This is Episode 8 of American Horror Story season 1.5 - Murder House Revisited. You could probably read this without reading the previous episodes and still follow what's going on but it will make a lot more sense if you read the first half of the season before.

1994

At first David thought it was a joke. Near the end of the year senior pranks were commonplace and some had gotten pretty elaborate. Gunfire in the halls sounded like lockers slamming or firecrackers. Not the huge ones they set off on the 4th of July but the little bitty ones that wouldn't dent a coffee can. David heard the noise but he ignored it. It didn't sound dangerous.

Then a guy in a leather motorcycle jacket ran in and started barricading the door. Mr. Carmichael was on duty in the library and he started grilling the unhinged teen. The boy stammered something about how someone was shooting up the school. David knew it had to be a prank. Nobody would shoot up a school. That only happened on television. David couldn't see the blood from where he was.

Kyle, one of Westfield's football players, headed toward the exit but there were more popping noises just outside the door. Everyone froze, then Mr. Carmichael cried out "Go!" and just like a relay race everyone dove for cover, understanding intuitively that they needed to hide. Fast.

There was no time to think or plan. David crouched down behind the copier and as an afterthought crowded himself into the space beneath it as best he could. He barely had time to register that he wasn't very comfortable when he heard rattling at the door that the rocker guy had barricaded. David's heart felt like it stopped while he strained to hear in the heavy silence that followed.

He heard frantic whispers and scrambling. He wondered if it was safe to try and make a run for it. Then he heard two - or was it three? - loud pops over near the unblocked side door and he heard a girl scream. David's heart kick-started and leapt into overdrive. He had trouble catching his breath, his heart was pounding so hard. This was real.

David heard heavy footsteps, slow and methodical. Then, strangely, he heard whistling. It stopped before he could tell what the song was, broken off by the sound of falling books and a girl's scream. There was more silence then he heard a guy's voice.

"Quis ut Deus? Who is like God? Do you believe in God?"

David heard a girl answer, her voice trembling with fear: "No. Yes. I don't know."

He heard a loud bang, louder than the shots before. Had the attacker switched weapons? The boy crammed under the copier didn't know guns very well but he was pretty sure the shooter had at least two of them. David felt a trickle of moisture run down his jaw. He was sweating profusely but he was freezing cold. He started to shake from the chill and tried to stop. He was afraid the trembling would shake the copy stand, which was mounted on wheels. He didn't want to give away his position. He was already too exposed as it was.

More loud bangs followed, one and then another. The sound of footsteps was loud in the silent library. Then David heard Kyle's voice.

"Hey!"

What was he doing?! David tensed up but he couldn't see anything from where he was hiding.

"That's enough!" Kyle's voice cracked. "Get outta he-"

There was a pop of a handgun being fired and nearby another girl screamed and started crying out, "Oh, God! Oh, God!"

David heard a shell casing hit the floor. He thought he heard the gunman reload. Then there was loud crashing noise - the sound of a table being flipped over. The crying girl - was that Chloe's voice? - started screaming. Begging. It was Chloe. She got one wail of a question out: "Why?!" and then a shotgun blast silenced her.

"Are there any more jocks in here?" the gunman hollered into the library.

David wasn't on any of the sports teams but he had many friends who were so he wore a Wolverines baseball cap. It was a school-wide symbol for jocks and school team supporters. He took the hat off and quietly shoved it under the copy stand. The move must have made some noise because soon after David heard the heavy boots coming his way.

He started to pray.

Then he saw the shooter's face.

"Peek-a-boo," the guy said, aiming the shotgun at David's head.

The shooter's eyes were cold and dark. His face was streaked with blood. It looked like he'd been cut up by something, maybe shrapnel or broken glass. Even still, David recognized him. He didn't actually know him but he had seen him around. He'd seen him at the track meets. The guy was on the track team. What was his name? His name was... His name was...

"Tate!" blurted David.

The other teen blinked and looked a little confused. A little more human. David saw a chance.

"Tate, it's me. David," he said. "From track."

"Oh," Tate said without recognition. But he lowered the gun a little. "Hi."

"What are you doing?"

Tate shrugged and gave a little smile that dimpled his cheeks but didn't reach his eyes. "Just... shooting people."

"Why?" David realized only after that he probably shouldn't have asked but he wanted to keep Tate talking. If he was talking, he wasn't shooting.

Tate laughed. It was a manic sound that didn't reassure David one bit. "Though this be madness, there is method in it," said Tate. He lifted the barrel of the gun, suddenly frigid again. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end your suffering right now."

"I have to help my mother," David said. It was the first thing he thought of. He knew how stupid it sounded but it seemed to work.

Tate looked at him funny then he glanced away, like he was distracted by something. He moved a few steps away then, after a moment, he left completely. David wasn't sure if he was safe or not. He crouched there under the copier for several long minutes, agonizing over whether to stay put or try to escape. When his legs started to tingle from lack of circulation he made himself move.

He crawled out of the copier stand and looked around. There were papers and books scattered all over and there was blood on everything. Kyle's body was sprawled across one of the study tables. Blood covered the surface and dripped off the edges. Chloe's body was laying nearby on the floor in a giant puddle of blood. Mr. Carmichael was on the floor over by the side door, laying in another huge pool of blood. There was so much blood all over the place, it didn't look real. And yet it was.

Then David noticed Mr. Carmichael move his hand. The teen started to go over to him but the teacher, white as a sheet, waved him away. "Go get help!" he said in a desperate whisper. "Run! Go! Now!"

David ran for his life.

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...

Author's Note:

This chapter (and episode) is riddled with all kinds of hidden things. David is the middle name of Columbine shooter Eric Harris. "Quis ut Deus?" is a double reference: Eric loved Latin and he loved comparing himself to God (Ich bin ein Gott!- I am God - is something he wrote in a friend's yearbook.) and he also used the phrase "Si vis pacem para bellum" as his personal motto (If you want peace, prepare for war). Quis ut Deus is Latin meaning "Who is like God?". It is also the literal translation of the name of the archangel Michael. "Though this be madness, there is method in it." is from Shakespeare's Hamlet.

If you know anything about the Columbine High shooting, I'm sure you've caught more embedded symbolism. Westfield was so closely based on the Columbine tragedy that, in the show, you can see (if you pause it) references to the Trench Coat Mafia, both of the shooters and Littleton in the Search Results that Violet pulls up about Westfield.

I know people who were at the school when the shooting happened so I'm using this fic as my personal dumping ground for all the crap I've been carrying with me the past 14 years. I apologize if it offends anyone but if you're reading AHS fanfic and have gotten this far in mine, I'm gonna guess you're a little tougher than that.

Next chapter: Ben and Tate finally talk about Westfield. Really talk about it. You don't want to miss this therapy session.