ROOTS | MICHAEL LANGDON | AHS: APOCALYPSE

SEVEN: OUTPOST THREE

RETURNING TO HAWTHORNE SCHOOL FOR EXCEPTIONAL YOUNG MEN made Eve miserable. Not because of the memories that were attached to their Fallout Shelter, but because of its inhabitants.

She should be thankful. She was a Purple, thanks to careful manipulation by her father and Lucifer. She could've been a Grey, doing everyone's bidding and practically living as a slave.

Two and a half years had passed since she last saw Michael. She knew they'd meet again – it was why Outpost Three was where her father, Lucifer, and Madame Voyait decided she'd stay there – she just didn't know when. She'd attempted to force a vision to come several times, but when nothing did she knew it would not be in the immediate future. She realized she'd have to let it come naturally.

She had also been the first to arrive at the bunker. Wilhelmina Venable had known who she was the moment she walked in and feared her, which brought great joy to the halfling. Miriam, on the other hand, had no memory of who the halfling in front of her was, and Eve played along with her. The second group to arrive unnerved her. There was something... off about two of the four. The brunette, Mallory, was... odd. There was something strange about her. There was something about Coco, too, but Eve couldn't tell if it was just because she was a raging bitch or if it was similar to whatever was going on with Mallory.

Timothy and Emily were the fourth and last group to arrive. They had walked in when Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft was playing.

"This song, the same one every night." Gallant was complaining, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where is it even coming from," he got up, "and why do we have to listen to it? What are we missing here?"

"About 99% of the world's population." Eve smirked at Stu's comment.

"Would've been better off dying with them." Gallant opined.

"Speak for yourself, darling." Evie, his grandmother, replied.

"Wouldn't have to drink this, whatever this is."

Andre rolled his eyes. "It's mineral water."

"It just plays over and over, twenty-four hours a day," the hairdresser continued to complain.

"It's like Satan's Spotify playlist." Stu commented, causing Eve to hide a smirk and stifle laugh behind her hand. It was no Spotify playlist from Satan. It was hers. She'd enchanted the damn radio when she first got there. If she wasn't able to see her Michael, she had to have her fun somehow.

The new occupants entered. "Oh, well, well well," Dinah spoke, "new blood. Come in, don't be shy."

Dinah, too, knew exactly what and who Eve was. It wasn't difficult for the Voodoo Queen to sense that the blonde was half demon. But she also knew of Eve's connection to Michael Langdon, having previously met him.