer present.

Anything we say now, they're just gonna twist and turn to fit their narrative.

Please just leave.

We will be in touch.

Okay.

What'd they want?

Is there something you need to tell us, sweetheart?

Because we love you.

No matter what, we will always do

everything we can to protect you.

I didn't hurt those girls.

But they were here that night?

Maybe the ghost killed them.

We're waiting for you, Scarlett.

: Scarlett. Scarlett.

Scarlett. Scarlett.

Hey, I'm sorry, but we need to schedule a session.

You'd think in death I'd want to stop working,

but you know what, not even death can stop ambition.

Long way of saying:

I'm here if you want to talk.

Fuck.

You gonna kill us again?

Can we please kill her now?

Yeah, how long do we have to wait?

We've got all the time in the world.

So, we can only kill her once,

but we can torment her

and make sure she doesn't sleep at night for a very long time.

Because she'll never really know

is today the day they finally decide to do it?

Is today the day they finally get their revenge?

You're not gonna do shit.

I know her. She's a ghost here.

- She's... she's mean. - So what? So are we.

Not like me.

- We should go. - There's four of us and only one of her.

- It won't matter. - What the hell did she even do to you?

Stay away from her,

or I swear I'm gonna go turn this house

into a new circle of hell for all of you.

We expected her to be morose

after those girls from her school went missing,

but it's been almost two months now.

Shouldn't she be feeling better?

I'm not bummed about those bitches going missing.

Well, then what is it?

You don't talk to us about anything anymore.

You look like you haven't slept in weeks.

I mean, you never have Shanti over.

That's for her own good.

What-what the hell does that mean?

I understand, hon.

Dr. Grant told us that this could happen.

That knowing that awful things happened in a place

- can make your psyche darker. Oh, my God. Not this again.

- He started to see things. - Don't be... dismiss me.

- He started to see ghosts. - Uh, just one.

Energy. I mean, you can call it a ghost.

I-I think that's what it was.Oh, yeah. It wasn't just any ghost.

Oh, shit! Oh!

The pig man. A man pig.

- A ghost with a with a huge pig head on it. - I googled what it was.

It's an urban legend about a-a butcher from Chicago

- in the 1800s. - And he ran and got me.

But by the time we made it back, he conveniently disappeared.

- But I smelled bacon, bacon in the air. - This isn't a joke to me, Troy.

I saw something.

Can we grow up just a little bit? Please?

Now, I can't explain it...

Oh, I can.

He had a Klonopin and three glasses of Chardonnay that night.

You didn't tell me you were seeing ghosts.

Is that why you guys have been fighting for the past month? No.

He has cold feet about buying this place,

and he is pretending

that it's really haunted to try to make me sell.

Well, I'm not gonna play

your Scooby-Doo games, Michael Winslow.

This is my dream.

It was my dream too, Troy, but we're going broke.

We thought we could handle this on our own, but we can't.

And the bids we've gotten from the contractors are insane.

I'm gonna have to cash in my 401.

Troy, considering the fact that two of your family members

are suffering, maybe

it's time to reconsider your dream.

Well, you know, one of them is a teenaged girl

who was pretty darn moody without the dark spirits

of this house's help.

Thanks.And the other one is a selfish man

- who breaks out in hives whenever I get my way. - I'm selfish? I'm selfish?

- That's what's happening. - All I want is for all of us to be together and happy.

But I am scared.

Either I am losing my mind, or we're in danger here.

Wh-What if the stories about this place are all true?

Oh, my God.

Is that why you called a family therapy session?

- I... - So you can get her to validate

- your insane ghost fantasies? - I didn't book the session, Troy.

- You did. - Jesus Christ, Michael.