This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the American Horror Story world, which is trademarked by Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. Both Michael Langdon and Mallory are characters created and owned by Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of American Horror Story. The story I tell here about Michael and Mallory is my invention except where inspired by scenes and lines from the show, and it is not purported or believed to be part of Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official storyline. I am grateful to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk for their wonderful stories about this world, for, without this tv show, my story would not exist.
A moment can change things
He had been visiting each outpost gradually since this had all begun. He'd strategically waited until all occupants were starving making them more pliable to suggestion, more willing to do anything for their survival. He understood why his father wanted to destroy this world and the human's god loved. They might have His love, but they were undeserving of it.
He had yet to come across a human who wouldn't do all manner of evils if given the correct motivations.
He was now at the final outpost, all of the other 'survivors' who had been so willing to pay anything if it meant that they would survive the destruction, instead of trying to prevent it or save others who didn't have access to the same resources they had. It was fun making them think they had a chance to survive, that promise that made them show their true nature. He couldn't wait until he dashed all their hopes with his poisoned apples. He couldn't wait to see the look in their eyes when they realised that their survival was just a temporary delay of the inevitable, moments before they took their last breath and left this world for his father's kingdom of darkness and an eternity of torture.
He had enjoyed interviewing Wilhelmina Venable, Mr Gallant, Dinah Stevens, Timothy Campbell, Emily, Coco and Andre. Enjoyed seeing their desperation for survival, even as they tried to hide it, and now he was on to his final interview, Mallory. Usually, he wouldn't be treating one of the helpers as a candidate for survival, but Mallory was an interesting case.
She wasn't meant to be here. She should've been wiped out with the rest of L.A. But no, she had survived because Coco had decided to give her one of the seats that she had access to because Coco's family couldn't make it. But unlike Mr Gallant, Coco had made her a servant. This should be fun.
They were in one of the main sitting rooms; it was dark with the only light coming from the candles and the fireplace. This light gave a deceptive warmth to the room and did a poor job of hiding the horror of their situation.
Mallory nervously sat on one of the chairs; she wore the brown uniform that all the helpers wore. Her brown hair had been put up into a tall knot atop her head.
He stood on the other side of the room and just slightly to the side. He had adorned himself in black with the only light in his attire coming from his long blond hair. He knew he created an imposing and attractive image. Better to manipulate and control those around him. Humans based so many of their opinions on image that it was fun to use this to play with them. He looked at Mallory. Staying silent to create drama. Silence can be terrifying when your mind expects the worst. And then he started to speak.
"You see I have a talent, call it a kind of night vision of the soul. I can see into the dark places that people desperately try to keep hidden."
Mallory turned to look at him.
"I don't have any dark places," she said looking at him with caution, she tried to sound confident but the fear that she'd been trying to hide seeped through.
"Really." His voice was full of the doubt that that word expressed.
He approached her, slowly. Given how Coco treated her he found it hard to believe that she didn't hold some hatred towards her employer and where there was hatred there was the possibility for darkness.
"So even though you've worked for Coco for many years, even though she saved your life after the bombs fell, why do I believe that you'd love nothing more than to pick up anything sharp enough to cut clay and slice her throat down to the bone. I think that qualifies Mallory. Wouldn't you?"
He stood over her. Intimidating her into a response. To admit the darkness that he knew lay within the hearts of all mankind. Mallory looked up at him there was fear in her eyes but hidden within this was defiance.
In all of these interviews that he'd done at all the outposts, he'd never seen that before in anyone. This one might prove to be a challenge, but like all others, she would fall just the same.
"Look, she can be a handful sometimes and, yeah, she sometimes makes me do things I'd rather not, that doesn't mean I want to kill her. Sure she's spoiled and she's entitled but she's also helpless. She needs me." Mallory tried to make him understand.
"You've made the assumption that I'm looking for people who are pure of heart, unblemished, pure lily-white. The old world lived under a set of rules, thou shalt not kill, thou shalt love thy neighbour, etc, etc. Rules that were clearly honoured in the Breach, I want a world without the hypocrisy."
He knelt down to her eye level and continued. "With the kinds of people who wouldn't just eat the fruit from the forbidden tree, but who would cut the fucking tree down and burn it for firewood."
He held her hands in his. Her hands were soft despite her hard work as a helper and they were warm. He almost smiled with the contact but no, any contact he gave must be for the purpose of manipulation. He couldn't think of anything more than that.
