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velangdon · 1 year ago

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AMATIVE→Michael Langdon: Chapter 1

The oppression in my chest remains constant with each step I take. I can occasionally feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I try to keep them at bay. Though I feel an oppressive knot settling in my throat, preventing me from breathing freely, I summon enough courage to approach the entrance of the Palace where the last and greatest party of the cooperative is going to take place.

Despite not yet finding the answers or the adequate reasons to understand how so many people here can feel comfortable celebrating an event that will mark a before and after in the world, the end of everything and everyone, the end of an era and the beginning of another.

Everyone is celebrating the future deaths that will occur tomorrow.

My body is trembling, and although I'm trying my best to keep my legs from collapsing at this moment, I cling to my father's arm. Gripping the fabric of his coat sleeves between my fingers and taking gentle steps to maintain my balance due to the anxiety and nervousness my body is experiencing.

"Calm down, Vitney. We're just approaching the entrance."

My father's harsh voice echoes in my ears, and my stomach tightens as I hear his words. I can't keep calm in a celebration like this, and especially not when I know the secret behind it all.

As we approach the entrance, the knot in my throat continues to tighten, preventing me from uttering a single word. I want to look at my father, but I know that doing so would only dig my own grave since my emotions would collapse and my vulnerable gaze would cause problems between us, not to mention I would receive a lecture from him calling me too sentimental about simple things.

Unfortunately, what seems simple to others is as important to me as my life itself. And this celebration is no exception.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally arrive at the entrance of the Palace where a man and a woman are welcoming all the guests. The woman, who appears to be no older than 25 years, wears an elegant dress with many details in the sleeves, but it's a very dull gray that makes her look sad and drab even though she gives a friendly smile to all the guests. She is in charge of collecting the invitations, and her partner, a man with tanned skin and a friendly expression, is in charge of keeping track of the guest list. He also wears a suit that seems expensive, but it's the same depressing gray as the girl's dress. My mind wanders a bit regarding their role here, which, although they don't appear to be slaves, they somehow manage to give off the impression of being servants of the place. And for some reason, a pinch registers in my chest as I dwell on this naive but profound thought.

When it's our turn for the reception, the girl in the gray dress gives me a sweet and cordial look. I make my best effort to return the same kind of friendly look, but I'm so overwhelmed by all my thoughts that I can barely manage to give her a smile. To my father, who is engaging in small talk with the man in the gray suit and making sure our names are on the list, I give a discreet and suspicious look. He looks so excited to be entering here that it gives me shivers.

"Everything is in order, your names are on the lists of second-tier guests" The man at the reception tells us. "Welcome, and don’t forget to grab a black mask from the box at the end of the hallway. The theme for this last celebration is a masquerade ball."

The mention of a masquerade ball surprises me a little. I've never had the depressing opportunity to attend a cooperative party, but I was completely sure that all the times my parents had attended similar celebrations, the theme was never taken into account, except for the dress code. And I didn’t know if it was something I should be worried about or not, but the idea that this could be deeper than it seems makes me feel anxious and impatient.

I'm lost in my thoughts until I feel my father gently pushing me to start walking again. The woman and man in the reception area lift a pair of elegant silk curtains in a deep crimson color that covers most of the palace entrance, and gesture for us to enter. I hold onto my father's arm tighter, practically just following his steps, unable to control myself.

As we enter the palace, I realize how gloomy and drab the atmosphere is. The decoration is so gothic, elegant, and dreary that I feel as if I am in a castle from the 18th century. The lighting is dim, but it allows me to see a bit of the style of the place, where the walls have details in gold and black. There are some chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the light they emanate is a peculiar reddish tone due to the candles, which are the same shade. The windows have arches as the main detail, and the glass they are made of is slightly dark, as if it has some extra-material that does not allow light to pass through completely. Additionally, there are statues at each corner of what appear to be angels made of marble. They are enormous but beautiful, and it is easy to notice that they are very expensive. I can't completely distinguish the identities of the angels, as they are not familiar to me. But as we move farther and farther in, finally my gaze is frozen on one of the marble angels situated on the side of me, next to a dark hallway leading to deeper stairs. I force myself to stop walking and stand in front of the divine image.

"Lucifer" I quietly whisper to myself, as I am surprised and confused by the sight of the statue of the angel.

I can hear my father sighing next to me, and clearing his throat. My mind races for a moment and something in my chest presses firmly.

"What's surprising you so much, Vitney?" my father asks, a hint of confusion in his voice "There is nothing there"

"The statue, don't you see it? It's Lucifer, the angel..." I reply, pointing to where the statue is. His gaze is so confusing that it makes me want to cry.

