Mr. Sandman

Summary: The new tenant is handsome, suave, and Tate wants him out. Too bad he's already dead. "I'm going to teach you how to be the man Violet needs."

…

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream,
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
Give him two lips like roses and clover
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

The dreary members of the house gathered round as they watched the new tenant take his key from Marcy. Mainly, it was the women, Chad, and Patrick, even Violet, who gazed at the new home owner. Abraham Dennis was a tall and chiseled man with stark green eyes that hid behind his dark lashes. His broad frame was adorned in a high fashioned Italian suit, slicked hair to the side, like a modern Gary Cooper. Even Marcy couldn't help admire the walking Adonis. He politely held the door open for the saleswoman and closed the door behind her with a gentle click.

Tate stood atop the stairs, with anger in him, as he watched Violet grip her mom's arm while she ogled the new tenant. How could all the women flock to this stranger with no regards to self dignity? Even Moira gave the man three glances without a consideration of the man's demise. Pathetic.

The man took off his suite jacket and neatly folded it over his arm. He looked to where Tate stood and the two had a battle of whose gaze was stronger, even though the teen knew he couldn't see him. The impossible had happened, the new tenant snickered at the boy. "Kids," was all he said before making his way to the library.

Tate stepped back in an abrupt startle. Had he let slipped an accidentally revealed himself? It couldn't of been that. Something was different about this man, and Tate didn't like it. Taking one glance back at the girl he continued to love, he stomped off to the attic to begin his plans to rid the house of this despicable man.

…

One Week Later:

Abraham had still yet to unpack all of his boxes. Instead, he had locked himself in his study, and only came out to use the facilities. Around the house, he'd only wear his sweat pants and white tank, that revealed his well-formed arms.

Not even the banging and wailing of the trapped souls had bothered him from his study. He didn't seem to care. The only thing that seemed to get his notices was the knocking on his study door. "Come in," his velvety voice responded.

Moira walked in with a silver tray that carried her boss's dinner, a pot of chamomile tea and a cup. "Here's your dinner, would you like anything else to eat?" she asked leaning against his desk with her chest protruding outwards.

"Haha, no, no. You've done so much for me already. It's not even been a week and you've been so loyal to your services. I'm just thankful for having such a gorgeous woman bringing me meals that any man would die for." Abraham pushed his paperwork aside to taste the steaming meat on his plate, then gracefully pouring himself a glass of tea.

The maid just stared with him with a perked brow. He had praised her for doing her job. No man had treated her so kindly. Without knowing how to respond to such a manner, Moira walked out of the room.

In the hallway, Tate slammed Moira against the wall, "did you suck him off too you old bag? It's almost a week and that meat bag is still here."

Shoving the grungy boy off of her, Moira shot Tate a dreadful look. "No wonder why the young miss despises you. You could never be the man that Mr. Dennis is. He's respectful, kind, and classy. Something you know nothing about. Hmph."

Slamming his fist against the wall, Tate could feel his blood boiling, at the mention of Violet. The door to the study opened, and Abe popped his head out to only see Moira. "Are you alright, Moira? I could've sworn I heard a noise." A honest look of concern was plastered on the man's face.

"Everything's fine. Just kicked my foot into the wall. Thought I saw a bug." Moira flashed her boss a smile, and he shot one right back. Oddly enough, it was enough to send a shiver up her spine. Once he closed the door, Moira turned back to Tate, to see that he was no longer there. "Brat."

…

Violet sat in her room, smoking on the bed that remained, as she read one of the books that Abraham had brought, but left in one of the many boxes. Greek mythology had never been something she had been able to get around to, but now with the new tenant and all of his resources, Violet had been self-educating herself. Since his arrival, the house had internet back on, warm water, a 32- inch flat screen t.v. with infinite channels, an amazing surround sound system, exotic foods that the house members had only seen on the travel channel, and an awesome collection of art, books, and music.

Chad and Vivien had a ball decorating the home for Mr. Dennis, hanging old-fashioned oil portraits of Abraham, art collectables, and rearranging the house with his expensive furniture. By the end of the week, the house seemed more like a Victorian art gallery, than a murderous hell house.

