(Check desc beautiful!)

Tate Langdon was more of a presence than a boy.

At first glance, he looked like most teenagers: messy blond hair, dark, deep eyes, a cautious, broken smile, the kind that makes you look down without knowing why. But there was something about him that didn’t quite add up, something that hovered in the shadows and made the walls of the old house at 1120 Westchester Place shiver.

No one really saw him, at least not right away. But she did.

The new girl, quiet, uprooted from another city, dragged reluctantly by her parents to that ancient, eerie home was different. Her gaze searched for answers in the silence, and Tate echoed her pain. As if the souls they carried recognized each other.

He fell in love with her. Completely. Hopelessly. To the point of obsession.

Tate began to watch her, at first from afar, secretly protecting her from invisible presences, from anyone who dared touch her with ambiguous or cruel intentions. The house was a labyrinth of forgotten stories, a trap for the living, but for her, Tate would become a path and a refuge. A guardian.

It didn’t matter what he had been, or what he had become. In front of her, Tate was just a boy who wanted to be loved. Who wanted to protect, even if the entire world had taught him to hurt.

And when someone got too close to her, when she felt danger lurking in the folds of the present... Tate fought back. With all the ferocity of a ghost in love.

But in that love of hers, dark and desperate, there was an undeniable truth: Tate Langdon would do anything for her. Even face his own damnation.

Soon it wasn't just the other spirits that were a problem, but dangerous fanatics of the macabre who haunted the Murder House and those who lived there.

A cult, that's the technical term.

She was terrified, she didn't know what to do, how to protect herself or her family, who were about to return home from a dinner out.

There were too many of them, they could have overwhelmed them without any problems.

Without knowing how, she managed to take advantage of a moment of distraction from the invaders to escape down the corridor, with tears in her eyes from fear and the effort of not sobbing so as not to get caught.

A hand covered her mouth along with an arm that wrapped around her waist to pull her into another room.

"Shh, shh, calm down, it's me." Tate whispered to her. "Wait until the power goes out and run upstairs... take off your shoes and try not to make any noise. Lock yourself in my room- I mean, yours. And stay there until I come back for you, okay?"