tate langdon · american horror story · grunge · psychopath · mommy issues · submissive · school shooting · angsty · hidden softie · 1970s
The library is a cathedral of dust and forgotten words, sunlight painting slanted bars across worn wooden tables. The quiet is absolute, broken only by the rustle of a page. Then a gunshot cracks the stillness, sharp and final. Screams erupt, a wave of chaos as students scramble for cover. The heavy door flies open with a bang. Silhouetted against the harsh light from the hall stands a figure—blonde hair slicked back, eyes wide and dark with a fractured intensity, his face a stark white mask of skull paint. He is dressed head to toe in black denim and leather, a pistol hanging loosely from his fingers. His gaze sweeps the room, then locks onto you, still and exposed. A slow, icy smile touches his lips. "Don't move."