Sweet Devil [BL]

On that summer day five years ago, the morning light shone through the window unusually brightly, waking up Gabriel earlier than usual. After tossing left and right and realizing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, he got up with sleepy eyes and left the bed, wobbling his way to the toilets, then the kitchen.

He hadn't eaten much yesterday, and his stomach was now growling, emitting sounds akin to snarls. Maybe that was the real reason he woke up; he just knew the sunlight wasn't enough to wake him from his dreams. For as long as he could remember, getting out of bed had always been an ordeal, and it wasn't a few sun rays that would solve this little problem of his.

'I'm just gonna eat a little something and go back to sleep.'

With this in mind, he snuck into the kitchen, which was empty at this early hour. There was not even a staff member around, meaning that he could steal a few snacks without being caught. He knew his mother didn't like it when he ate between meals, but if she didn't find out, how could she scold him?

Anyway, he had always been good at pretending he hadn't done anything bad, having mastered the wide, innocent, and pure-looking eyes that made people's hearts go soft. And it wasn't like he was planning to loot the refrigerator, much less empty the pantry, so his little escape to the kitchen should go unnoticed.

But in the end, his plan to snatch something inconspicuous quickly went down the drain once he smelled the good smell of a fresh-baked pie. His reason also bid him farewell.

As he tiptoed to the oven, Gabriel couldn't help but salivate and gulp, his stomach growling a little louder with every step he took.

Though it appeared that no one was currently present, there were signs that someone had been busying themselves in the kitchen just a moment ago. Gabriel had no idea who they were, but he had a hunch they baked the pie for his mother as it was her favorite dessert. It was also one of the rare desserts he had a soft spot for.

With squinted eyes, he stared at the pie for a long time before eventually succumbing to the temptation. He told himself that he would eat a slice, just one small, little slice. However, he had underestimated his hunger and willpower and ultimately wolfed down more than half of the pie, leaving behind only a serving for his mother.

"…I'm so dead if she finds out," the boy coughed after the deed, scratching his cheek in embarrassment.

It had been so long since the last time he had eaten apple pie that he hadn't been able to stop himself, almost swallowing it whole. It tasted even sweeter than usual, a bit as if the cook had added an extra layer of sugar and cinnamon, though there was also a faint bitter aftertaste.

"Let's just flee and pretend I know nothing. That should do the trick," the boy nodded to himself, chasing away the guilt with a wave of his hand.

Because he was usually as quiet as a mouse, or it would be more accurate to say that no one ever caught him doing bad things, he was pretty sure the staff and his mother wouldn't suspect him. Instead, they would first think that a maid helped herself behind everyone's back or something along these lines. Then, maybe afterward, they would turn their gazes toward him. Well, if that ever were to happen, he just had to pretend to be asleep at the time, which no one would doubt, and he should be free to go.

Before leaving the kitchen, Gabriel decided to at least clean up the mess he made while eating and hide the pie away. The kitchen staff could always bake another apple pie and give it to his mother in the late afternoon. As long as she ate some during the day, she should be satisfied.

Gabriel fled the kitchen with a guilty conscience but a contented smile on his face. However, as he walked through the corridors, he started to feel nauseous, his heart jumping to his throat. Did he perhaps overeat?

Soon enough, his body began to feel strange, his skin becoming overly warm as if it had been set ablaze. His head also felt heavy, too heavy for his neck to shoulder. Yet, he was still full of vigor, feeling like he could run a marathon or two despite the dizziness.

Massaging his temples, he glanced out the window and thought that going outside to breathe fresh air would help to alleviate the pain. So he did just that, veering left instead of going straight to his room. Besides, the garden was lovely in the early morning, with the dew still lingering on the flowers, sparkling like a thousand stars.

It had been a while since the last time he had taken in the sight.

The garden was vast but well maintained. Amid the various flowers, pebbled paths wandered about through the white roses, leading to a pond overflowing with pinkish lotus. Colorful koi fishes lazily swam around in the clear water while some frogs stood on the lotus leaves, croaking their morning song.

Gabriel wanted to walk to the stone bench near the pond, thinking of lying on it and wait for his nausea to recede. But somewhere along the way, everything around him became blurry, and he lost balance, falling head first onto the paved path.

Suddenly, his breathing became heavier, and his ċhėst started to hurt, tightening as though it was clamped in a vice.