"I think you're made for that world, Mallory." He told her. His voice-changing to a more hypnotic quality. To get her to reveal her true self and the darkness he expected to see.
He moved one of his hands to touch her cheek gently. "I sense it in you."
She felt the breath that came with his words and trembled in response. With fear or something else, neither of them knew.
"I want to leave." She said trying to move away from his touch.
He was briefly hurt by her need to get away from him, but he pushed it away. He couldn't let such things get in the way of his purpose here.
"You're afraid," he said moving closer. "Aren't you?" He stroked her cheek with a single finger until it rested below her chin.
"Of accepting who you are."
"I don't know who I am." A single tear rolled down her cheek.
What she said had intrigued him; these were not the responses he usually received. He had an inkling that there was more going on here than he first realised but he didn't know what. He had to find out, he didn't like unexpected surprises.
"What do you mean?" He queried.
"Sometimes I feel like there is someone buried inside me, someone trying to claw their way out. " She said trembling, opening up to him. Her eyes frantically moved from side to side. Like she didn't know where to look.
"I don't know," she said breaking eye contact with him. Her tears more pronounced.
"I just want to go." She stood up quickly and made her way to the door.
Not wanting her to go and with a need to find out more. He went after her and grabbed her wrist.
"Let me go," Mallory said.
As he held her wrist, he could feel that her pulse was racing. With fear or excitement, he had no idea.
"Don't be afraid Mallory, I'm offering you a chance to live."
"I said let me go," she screamed, and as she screamed a force seemed to push out of her.
He was thrown across the room and the candles that had lit the room with their soft light fell, tumbling to the ground.
He had never felt anything like it before. It was so strong, so powerful.
He looked at her from his position on the floor on the other side of the darkened room.
He stood up, staring at her in amazement. This was beyond anything he had expected. Beyond anything he thought was possible.
He showed her his demon face to intimidate her into submission. The face that he would only show to possible rivals and competitors for power. The one that revealed who he truly was and why everyone should fear him.
There was terror in her eyes. He was disappointed that this was the way it had to be.
All of a sudden fire lit up the room as the fallen candles came to life and the fireplace roared with flames. He felt the fires heat and put his hands over his head to protect himself from the force of the flames.
Once it passed, he looked at Mallory, the realisation of what this could mean affecting his senses. That power over the fire could've only come from one place and that was from the diminutive brunette in front of him. That power that felt equal to his own. The fire had been a reaction to the fear that she had felt in that moment.
"Who are you?" He asked, he really didn't like not knowing what was going on.
"I don't know. Who are you?" She responded.
She then turned and ran out of the room
A witch, he thought. He'd killed them all and yet somehow one had survived. One had escaped him. Survival usually lay in darkness so maybe this one had a dark streak. Like Dinah. But her power was more at his level than Dinah's. And it seemed she didn't even know what she was. It was possible that she was a new witch that had only just now manifested her powers.
It was like she was the light to his darkness that determination to remain good in the face of apocalypse. To remain who she believed she was. But he could turn her, there were no other witches to shape her and mould her, none that weren't ashes.
He could take her and make her his creature, he could teach her how to use those powers and use them for darkness.
The end of the world was lonely without another to share it with. She didn't know it yet but she would be his and what was left of the world would tremble at their feet. He couldn't wait.
What was that? Mallory thought. She knew that what happened in that room had something to do with her and that feeling that she had ever since she arrived in this underground outpost. A feeling like there was another person inside of her trying to break out. But she didn't know if this person was good or evil and was terrified of what any of this could mean.
The world had changed so much, her reality now unrecognizable when compared to the world 18 months ago. And then there was Michael. Michael, who had this angelic handsomeness to him. But he was also cold, dark and evil. Yet she was drawn to him. There was something familiar about him and it had been so long since she'd felt anything remotely familiar. Even Coco didn't have that level of familiarity though she remained completely loyal to her. His touch on her skin had sent her heart racing, she didn't know if this was from fear or something else. But he was very attractive, and she couldn't get the intensity of his eyes out of her mind.
She briefly imagined what it would be like if his hand were to gently brush against her breasts or what his lips would feel like against her neck. She bit her lip as her imagination took hold. No, she shook these thoughts from her mind. She couldn't think this way. Not about him.
She made her way to her chambers hoping that the strangeness of the evening would soon leave her. But knowing it wouldn't. Everything was about to change again; she just knew it.