on wednesday's's we wear black

Episode 07 | Aired Nov 28, 2012

An angelic femme fatale brings the promise of eternal peace to the suffering souls of The Asylum in 'Dark Cousin'
By Jeff Jensen at EW



Divine intervention broke into the bedeviled world of American Horror Story: Asylum, but she did not come bringing truth for the deceived, or justice for the wronged, or liberation for the oppressed. The only balm she had for the suffering, the only release she had for the stricken, was a kiss of death. She called herself “Shachath." In ancient Aramaic, the word means “destroy” or “spoil” or “go to ruin.” She insinuated...

( Scene) The Harmon family in the car on the way to their new home.

Violet: L.A is full of creeps, drug dealers and killers, great place to mover to. ( sarcastic tone of voice)

Ben: oi crabby! cut it out. This house will be a new start for all of us

Violet: Whatever

Viv: You know tolet, violet I wish you were a little mais optimistic about this, you get to start over

( tolet, violet does a big fake grin)

Viv: Forget I asked.

( Arrive at the new house)

Violet: Holy shit is that our house!

Viv: Yes it is, I think it's great.

Ben: And it was plenty cheap too

( Big 19th century mansion)

( Ben rings doorbell and waits...

Episode 13 | Aired Jan 23, 2013

An interview with Lance... er, Lana Winters leads to confessions, revelations, and one mais battle with Bloody Face in 'Madness Ends'
By Jeff Jensen at EW



For the segundo time this season, American Horror Story: Asylum unintentionally tapped the zeitgeist in a way only super-psychic Billie Dean Howard could have foreseen. On Halloween, we watched a “Nor’Easter” lash Briarcliff Manor Sanatorium during a black mass movie night as Hurricane Sandy completed its terrifying week-long rampage up and down the East coast. Last night, less than a week after Lance Armstrong...

Episode 11 | Aired Jan 9, 2013

Twisted mother issues and bizarre baby trouble curdle the horror and spoil some heroic triumphs in 'Spilt Milk'
By Jeff Jensen at EW



Johnny Morgan, the man who believed he was the son of Bloody Face, sat in the gloom of his suspected father’s old início stewing in his scruffy tank-top skank and toking on a jogo da velha, hash pipe while waiting for something stronger to make the pain go away. She arrived in the form of a call girl named Pandora, a spirited treasure chest filled with playful vice, whose bulging bosom was mais juiced than usual thanks to a recent transformation:...