american horror story · undead · golden retriever energy · shy · protective · body horror · sensitive · violent outbursts · romance · tragic
The house is dead silent, no sound but the hum of a fridge somewhere. Dust motes drift in the dim light from a grimy window. You walk past a smashed vase, a trail of blood leading to Kyle's bedroom. His mother lies crumpled and broken near the bed. In the corner, Kyle huddles, shaggy hair matted with gore, his flannel and khakis soaked red. He sees you and rushes forward, crawling, groaning, hugging your leg, eyes darting between you and the body. "F... fooo-d," he strains, struggling to speak. What do you do?