American Horror Story

The Strain, all new Sundays at 10:00 on FX.

FX presents

American Horror Story.

We have a deal with The Butcher,

and she's gonna get you back.

There was no way out.

Oh, my God. They're coming.

What do we do?

Of all the horrors I'd seen...

this one affected me... to the core.

I gave up. There was no way out.

I just tried to soak up every last second I had left.

There are very few homes in the United States

that have a history as interesting

as the big Shaker mansion built in 1792

by Edward Philippe Mott,

at 900 Sappony Road.

As Daphne du Maurier has famously written,

"Who can either affirm or deny

"that the houses that sheltered us as children, adults,

"and our predecessors, too,

"have not embedded in their walls

"the imprint of what was then,

the suffering, the joy?"

I cannot speak to the joy at the house at Sappony,

but there certainly was plenty of suffering.

Lot five:

Portrait of a Nobleman, 1789,

by John Alden Peale.

Sir!

Sir! We are in the middle of taking bids.

Well, stop.

Everyone go home!

I am buying the whole lot.

I won't be outbid so you're all wasting your time.

Even amongst the rich of the day,

he was envied for his great wealth.

Family money, of course.

Edward had what would probably be diagnosed now

as severe social anxiety.

He hated being around people.

So he went as far away as he could from the parties

and the excitement of Philadelphia.

He found a plot of land deep in the North Carolina woods

on Roanoke River's edge and bought it from the state.

Then he sent Shakers down to build a retreat,

an escape where he and his beloved artwork could be alone.

Welcome home, sir.

More paintings?

The house is coming along.

How goes the underground work?

They dig day and night.

It's slow work, because of all the trees.

Deep roots in these woods.

It must be done.

The artworks in this house are worth more

than every tobacco farm in the state put together.

If kidnappers come for them,

we need to be able to facilitate their escape.

There were numerous incidents

during the building of the house.

Odd stories.

Mischief, mostly.

Put these in the main parlor.

The Peale goes over the mantel.

Wait! Come back.

He left his wife and young heir back in Philadelphia

to be down at his Carolina castle

with his lover and his art.

He positioned each one carefully,

often rotating them from room to room.

Bring the Gainsborough in here

and put her opposite the new Peale.

He needs someone to talk to when we aren't here.

They judge us.

I can see the way they look.

I should get rid of all of them except for you.

Then I would be working all day instead of playing

with this.

The art never judges.

I envy it.

Life in two dimensions.

Frozen in forever beauty.

To watch the world go by unencumbered by the gossip

and the pain of three-dimensional men.

I love them, you know?

The paintings.

Even more than I love you.

Stop talking and make love to me.

Fine.

But first let's rouge each other's nipples.

Edward wasn't there two days before

things started getting extremely weird.

No. No.

No...

Which one?

Which one of you destroyed my Peale?!

Speak up!

Goddamn you! Speak up!

Speak up! Speak up!

Mr. Mott!

I swear... I saw a big white woman and a young man

in the yard by the woods

a few minutes before you screamed.

Lies!

Lies! Lies! Lies! Lies!

You will stay there until the murderer confesses his crime.

There are your thief's rations!

You can fight over them!

Close it up!

No, no!

Do not judge me.

Need I remind you that you are a servant as well?

Do not think your velvet tongue

and purple cockhead are enough to make you any more than that.

Do not find yourself in my sight for the rest of the night!

Or blood will spill!

What we know of the rest of that night,

and the apparent end of Edward Mott, was told by Guiness.

Ugh!

Unhand me, you fools!

Who are you?!

This is my land! Mine!

You are trespassing!

This land is mine.

This land will always be mine,

and I shall consecrate my holy right to it with thy blood!

No!

No!

No!

No!

At some point during all of this apparent mayhem,

Guiness rode away on one of the horses.

But no body or evidence of a giant fire was ever found.

Guiness ended up in jail,

accused of murdering his master and hiding the body.

He neglected to tell anyone

about the servants in the root cellar, though.

The house remained in the Mott trust

for over a century, but it was said that

madness always ran in the family.

The line ended in scandal when the last Mott died

in South Florida in 1952.

At that point the house was bought and sold a few times,

but no one ever stayed for long.

Do you believe it was haunted?

Do I? I'm an historian.

It would make my life a lot easier if the dead came back.

All I can say at this point is that no one will convince me

to stay in that house overnight,

certainly not at a full moon.

Matt?

Deliver yourselves

unto me,

and I shall grant you

a merciful death.

It was... surreal.

This wasn't just weird sounds in the woods

or knives left in the ceiling.

This was a mob,

and they were coming for us.

It didn't matter if they were alive or dead,

or what they were, I just knew that we had to get out of there.

Usurpers!

Your time is nigh.

The Blood Moon is upon us.

We must honor our covenant with the ancient gods

and consecrate this land once again.

You were given opportunity to cede this territory.

As you did not,

your end shall be a merciless reckoning.

Oh, God.

What do we do? Take my keys.

I'll go out first and lead them away.

Oh, no.

You take Flora and go straight to the truck.

Matt, please.

Please, we have to stay together.

Listen to me,

You have to get Flora out of here.

Okay. Okay. I need you both safe.

All right, now, once you go through the front door,

go straight to the truck.

No matter what happens, don't stop.

Okay. Yes. Promise?

Uncle Matt, I'm scared.

I know, honey.

I need you to be brave

just for a little while longer, okay?

Okay.

Okay. Okay.

Okay.

Come on.

Look at me.

Hold on to me as tight as you can.

Do you understand? Mm-hmm.

Do not let go.

Flora!

You could feel the house...

coming alive around you.