And it was at that moment, when Gabriel began to panic, that he heard loud voices. It appeared that his mother was quarreling with someone, something that often occurred lately. But right now, he did not think of this. All he wanted was to call for someone's help.

Only, his voice didn't come out no matter how many times he opened his mouth to scream. It was stuck in his throat. In a way, it felt as if he had lost the strength to even speak, rendering him mute.

Refusing to give up, he painfully lifted his head to glance at the window where the voices originated, hoping he would be able to draw his mother's attention. Maybe she would glance down and see him; maybe she would realize something was wrong with her boy.

But in the end, all Gabriel's efforts were vain. His mother never noticed him, and all he ended up seeing were white hands getting closer to his mother's frail shoulders. He could not warn her, and she was pushed from behind the next instant, falling from the third floor.

His mother let out a blood-curdling scream, but it was already too late. Enclosing the garden was an iron fence with sharp arrows, and she fell on it with a loud thud. The arrows pierced through her body, leaving gaping holes in her torso. Blood gushed out, and the white rose turned deep red.

It was then that Gabriel's world shattered. Still, he despairingly tried to crawl to his mother, who was gasping for air. But blood kept flooding her throat and lungs, making it impossible to breathe. She was drowning.

Deep down, he knew he wouldn't make it. So. Gabriel stretched his trembling hand toward his mother despite the distance that still separated them. Finally, he managed to utter a few broken syllables.

"M-mom."

The words bȧrėly had the time to leave his mouth that his hand dropped to the ground again and everything blackened, turning pitch-black.

.

.

Soon after, a nurse entered his room, and the first thing he did was ask where his mother was. The uncomfortable smile she gave him was enough of an answer.

His mother hadn't made it.

Later, Gabriel discovered that he survived only because the gardener had found him, having arrived ahead of schedule. The man didn't idle and called the ambulance over right away, but his mother's body had already started to grow cold and stiff.

The gardener brought the paramedics to him without delay, and Gabriel was admitted to the hospital just in time. A few more dozen minutes, and it wasn't sure he would have survived, not without complications at least.

He was told he survived because he decided to go to the garden instead of returning to his bedroom. Who knows if someone would have discovered him in time had he gone back to sleep. Of course, Gabriel wanted to thank the gardener after leaving the hospital. However, he learned that the man had resigned and no one knew where he went afterward.

The people around the house said that the gardener was in shock after discovering the collapsed young master and the lady's corpse, and he needed time to recover. They said he couldn't step inside the garden anymore, the horrible memories sending him in a panic every time he tried. It also meant he couldn't do his job anymore.

Well, now Gabriel wondered if that was the truth. Whether or not the gardener left on his own volition was a mystery.

In this story, the house staff spouted more lies than truths, discrediting everything he said to the police officers, starting with his mother's scream. No one heard anything, and according to them, the morning had been calm and peaceful. So, maybe the boy imagined it? It wouldn't be surprising considering how muddle-headed he was at the time.

Another maid also stated that his mother was the one who had baked the pie. The lady had told her that she felt like cooking something her son loved today. However, the boy ate it ahead of time while the lady left for the washroom. When she came back and realized what had happened, she told the maid to get rid of what was left of the pie. Though she found the order to be a little odd, the maid did as told.

When many people's lies were similar but not too much, they often became what the others perceived as the truth.

The only one whose testimony differed significantly from the other staff members was the gardener, but he had arrived later than everyone and thus hadn't been there at the time of the events.

And Gabriel's mother did have a reputation of a mental case, being overly possessive of her husband and son. There was a rumor circulating among the people who knew the couple; it was commonly known that she had lost a few screws over the years because of her husband's lack of affection. Her husband put work before her, which didn't settle well with that obsessive-compulsive woman.

Though his mother indeed tended to be strict and overprotective, Gabriel never once thought she was crazy. But what were a kid's words worth? He didn't know better, and even if he was thirteen years old at the time, it was still too young in the ȧduŀts' eyes. He couldn't possibly see the truth, much less comprehend it, unlike them.

There was one thing they all seemed to have forgotten, though; he wouldn't stay a child forever. Now, Gabriel was an ȧduŀt, and he wasn't planning to lay low. He would not accept everything with a nod as he did as a boy.

No, not anymore. Not in this timeline.

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