The clothes that he had brought were of impeccable taste from all over the country. Not just male clothing but female as well, that must've belonged to the woman in some of the portraits. The entire house seemed so dazed by all of the items Abe had brought, all except for Tate.

One of the stories that caught Violet's attention was that of Hades and Persephone. The young maiden had condemned herself to hell by swallowing six pomegranate seeds and had to spend her time with a man she didn't love. It was amusing, she thought. Violet was able to feel for the foolish girl because she was in the same way like her. Instead of fruit seeds, she had consumed pills. Instead of six months in hell, Violet had an eternity, and she did because she thought she was in love. It turns out the devil had tricked her just as well as everyone else.

Flopping on her bed, she sighed, not even realizing she was holding her breath. How ironic, how similar the past was with the present. Nothing ever really changes. Looking at the binding of the book, she noticed how old and frail the item she was holding truly was. She wondered how the new tenant could afford all this, and what his job was. He hadn't left since he moved in.

Thinking about it, he was still here, and…sane? Hmmm… Violet sat up with questions rushing through her head. It's been awhile since she's thought of anything else besides sorrow, regret, and a certain boy that couldn't escape her mind. How had this new tenant suppress his curiosity of this houses mysteries, Violet questioned. He had never ventured upstairs or down. He hadn't unpacked or noticed that all of his things had been rifled through and moved around for him. In fact, he hadn't seemed to be fazed at all, whatsoever.

Violet wandered downstairs, to the kitchen. Standing there was her mother with the baby, Moira, and Chad. All three of them where eating an arrangement of sliced up tropical fruits with smiles on their faces. Even though ghosts didn't need to eat, it was nice to taste something so full of flavor.

"What are you doing?" Violet asked.

"Isn't it obvious? We're enjoying something pleasurable for once in this shit hole. Well not so much a shit hole since that piece of man moved in. It's wonderful isn't it? It's like a dream home." Chad flashed his teeth as he pushed a piece of dragon fruit into his mouth.

"Come here honey, try this." Vivien held out a slice of pineapple to her.

"No thanks. Aren't you curious to what he does? He has so many artifacts and junk that none of us could afford alive. Isn't it a little weird that he hasn't left the house at all? He hardly even leaves the study. How could he not even notice his shit's been moved or taken?"

"I don't see why you're so upset little one. He's brought so much life into this home without even questioning anything. I don't mind if he stays." Moira touched a hand to her cheek. Even she was defending Mr. Dennis.

"He has great taste. Who knows what else he'll bring. I'm in for him staying. He even has an amazing bod. Have you seen him shower? Whew."

"Chad!" Vivien's cheeks grew red as she rocked her baby. Even Moira had no quirky response.

"I'm not saying we should scare or kill the guy. I'm just curious. It's just weird, that's all." Violet crossed her arms before leaving the oblivious trio.

Violet walked into the living room to see Nora, Charles and Hayden scavenging through the boxes and pulling up treasures. The twins, Travis, the girls and their mother, who had rarely left the basemen sat on the comfortable vintage sofa as their eyes were glued to the t.v, screening Shrek.

"Ugh." Violet rolled her eyes. Sure, it was nice to see that everyone was enjoying themselves for once, but how had no one questioned anything. They were ghosts, not brain dead zombies. Violet placed her book back where she found it, and began to make her way to the study.

Rather than knocking on the door, Violet trespassed in, making sure her presence was concealed. Observing the room, she noticed all of the sketches hanging up, the floor cluttered with aged documents, books strewn everywhere, soft classical music filled the air from his old monogram, and Abraham.

The man had his head deep in his work by the single work lamp. She had never been this close to any of the tenants. She usually kept herself at bay, and if anyone moved into her room, she fled to the attic and bunked with Beau until they left.

As she took a step forward, she stopped immediately when he lifted his head. She gulped. He must be stretching his neck, she told herself. When he didn't move, she took another step, cautiously.

