AHS Imagines

18: Interview (Michael Langdon)

A/N: Thanks for reading! This one's based off a dialogue prompt and remember to request any non-fluff ideas you have since I don't write those on my own. I think this one could have a kinda suggestive part 2 but let me know???

Indifferent reader first meets Michael in an interview at Outpost 3 and has a few of their own questions

The only illumination in the room, which I assumed was his office, came from the fireplace and from the red wax candles. It seemed very dramatic to me since electricity could easily be used to light the room if this powerful guy actually wanted to use normal lights. I had no doubt that he was capable of unusual things but this man had to be very caring of aesthetics in order to be dressed the way he was and to solely rely on fire to light all these rooms at Outpost 3. 

I was called in to do the interview right after Mr. Gallant, second overall out of all the others here. The man never happened to introduce his name to us and only explained that we had to listen to whatever he said in order to survive. He sat at the black leather-cushioned chair behind a mahogany desk (more expensive, pretty items) and was observing me across the desk. I thought it would be too awkward to stare back at him so I just looked around the room absent-mindedly until he'd say something.

"Well, I will say that you probably have a better chance than the others. Much more compliant even though you have a habit of questioning some authority." He finally said.

"Uh, I guess. Who are you anyways?"

"I am the bringer of death. I am everything that's wrong with the world, and the real Antichrist. I am everyone's worst nightmare and greatest fea-" He started explaining in a dramatic tone, a powerful gleam in his strikingly light blue eyes.

"Okay, but I meant to ask what your name was." I interrupted before he could get carried away.

He paused, the expression of confidence fading from being caught off guard. The man folded his red leather-covered hands together and cleared his throat before answering:

"My name is Michael Langdon." 

"Cool. You have a surprisingly boring-sounding name for such a scary figure. I mean, most demons have names like Afarit...or Mastema or Valefar so I thought maybe yours would be something like that." 

"Um, no. I'm not one of those and I was given a so-called 'boring name' by regular people as my being was created as the spawn of a human and spirit." 

"So people can actually like...do it...with a ghost? I thought that was just a stupid joke." 

"Refrain from questioning me further, this is your interview not mine." Michael said, finally regaining his dominance over the conversation.

I shrugged in my seat and crossed my arms, looking at him to see if there was anything about his appearance that even hinted that he was anything besides a normal person. He didn't look out of the ordinary besides the fact that his entire outfit probably cost more than a car. 

"And stop analyzing me in your head, I can hear what you're thinking." 

Instead of responding verbally I just thought, very clearly, "Then start asking your stupid questions, dumbass". 

"Alright, no need for name-calling. Now, why do you think I've allowed you to remain alive on this Earth when the apocalypse has raged on for over a year?" 

"I'm not sure. I've never really been that stellar at anything, just a few skills here and there. But hey, that's pretty flattering that I made the cut out of all those billions of people." 

He almost seemed to be turning pink at my reply.

"And yet you can't think of any other reasons as to why you wouldn't be allowed to be taken to the Sanctuary? Something that brings you shame?" 

"Who hasn't done something shameful, right? Just means that we're human and can improve from it. Unless that thing is like an intentional, unreasonable murder."

"So you wouldn't have an embarrassing memory or illegal act you've committed?"

"Nothing that bad in my opinion. What, am I supposed to have committed a felony?" 

"No, it's just easier to make the distinctions over who will and will not die by seeing who can bear their pain in the way they should." 

"The only pain I have is in my back from sleeping on those weird beds, I'm still not used to them." 

He rolled his eyes at my answer. If he could read my mind, why would he have to conduct interviews anyways? Michael had the ability to just see any embarrassing thing I've done and ask me about it. Guess there wasn't anything that huge that really shamed me in any way. 

He spoke again: "My goal with these interviews is also to see if people are able to be confident in their shames and have a sense of chaos in their philosophy of human nature. The new world will be run off a code of this type of conduct. You neither fit into this idea nor are outside of it. Your natural chaos is one of mind and speech, not in action as you are vexing me greatly with your odd replies to my questions. I expected everyone to either cower in fear at admitting their pains to me or to give me a fiery story about why their actions were justified. You did neither and I can't place you. Perhaps there will be a second interview for you or I'll just assess you as time passes on here at Outpost 3. You may leave." 

I got up, feeling strange about the whole affair, and thanked him for sparing me so far. My feet led me back to my room while my head was full of confused thoughts as to why I was neither qualified nor disqualified from Michael's standards. I never considered myself to be chaotic or rebellious. It was refreshing for him to finally reveal what his purpose was with all these interviews and not just hide his motives away by saying that the answer to our questions was "classified". 

In the following few days, Michael seemed to be watching my every move like he was waiting for me to do something wrong. I responded to his watchful gaze by looking back at him with a questioning expression. He would just look away absentmindedly and pretend that he hadn't been staring me down. The others would never question it in fear of Michael overhearing their comments and punishing them for bringing it up. I didn't even care if he didn't let me go to the Sanctuary at this point, but my wish was for him to make up his mind already.