Tag You're It || Tate Langdon [American Horror Story]

AFTER BIRTH

//

3 Weeks Ago

Peter sat on his bed in the darkroom, once again his expression was emotionless as he was facing towards his bedroom door.

He heard the sound of the front door slamming open and several boots stomping up the stairs but he didn't move from his spot.

His bedroom door burst open and suddenly many red lasers were pointing to the center of Peter's chest.

His eyes scanned over the SWAT team who had their guns aimed at him but also heard a familiar voice yelling in the hall.

"No! Please! He'll go peacefully! He's just a child!"

A tiny voice in the back of Peter's head kept screaming, yelling to know what he had done but his lips didn't move.

He slowly stood up and raised his hands in surrender, his face was still expressionless.

He turned his right hand close to his head in the shape of a finger gun, pointing it at his temple before he mimicked a gunshot.

From down the hall, Peter could clearly make out someone yelling in a desperate tone, "Tate!"

And that's when it clicked. He was seeing it all from Tate's eyes but he still couldn't move or speak his own words.

With a smirk turning on his lips, Peter lowered his right hand back down to the way it was, taking one more moment to look at his surroundings.

His right hand rushed to the backpack on the bed to which he grabbed a gun, pulling it out but before he had time to react...

Many shots from the guns aiming at him went off, his body convulsed with each bullet that hit him.

Until finally, Peter's body slowly fell towards the bed, his back hitting the edge of the bed once before he fell to the ground with a thump.

Despite being shot multiple times and badly injured, he didn't feel pain but he felt the blood pooling around him.

Through his blurred eyesight, he saw a Los Angeles police officer kneel beside him. "Why did you do it?" he asked the boy.

Peter opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't. It felt like he was choking on air.

And slowly, darkness took over his vision but not before he saw his next-door neighbor, Constance Langdon sinking to the floor in the doorway, sobbing.

Peter's eyes shot open as his body jolted awake. His hands ran over his chest and body.

No blood or bullet holes.

He wasn't dead...but Tate was.

***

The small red ball rolled towards the young Harmon boy who grabbed it, rolling it back.