CHAPTER 14
BATSHIT

CORALINE had been grateful that Michael's presence got her out of the awkward and demeaning conversation with his guardian. So grateful that she offered him a hand job – again.

They were in his bedroom with the door locked. Coraline already had a plan in mind as she clicked the door shut, but wasn't expecting a negative reaction from Michael once she offered. She promised that it was the least she could do for the moment. Michael had waved her away, "No, no! Why do you always ask things like that?"

"I don't know," Coraline had shrugged. "It was expected of me with other boys I've been with, so I guess I just assumed that you'd be the same way."

Michael frowned, tilting his head to the side. He put his hands in his pockets and replied, "You're not an object, Coraline. Don't let others expect things of you. Always be in control of your life." He then grinned big. "That's what Miriam taught me."

Those words stayed with her throughout the weekend. As Coraline laid awake at night, she kept thinking them over. You're not an object. Boys these days didn't say things like that. They expected the most and gave so little. Girls were presumed to do anything they asked, which mostly involved their dicks and a pair of glossy lips. Michael wasn't like that. No – he wasn't like any of them. Maybe it was because he was older. However, he was only older than her by a year, and most seniors were eighteen anyways. She once thought of him as a child, but truthfully, he had an old soul.

Come Monday morning, Coraline realized how much her life had changed because of Michael Langdon. Maybe there was a shift in the air; maybe it was the breakfast she ate that morning, but her mindset was different. Sure, it would be nice to win prom queen and be envied by everyone once again, but the presence of Michael Langdon made those things seem so minuscule. He wasn't her Satanist neighbor. He wasn't a bad person. He wasn't just her friend. Michael was important to Coraline's life. She just didn't know the real reason yet.

Wait. There actually was a shift in the air.

As Coraline neared the entrance of her high school, she noticed the large group of students loitering outside. They were whispering in hushed tones, but they weren't looking at her. Crazy Coraline wasn't the talk of the school. It was someone different. She raised a brow and continued inside.

Whispers continued in the clogged hallways. Coraline adjusted her backpack and walked to her locker, but found her feet stopping in place. Several flyers were placed in a collage on a locker – Amalia Beaumont's locker.

They were all taped in a cluster, printed on bright, yellow paper. Her face was plastered on each of them, with a pair of bat wings drawn behind her head. Coraline blinked and walked forward cautiously. The neon color of the paper was almost blinding. She picked one of the flyers off the locker, staring at the words circling around Amalia's face.

"THEY KILLED HIM WITH MAGIC!" BATSHIT BEAUMONT STRIKES AGAIN!

Coraline's mouth dropped. She thought the rumors about her last year had been bad. Whipping her head around, Coraline noticed that other people were waving the flyers around in their hands. This is insane, she thought to herself. This can't be real.

When she looked to her right, Coraline finally saw Amalia, standing just a few feet away. Shock covered her face. Her mouth was wide open, a shriek logged in her throat. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. How could this happen to her – out of all people? Just over Coraline's shoulder, Amalia saw her step-sister, Heather, smirking beside Nate Ashworth. The sight made her want to throw up, and she was tempted to just so the nurse would let her leave.

Coraline stepped forward. She wanted to help, or just do something to make this all better, even though that was impossible. The damage was done. Crazy Coraline and Batshit Beaumont would remain as staples in their high school's history.

Amalia sprinted forward, staring at her face displayed across her locker, which was usually covered with blue, felt stickers. She ripped down one of the flyers. Then another. And then another. She kept ripping until she felt one of her gel nails snap on the ground. She didn't pick it up. Amalia tore every last flyer off her locker, and then spun around to face everyone. Tears stained her rosy cheeks.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She shrieked, turning her head to eye everyone. "ALL OF YOU! ALL OF YOU!"

Coraline slowly backed away. She looked down at the yellow flyers now littering the ground. Some were split in two. Batshit Beaumont struck again.

•••

The flyers weren't just on her locker. They appeared in random places: the cafeteria, one of the science labs, a few vending machines. By nine AM, all were taken down, but that didn't stop the damage they caused. Amalia quit the cheerleading team, leaving the head cheerleader position to her sister. Yet another title Heather Beaumont wanted and received.

It wasn't a secret that Heather did it, probably with the help of Nate. (Sometimes, people referred to him as Heather's very own Quasimodo.) Heather outright admitted to the deed in front of everyone. She wanted them all to know who not to mess with.