"I said there's nothing there, Vitney. Enough" he says harshly, grabbing my wrist with some violence and dragging me away from there, making me walk quickly. "It's already late. We should have been at the celebration for half an hour"

I feel like protesting because of how harshly he speaks to me, but something forces me to keep quiet. The palace belongs to the cooperative, or at least that's what I understand. This means that everything here, including the decorations, are symbols that belong to what this society is. My father has just denied having seen the statue, but I'm sure that the marble angel was Lucifer.

Why does the cooperative have a statue related to the fallen angel?

"Vitney, you have to stop daydreaming" He puts his palm under my chin, forcing me to look at him "I need you here, darling. You know that this celebration is very important to me and your mother, don't you?"

"But dad, I was just..."

"Vitney, no. That's enough. We will enter the celebration and you will put a big and beautiful smile on your face, do you understand? You are my daughter, the daughter of one of the most important cooperative members" he says, squeezing my chin hard, making me gasp for air from the pain "Don't you dare ruin this, Vitney"

His words hit me hard in the heart. Again my throat closes and the prickling in my chest returns. I have never been enough for my father, and my role has always been to be what he wants me to be. The perfect daughter who acts like a shy and well-mannered young lady. Always wearing the most expensive and elegant clothing; the type of woman who has her life mapped out and resolved.

But none of that is who I am.

My father removes his grip from my chin and observes me sternly. Tears form in my eyes, but I hold them back to remember I have makeup on and my vulnerability will likely cause even more anger in him. I lower my gaze to the floor for a moment, until in my vision I see a very elegant and feminine mask in silver and gray tones with some crystals embedded in the edges, as well as lace around the corners of the mask. My father makes a gentle gesture for me to take the mask and place it. I do as he asks, tying the ties of the mask behind my head, a little clumsily because my fingers tremble softly.

"You look beautiful. Now all you need is to remove that bitter face and smile a little. I know you can do it, darling"

I take a deep breath and nod uncertainly. I try to smile as best I can, but I know it comes across as more of a grimace. My father's face lights up in response to my silly expression, and he puts his arm through mine. We walk down the hallway again, and with his free hand he puts on the mask he chose to use. There's nobody around, but the murmurs and music are starting to build. My body tenses a little, and the mere idea of being about to enter a celebration full of greedy and sick people like the cooperative makes me nauseous.

After a few minutes, we arrive at another long passage, but this time there is a delicate shimmer of light at the end of it. Some laughter and shouts of excitement approach, and a shiver runs from my feet to my head.

"Your mother must be completely hysterical not to see us coming." my father says, guiding me towards the entrance at the end of the corridor "You will have to explain the reason for our delay to her."

After hearing his comment, I press my lips together and frown slightly as I divert my gaze towards the new room we are approaching to. Many people belonging to the cooperative are in front of us, and they seem happy and incapable of allowing anything to ruin this moment that is so important to them. Some women are wearing high-end designer dresses, and utterly stylish masks. Men are wearing suits tailored from exclusive materials, and some masks are eerie. I don't know if I'm awestruck or scared, but the surprising thing is to see the repetitive colors in the outfits of everyone.

Red and Black.

As we move forward, the music becomes clearer and the murmurings a little softer. There are walnut wooden tables everywhere. Some attendees are sitting taking appetizers, and others are simply drinking their glasses or having a pleasant conversation. My eyes move from one person to another, and I realize with a start that some impudent and curious glances are directed at me and then at my father. I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead, but the corners of my eyes betray me and before I realize, I realize that all the attention is centered on me.

It could be because of my dress that doesn't even match the theme or the fact that we arrived with a visibly late delay. But in any case, discomfort begins to affect me, and I have never wished for anything as much as I want to escape from here.

"Look, there is your mother. I'm going to introduce you officially with important people. Be kind and polite, Vitney. It's the only thing I ask of you."

He points to a table in the corner of the room where a group of women and men stand, their masks and masks even more unusual than those of the other guests. I squint my eyes a little, distinguishing my mother thanks to his jet-black hair tied in a typical bun on the back of her neck. I see her laugh joyously, and for a moment her smile is contagious, spreading the delight that she emanates.

In a short moment, she throws a quick glance our way as we approach her table. Her lips part in surprise at our appearance.

"Vitney, my princess!" My mother screams enthusiastically. She quickly rises from her seat and runs forward a little, making her heels clatter against the fine marble floor "You look beautiful, sweetheart!"

She gasps with excitement and hugs me tightly as she reaches me, closing my eyes for a moment, as I feel the sensation of my eyes forming more desperate tears.

