All he could hear was the rain. It pounded the dark windows in waves, as if threatening to cave in the rooftops and drown him. Gabriel welcomed the rain, and he did so with more sincerity than he would have guessed. The rain was soothing as well as deafening. It covered the Earth so completely, and Gabriel liked to think it could somehow cover his past. The darkness was equally welcomed, it was not dismal but beautiful. Darkness, he thought, had been given a undeserved bad reputation. The ever-cliché dark and stormy night comforted him more than any sunshiny day ever could. It was like a soft lullaby that allowed him to drift off into the closest thing to sleep he could achieve. But Gabriel had not truly slept in years.
His body was special; like his mind. Sleep deprivation did not affect him nearly as much as it would an average person, but cell regeneration could not subside the silent screams that tortured him night after night. He read incessantly, trying to block out the real world, but sooner or later everything called to remembrance the monster he really was. He was Prometheus, chained to himself to suffer for eternity as every day he was tortured and healed, yet every day the pain returned to tear open new wounds all over again. He was Hamlet, on the verge of suicide and hopelessly deferring what he knew he had to do. He was Faust, making a deal with the devil to find power and knowledge, yet ultimately losing his soul to an evil that was too terrible to ever mount a rescue. Whenever he considered suicide he dismissed it immediately; death was too good for him. He deserved to suffer every cry and nightmare and, in any case, for all intents and purposes, he was already dead.
But there was one respite. There was one small, ever-precious beacon of light that could begin heal the scars that covered his soul. She could somehow find room in herself to trust him, and miraculously, to love him. He stopped wondering about this a long time ago, because he could not come up with an answer. He had never revealed his past to her, and the fear of her ever discovering it augmented the pain. Fear; how appropriate he would suffer the same fate as his countless victims. Briefly, he wondered if God had sent her to him, as living proof that anyone could be redeemed. Now he laughed at the thought. Ludicrous, really. So he stopped trying, and tried to devote his time to caring for her. It wasn't the cell regeneration that kept him alive, it was his love for her and nothing else. Gabriel dragged himself up from his oak desk where he had been lazily fixing a Rolex. Stupid watch. He couldn't pinpoint when he started hating watches, but restoring timepieces was currently his only source of income, so he would fix them. He pulled off the multi-lens that he didn't really need and dropped it too heavily on the desk; one of the lens cracked. Without sparing a second glance he walked out, kicking off his shoes to slip through the hallway unnoticed; he must not wake her. It was always an effort to get her bedroom door open because it creaked very noisily and she always kept it closed while she slept, no matter how hot or humid the weather. The light of the full moon spilled into her bedroom; it was so soft, just like her. She had saved him, because love, no matter how small, was the most powerful force in the universe. It dwarfed hatred and violence as a star does to a planet; even and especially Earth. Earth, where every person had ever or would ever live, crammed onto a tiny planet humanity delighted in abusing. He fell down that road of hatred and murder looking to be significant, but it was only now that he realized that everyone, from the most famous celebrity to the mundane office worker, was insignificant. Everyone had maybe eighty, ninety years if they were lucky, to live, and did anyone make a difference? Maybe? Yes? No? Not really. The only thing that makes humanity truly special was the capacity for love, and he had rejected it profoundly. Ironic.
Tomorrow he would sit down with the one he loved, the only person on the planet that loved him back, and break her heart in such a way that she would never, ever recover. He would look into her eyes and wilfully tear her life in two. It would be the pinnacle of his countless acts of evil. She would never be able to reproduce the love she had for him; he would steal it and destroy it. Gabriel was underweight because he had vomited so often at the slightest thought of it. He was empty.
Gabriel dropped to his knees and begged whoever might be listening to let him drown. But the rain, the soft, soothing rain had stopped, and the noises of the busy city could now clearly be heard. Tomorrow he would find the only man who could kill him and beg, get down on his knees if necessary, for death.