In true Heather fashion, she stood up on her seat at lunch and announced her crime with a huge grin on her face. Amalia wasn't there. Everyone assumed she was eating lunch in the bathroom. But Coraline Avery sat at her lonely table, watching the speech unfold.

People first spoke of Michael like he was the devil himself, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Heather Beaumont was the embodiment of pure evil.

Amalia's reputation was ruined – just in the blink of an eye. All because she went to the police about what she saw that night in the alley. All because she actually told the truth.

Coraline left lunch early to search for Amalia in the first-floor girls' bathroom. Sure enough, she was right where everyone expected her to be. Sniffling echoed across the silent bathroom as Coraline stepped inside, but ceased once her sneakers squeaked against the wet floor. "Amalia?" She called out.

No answer. She walked further inside, spotting a pair of white Adidas underneath the last stall. With a tight frown, Coraline knocked on the stall door. "Amalia," she repeated, "I know you're in there."

"Occupied!" Even with the sniffles, she tried to keep her voice perky and pleasant.

"Don't you want to actually eat lunch today?" Coraline continued. "Unless you like drinking toilet water now."

Amalia exhaled heavily. "I'm good."

"You probably already know," she informed, "but your sister just confessed to everyone that she did the dirty deed. I don't think she was trying to hide it, though."

Silence.

Coraline knocked her fist on the door again. "You alive?"

"I know she did it," Amalia scoffed. "I was telling the truth. I know what I saw. But now I'm labeled as the psycho. I knew no one would believe me when I went to the police, but I just –"

Coraline pinched the bridge of her nose. "Well, I believe you."

Amalia paused. Coraline was tempted to hit on the door again as the blonde girl asked, "Why?" She sniffled again. "Why would you believe me? I stopped being your friend after your manic breakdown. I was one of the people who went along with calling you, 'Crazy Coraline.' I agreed with Heather that you were a psycho."

Leaning her head on the stall door, Coraline licked her lips. The fluorescent light above her flickered in a weird way, distracting her for a moment. "That's why," she finally replied. "Because I know how it feels when people don't believe you. Remember, I am Crazy Coraline." She chuckled under her breath. "Hey, think of it this way: you don't have to talk to those shitty people anymore."

"I don't have anyone anymore!"

The outburst caused Coraline to straighten her back. She bit her lip hard, remembering a time when she had the same thoughts too. A time when she'd rather be six feet under. A time before she found the outcasts of board game club in the abandoned teacher's lounge.

"Hey," Coraline said, "on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons I meet up with my friends for this dumb board game club. Well, no – it isn't dumb. It's actually really fun, and the people are nice. You should come."

No response. Instead, Amalia stepped up from where she sat on the toilet, slung her backpack over her shoulders, and opened the stall door. Coraline first noticed how red her eyes were. She remembered just last week when she heard people talking about how they wish they had her blue eyes.

Amalia shifted uncomfortably in place, but allowed a small smile to tug at her lips. "Thank you," she replied. "I'd like that a lot."

Coraline nodded her head, keeping her arms pinned to her sides. Amalia's grin got bigger as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Coraline tightly. The other girl was frozen for a moment, debating what to do. She smiled then, and slowly hugged Amalia Beaumont back.

"Us psychos gotta stick together," Coraline muttered, patting the blonde's back.

Amalia only chuckled in response.

•••

"I have to confess something."

Coraline looked up suddenly. She finished off a piece of gooey cheese pizza with her legs crossed in front of her. Michael sat before her on the bed, holding his own slice as he wrapped a comforter around his shoulders. A large cheese pizza separated them, causing a distance that Coraline didn't want, but she kept it there regardless.

As Michael bit his lip in hesitation, Coraline expected the worst. She was grateful then that she locked her door. Her mother was downstairs getting ready for work, but God knows that she would be listening in if she had the time. She had even ordered them this pizza for dinner just so she could linger around the corner of Coraline's room, waiting for the delivery boy to arrive. Once Coraline threw a pillow at her, Francesca walked away, trying to keep her curious thoughts at bay.

"I may have done something bad," he muttered, pulling an object out of his hoodie. "But it could be for good. I have a great idea."

He handed her one of her old journals that they had been referencing for the past couple of weeks. She had two of them. All small, composition notebooks, used for bulleting lists, but Coraline detailed most of her visions within the tint pages, starting from the beginning. She stopped writing them down after a while. It got too strenuous.

"Did you take this?" Coraline asked, tossing it over in her hands. She hadn't noticed that it was missing until now.

"Just to read at my house." He shrugged. "I was curious."