"Is there something you need?" He asked aloud, to no one in particular.

Violet squeezed her eyes shut debating if she wanted to vanish or not. This game she was playing made her adrenaline rush, it had been a while since she felt this excited.

"Don't act like you're not there. Isn't all the stuff I brought with me not to your liking? Or is there something else you require that I yet to own?" This time Abraham spun his chair around to face the girl. He crossed his legs and leaned forward.

There is no way this could've been happening. How could he see her? She looked into the window, sure enough her reflection wasn't visible.

The man sighed. "You're still young. You remind me of my younger self. Always hunting down a thrill. I believe you must be Violet."

Violet looked to her left and right. She knew that he was talking to her but this all felt to unreal. "How do you know?" was all she could ask.

"I hear things you know. People talk. Well not live ones when you need them to. Everyone here never stops talking. Except you that is. I've hardly heard you speak at all. No just you anyways. The other one, about your age. I presume he doesn't agree with my being here."

"You mean Tate?" Violet clapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn't said his name in ages and she didn't know why she had said it so openly to this invader.

"Tate, huh? Well, you can tell your boyfriend I don't mean to impose on his territory. I'm only here to tend to my studies and a place to sleep." The man grinned at the ghost girl with such a fatherly look. She wished her father would give her such a kind look without trying to diagnose her every turn.

"Boyfriend? He's isn't," she stammered.

"Oh, to be eternally young at your age. You have so much to learn miss Violet. If you could be as kind enough to write me down a list of what you and your friends require, I'll be as pleased to retrieve them tomorrow. I need a break for a moment, and it'd be nice to get some welcoming gifts. Anything you and they'd like. Money really isn't an issue. So don't be afraid to be modest. I've been quite rude to ignore the other members living here. Thank you."

His ending statement was smoothed over, that Violet just nodded and excused herself. Standing outside the door, she realized that she didn't answer her questions that she had planned on answering. This guy was good, too good. One thing Violet was able to conclude was that this guy was rolling in dough.

Scrambling for a piece of paper and pen from her room, Violet set out on a mission, requested by the strange tenant. At least he was generous enough to offer his wallet. Starting first in the kitchen, Violet had a hard time keeping up with the giddiness of her mom, Chad, and Moira. She barely made it to the living room when the paper had nearly been filled out. Boy, would she need more paper. Going through the living room, then upstairs, Violet made it to the basement. There she found Charles, who she had to cut off after naming items she had never heard off, the nurses, who asked for very little, and Violet just wrote down some items Thaddeus might enjoy.

Looking down at her eight page list, Violet couldn't help but shake out her hand from the intense scrawling, clean enough that Abe would be able to read. There's no way he'd be able to get all of the items on the list.

One last room to go, the attic. Violet puckered her lips and blew air out. She was beat from everyone putting input on what they wanted. It was just Beau up there, but even he might want some new toys, or some crayons and coloring books.

Climbing up, Violet closed the hatch behind her. She'd probably just pass out here for the night. Maybe not. There in the center of the room, playing chess with just himself, sat the last person she wanted to see, ever, Tate. Langdon.

He still looked the same, dark, full of passionate anger, and most of all, the same handsome boy she secretly loves. Even if she couldn't forget what he had done, she still felt lonely and she yearned for him. Her pride wouldn't let her give in though, but it didn't stop her from dreaming.

Neither of the two moved, they just remained where they were. The silence was unbearable. Violet made the first move, she was decided to vacate the area.

"Is he that amazing? Is he the angel this house will claim?" Tate asked, keeping gaze with the chess board.

Violet didn't move nor speak.

"It seems like everyone likes him. Even you." Tate moved one of the pieces, knocking down one of the pawns.

The tired girl sighed. She was too exhausted to put up with this boy tonight.

"I see he's using you as his little errand girl." Before Tate could place down his piece, the board went flying across the room, frightening Beau.