"I apologize for the delay..." I reply in a low voice, hugging her around the waist "I was just a bit nervous, and Dad got frustrated again, as always..."

My mother sighs and then separates from me. She gives the people seated at the table a quick glance before turning to me and walking with me to a place away from everyone. She strokes my arms and shakes her head softly.

"It's understandable sweetheart, these kinds of celebrations can be overwhelming and ... especially knowing that it's your first time in our world." She smiles. "Don't let your father ruin this last night for you"

Don't let your father ruin this last night for you.

An impulse of disappointment grips me, and again the oppression in my chest weakens me. My mother's words sound so harsh and true that I want to burst into tears. I don't know how I can bear being in this place, considering that the Apocalypse is around the corner. And that surely anyone who is underneath one of those masks or masks is the mastermind behind the next catastrophe.

My mother hugs me again, and even though I try to prevent it, I'm feeling emotional again. Tears run down my cheeks like a river, and I hold her tightly. I can feel that some people are looking at us, but the only thing I can think about is staying close to the only thing that has helped me stay on my feet since I was a child, and that's my mother.

It feels like a farewell, and that's what hurts the most. Because I'm sure she has no idea what's going to happen with us either, even though my father made it clear that the cooperative has built a kind of bunkers around the world to serve as a refuge for the elite.

We are supposed to be part of that elite.

"Don't make it sound like a farewell, Mom" I reply with a quivering voice "Please. We'll be fine, right?"

She looks at me, smiling sadly. She strokes my hair without saying anything, and then joins her hands with mine. More tears form beneath my eyes, and now I cannot stop them. She gives me a gentle squeeze on my hands. I'm about to ask her for all possible explanations she can give me because desperation is killing me slowly, but quickly she takes me by the waist, turning me to the opposite side of the room. She squeezes one of my shoulders, and I watch her in confusion.

"Mom, what are you..."

"Vitney, be quiet. Your father is coming here" my mother squeezes my shoulders, looking in a specific direction "Stand up straight, dear"

A few seconds later, my father is already standing in front of us. He wears an overly visible smile on his face and moves to my side, separating me from my mother's arm.

"Dear, you're coming with me. I need to introduce you to someone" my father says with enthusiasm, placing a hand on my waist and leading me through the tables "Be on your best behaviour, okay?"

"Who do I need to meet?" I ask, a bit irritated, not understanding the situation.

My father does not reply, and he forces me to keep walking between the tables, holding on to my wrist firmly. I want to get out of his grip, but he is stronger than me, and he does not notice my discomfort. I am a few seconds away from yelling at him to let me go, when a voice becomes present behind us, and my father stops abruptly. He turns quickly and forces me to do the same. I lower my gaze and close my eyes, refusing to face my reality.

"Good evening, Mr. Lacey" an unknown but authoritative, discrete, and masculine voice reaches my ears. It speaks to my father. I tremble a little but do not have the courage to look. "It's a pleasure to have you here, I thought you might not come"

"Sir, what an honour. Of course we would be here, we just had a small mishap" my father responds and laughs nervously.

I squeeze my fingers around my father's arm, and feel his body leaning towards me. He squeezes my waist and I jump in place a little.

"Stop acting like a frightened, immature girl. Be educated, Vitney. You have the most important representative of the cooperative right in front of us" he whispers in my ear in an ironic and aggressive tone. "You are already a woman, you have to stop running away from everything around you"

A tear runs down my cheek due to the hostility of his words. I have no choice, but I feel so anguished and nervous that I don't dare to look anyone in the eye. My father squeezes my arm aggressively, as a warning to let me know that he won't repeat things twice. Finally, I take the courage to open my eyes and lift my gaze. My vision is clouded by tears, but I manage to glimpse the outline of a man in front of me.

"Miss Lacey" the voice makes itself present again, and this time it speaks to me. I freeze in my place, but the man moves, walking in my direction.

I can't answer. I know that if I do, I'll start crying.

"My name is Michael Langdon and I am the representative of the cooperative" the man says in a formal tone "It is a pleasure to meet you, miss."

Then, for some unknown reason, as I hear his name, I feel my heart skip a beat. And I realize that I am on the verge of falling into my own perdition.

[Hey! The first chapter of "Amative" of my Michael fanfic is finally published. It was quite a challenge because my English is not very good and my novel is originally written in Spanish, and if there are any errors, please have patience as I still struggle a bit to translate my story into English.

I hope you enjoy the chapter, btw. <3]

#ahs apocalypse #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon #cody fern #american horror story #michael langdon x fem!reader #ahs fandom

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