Coraline didn't like that he had taken the journal and not told her, but she guessed she could let it slide. They were in this together, after all. She just didn't understand why he chose not to ask for it.

"Turn to page six," he said, causing Coraline to flip through the ratty notebook. "Careful of the spine. It's falling apart."

Coraline cleared her throat and skimmed the page. Her handwriting was such a scribbly mess that she could hardly understand. This one page described a vision she had a month after the first. It was about a teacher that once worked at her high school, Ms. Scarlett, she believed was her name. She witnessed all the dirty details of Ms. Scarlett's intimate relationship with her eighteen-year-old American History student, and it disgusted Coraline to the very core. How could she use her authority like that over one of her students? The fact that Coraline had to be burdened with this kind of knowledge troubled her, and she was thankful that a week later, Ms. Scarlett suspiciously resigned from her position at the school. Word around town was that she went to rehab for a sex addiction.

"Gross, right?" Michael asked, eating the rest of his pizza slice.

"Uh – yeah," Coraline licked her lips and closed the journal. "I remember all of this. It was really unsettling." She tossed the journal back to him, which landed on his lap. "Why are you mentioning this one in particular? It's a pretty old vision."

Michael raised his brow, opening the notebook again and jabbing his finger onto page six. "Did we not read the same thing? I know it's not a crime that hasn't happened yet and it's fairly old, but this woman doesn't deserve to live, Coraline. What she did was disgusting. She did –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Coraline exclaimed, interrupting his righteous speech. "That isn't part of the plan, Michael. We agreed to stop crimes that haven't happened yet. This is too far." She swallowed, watching Michael's brow crease with irritation. "Besides, Ms. Scarlett admitted herself into rehab after this, apparently for a sex addiction. She's getting help. This is something to be left in the past."

Michael was clearly annoyed. His facial expression said it all. Coraline was worried then, wondering if they were truly doing good things. Maybe she was overthinking, but sometimes it seemed like they weren't on the same page. Sometimes it seemed ... that Michael simply liked killing people. She watched the joy flash across his eyes as people crumbled to their deaths before him. They were conducting the real-life Purge, except Michael didn't need to wear a mask with a creepy grin. His face said it all.

However, Coraline Avery was naïve to her own paranoia about the sunshine boy with blonde waves and a lopsided smile. He was a beautiful, remarkable boy – someone who didn't get much credit, but was obviously destined for greatness. She was completely melted in his presence. Paranoia was all it was. Just paranoia.

After a moment of hesitation, Coraline moved the pizza box to the floor, allowing their knees to touch. One of her legs curled around his, while her other hung off the side of the mattress. The close proximity of their skin already caused the electric threads to pull them together. Coraline slowly reached out and placed her hand on his cheek. His skin was so soft and hot – scorching hot. He told her once that he bathed in the flames of hellfire every night. Right now, she believed him.

"Maybe we should just ..." She sighed longingly. "Maybe we should stop this."

Michael's brow shot up. "Stop dating?"

Coraline shook her head, noticing how quickly his irritation turned into worry. "No, no," she said. "We should stop this plan. You know, killing for good karma. Just for a while."

He pursed his lips, but eventually nodded. Coraline went to drop her hand from his cheek, but Michael suddenly gripped it, holding her cold fingers to his skin once again. It made his stomach do flip-flops. He'd never felt things like this before. It was like a new feeling emerged every time they were together.

"You had me scared for a moment," he chuckled quietly. The sound brought a small smile to Coraline's lips. "I don't want to lose you, Coraline."

Remarkable, she thought to herself. A remarkable boy. The Chosen One. Destined for greatness.

Coraline pressed her lips to his for a mere moment, but that was all Michael needed. That was all they would ever need. Because in that moment, with the threads wrapping around them, love felt real. Even if they didn't know it yet. Even if red flags had just been going off in Coraline's head a minute ago.

•••

A/N: SO IDK IF Y'ALL WATCHED THAT LIL AHS FINALE BUT THIS STORY IS GONNA HAVE AN AU ENDING!!!!! VERY FUN AND FRESH

Without spoiling a lot (though I'm sure everyone has seen the finale), I was not a fan of the ending!!!! At all!!!!!!!!! Not only because of The Thing™, but it was too complicated and too much for a fanfic. So like,,,,,,we gonna do a happy ending 🤧 (depending on your definition of a happy ending to the Apocalypse).

I could go on for hOURS on how dumb the finale was and how it didn't make sense, but I won't bore anyone with that. Just know that everything that happened in Episode 10 = CANCELLED!!!!!!!!!

Being a Michael thot is so hard