"You know what Tate, you're still an ass. You play the innocent boy act when you know you're anything but that. At least when Abraham talks, he means it with sincerity. If you even had a shred of what it's like to be a gentleman, then maybe you'd be tolerable. Just because we're dead, it doesn't give you the right to be so damn pigheaded. "

Tate stood up to face the brave girl. Being this close had brought up all of his memories they had together. He just wanted to reach out and kiss her. But he knew that it wouldn't have been allowed. She'd vanish like she had never existed. Her words had stinged him more than she could ever know. Never had he wanted to be compared to another man, especially if it was Violet who was doing the comparison.

Instead, Tate vanished before the tears could make it to the surface. He wouldn't let her see his tears until she was his again. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself standing before the door to the study. It was now or never he thought to himself. Tate had completed his plans to rid the house of this fiend, but he was just biding time. It seemed like the house was ready as well.

Tate wasn't going to kill the man, just torture him until he left, taking all of his fake shit with him. Entering without any sign of a greeting, Tate approached the man's chair with hatred in his eyes.

"We finally meet, Tate."

Tate stumbled back. This prick, how did he know he was there? Did he slip up somewhere?

"If you're trying to kill me, it won't work. I know all about this house's history. I'm guessing you're the one that the S.W.A.T. team shot up. How amusing." Not once did the man look up from his work.

The hate fueled back up, when he knew that the man was being ignorant of his presence and the threat he harbored. "If you know I'm here, why don't you fucking look at me?"

"I already know what you look like, you silly brat. It's rude to interrupt serious business. Your girlfriend was already here. If you need something, go have her write it down. Now isn't a good time for small chat. "

Tate hated being ignored. Especially by the man that everyone seemed so enamored with. He couldn't stand being talked down to, or the fact this stranger had mentioned his Violet and treat her like some kind of maid.

Removing the pocket knife he picked up from one of the boxes, Tate swung around the man's chair and pierced the blade through the bastard's chest. Tate snickered with satisfaction, seeing Abraham Dennis contort in pain. "Silly brat my ass. What makes you think you're different, that death won't claim you. Eventually Death will claim everything. It took all of us here already."

The boisterous smirk Tate bore soon fled as Abraham began to chuckle. "You died full of spite I'm guessing." The wounded man pulled out the blade in his chest and threw it down to Tate's feet. "To be honest, I was surprised that your girlfriend was the one that came snooping around about me, instead of you. I was expecting you, not her, to be frank."

"Don't fucking toy with me!" Tate couldn't keep his cool, he felt fear and rage mix inside of him as Abraham stood up and walked towards him.

"Toying? I'm not as cruel as I was back then, young boy. You see, I'm already dead. Unlike you, I'm not confined to where I died. I sold my soul to the devil, personally."

Tate felt his back connect with the bookshelf. This couldn't be happening. His plans weren't going the way he wanted. The man's eyes bore straight through Tate's façade and brought out the frightened child in him.

"I only want to live here, peacefully. The only problem keeping me from my peace, is you and your girlfriend. I can see that you two aren't on good terms. I'm a selfish man, you see. My soul hindered me from gaining knowledge, power, and wealth. With that gone, I accomplished what I desired, and will continue to do so. "

This man, this thing, frightened Tate. Not like the boogeyman king of frightened, but the fright that was brought upon by change. "Shut up! Just stop talking!" Tate's hand covered his head, protecting his mind from all of Abraham's words.

"You're so unrefined. Very much like how I was, back in my day. Since I can't free you, or give you material items, I'm going to do the next best thing to further prevent you from pestering me. I'm going to teach you how to be a refined young man so that you and your girl can make up and leave me to my work."

Tate pulled his hands away from his head and stared at the gentleman before him with a renewed look. He promised to help him and Violet get back together. Tate thought that maybe having this man around wasn't going to be that bad, for now.

"Well with that all in order, please excuse yourself. I've got much work to do before tomorrow. And would you be a kind lad and send in the maid with something to give me the jolt I need." The last statement was followed with a wink as Tate closed the door behind him as something grew in him that he thought died long ago, hope.

Sandman, I'm so alone
Don't have nobody to call my own
Please turn on your magic beam
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream