Tate Langdon x Dead!Reader

Chapter 7

Things were, for the most part, going quite well between us. He was more honest, we had become closer, and things were good. For a little bit.

I had begun to notice something startling. No matter how hard I was trying to protect him from this house, I saw that his personality was changing. He was becoming more hateful. His anger would take over at times and he'd yell at me. He'd apologize after and say that he didn't know what had come over him. But I did. Because it happened to me too. This house had brought upon me and unspeakable level of sadness. But this time, the house had decided to make him angry.

I tried to reason with whatever had taken control of this house but it was to no avail. His anger would increase more and more each day that passed. I could calm him down when I was with him but there was nothing I could do when he was away. And that turned out to be a big problem.

Something had been off with him this morning. He seemed really distant and angry. More so than usual. He didn't talk to me or anyone else. He didn't say goodbye. He just left. And I had to hope that things were going to be ok.

It hadn't been too long before I heard the door opening. I turned toward the door and saw Tate coming in. I thought to myself how early he had come home.

He quickly rushed up the stairs to his room without any sort of notice towards me. Concerned, I followed him, only to find a locked door.

"Tate, please open the door. I'm really worried about you." A grunt came as the only reply. "You know that I can just appear in there. I just want you to open it and welcome me in...please Tate."

It was then that his door slowly opened. Before he could leave back to his bed, I gave him a hug from behind.

"Tate, please tell me what's wrong." I tightened the hug before letting go and watching him sit at the end of his bed. I took my spot by the headboard and placed my hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

He looked up with angry eyes that hid sadness behind him. "I did a real bad thing, (name). Real bad..." He trailed off and looked down at the ground. "I taught all those awful people a lesson...they deserved it..."

Looking at his bag, I noticed the gun sticking out. It didn't take me long to put together the pieces in my head.

"Jesus Tate. Why?" Silence answered my question and left me wondering what had gone through his head as he did that.

I scoot over closer to him and wrapped my arm around him. He laid his head on my shoulder and we sat in silence for the longest time. What was there to say?

I could feel him shaking and I knew that he didn't do this on his own accord. This house had taken part in it as well. It'll probably have him kill himself as well. This damned house is a curse upon us.

It was then that I could hear the sirens approaching and I knew that our time together might end soon. I could just see him being arrested and taken away from me forever. The thought was so painful but there was nothing I could do.

I stood up and gave Tate a kiss on his forehead.
"It will be ok." I didn't really think so but I had to give him hope. Hope that things will be better. And I wanted some of that hope too.

I disappeared just as the cops kicked in the door. I was still next to him but I made sure no one could see me there. I had to be there with him.

As the cops filed in, they all had their guns pointed at Tate. It was a heartbreaking scene. Time stood still for a few moments before Tate had begun to move. He had made his hand into the shape of a gun and pretended to shoot himself in the head. This house has fully taken over him and was going to make sure that he was dead.

Before long, he quickly reached for his gun. I don't know if he would've actually done something but he certainly didn't get the chance to. The police had gunned him down.

He fell to the ground and I soon followed to kneel next to his head. I gently stroked his hair as he took his final breaths. One of the officers had questioned him about why he had done it. Although I wanted to know as well, I didn't get the chance. He died soon after the question was asked.

My poor Tate.