Rose Garden: Chapter 03

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The faint clink of a small sound stirred Kyle from his sleep. A white plate had been placed on the tea table. When he lifted his head, his eyes met those of the man who had set it down. The man quickly looked away and left the room without a word. Still seated in the rocking chair, Kyle clenched his trembling fingers and began to shake. He couldn’t hold it in, tears slid silently down his cheek.

He hadn’t imagined even his one place of solace, his dreams, could be intruded upon by that demon. The bitter frustration overflowed, and tears streamed freely. Even the rose left on the table filled him with loathing. He swept it off with a flick of his fingers, plate and all. With a loud clatter, the plate shattered on the floor, and the flower instantly withered and crumbled into dry brown fragments. At the same time, his hunger eased. That involuntary sensation only deepened his descent into the pit called despair.

The sun would soon set. The light brushing against his feet was already growing dim, and Kyle shivered in the chill. Very soon, the monsters would gather outside the house, drawn to devour him. All the glass windows that once let in sunlight would be obscured, blocked out by terrifying, grotesque creatures born of darkness. Part of him wondered if letting himself be eaten wouldn’t be the easier way out. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

He had once heard a story about an angel who’d been eaten by monsters. It was a tale over a hundred years old. A heavenly being who had fallen to earth, wounded from battle with demons, was captured and devoured. They tore at him in a frenzy, and when they were done, not even a single feather remained. If he stayed seated like this, he too would surely be ripped to pieces. There would be nothing left not even a strand of hair and he would vanish from the world completely.

Just the thought of it filled him with sorrow, and fresh tears welled up again. The lifespan of an angel was typically around a thousand years, though it varied slightly. Unless struck down by a tragic accident, an angel could live that long. Even if their physical vessel was destroyed, their soul could be reborn again and again.

But not if they were devoured by demons or monsters. In that case, there would be no reincarnation only complete erasure, extinguished in agony. Kyle buried his face in his hands. Two hundred years had passed since he was born into the heavens as an angel, just two hundred years. Half of that time had been spent chained to the earth, crying every day among monsters.

There surely wasn’t an angel more miserable than he. Even the one who had been eaten must be better off, they at least hadn’t been left to suffer, to wander and anguish like Kyle did.

He shut his eyes. Right now, only sleep offered the tiniest sliver of peace. That demon couldn’t reach into his memories, not yet.

A castle in the sky, overflowing with beautiful blooms. Kyle had tended the flowers that had been his job. Don’t dismiss them just because they were “only flowers.” Roses differed in temperament depending on their color, and they were notoriously temperamental. Coaxing them into blooming required more than just care it required skill. Kyle had known every flower in the castle. He had taken pride in the role he’d been given, even if the other angels scoffed and called him a “floral gatekeeper.”

Even for a low-ranking angel like him, one whose only ability was to make flowers bloom, the Archangel Agatha had been kind. Normally, those of different ranks wouldn’t associate, but Agatha had spoken to him often. Eventually, he had been granted permission to serve at her side, managing her personal affairs. Out of all the angels, she had taken a special liking to him, always bringing him along wherever she went. To stand beside Archangel Agatha, basking in the envious stares of others those had been days of pure bliss.

And yet and yet, and yet… With his eyes still closed, Kyle bit down hard on his lower lip. To go from the heavenly castle to this squalid, filthy house to sit beside that vile, repugnant demon, why was he now forced to endure such a wretched existence?

The feeling that the sun had vanished grew stronger. Cold crept up from his feet. Any moment now, the monsters would infiltrate the house and devour him. There would be no rebirth but at least no more pain either. Perhaps this, too, was fate. A strange calm settled over him. Just a little more… If I can endure just a little more…

The glass windows began to rattle violently. The monsters had arrived, come to set him free, to devour him whole. He had resolved not to run, not to hide, but despite himself, Kyle opened his eyes just a sliver and at the sight before him, he let out a shrill scream.

“Gyaaaahh!”

Even knowing, even expecting it, Kyle found it unbearable to look directly at that repulsive scene.

Eyes eyes eyes, plastered across the glass window. Countless eyes. Twisted, malformed monsters cloaked in the dim light, their grotesque faces pressed up against the glass, all of them leering, licking their lips, staring hungrily at their prey.

All the resolve he had built up was obliterated in an instant. He didn’t want to expose himself to those things. He hadn’t endured a hundred years beside a demon just to be devoured by monsters like that. He had held on because he believed someday, someday the heavens would come to reclaim him…

A thin, hairy wrist appeared at his feet. A guttural croak like a bloated frog reverberated hideously in his ears. Kyle kicked the chair back and sprang to his feet, bolting from the room heading straight for the living room, where the demon always was at this hour.

He flung the door open roughly. The man seated at the table in the far corner turned around. Black eyes. Black hair. The demon was still fiddling with something on the cluttered tabletop. But Kyle didn’t care what the demon was doing.

At the opposite end of the room, as far away from the demon as possible, stood a rocking chair identical to the one in the sunlit room. Kyle sat down in it, pulled the blanket over his legs, and closed his eyes. He sniffled. The air was faintly stale. Tainted by the breath of the demon who lived here. No matter how repulsive it was, he couldn’t leave. He had to stay near the demon. At least until the monsters lurking in the Oliva Forest returned to their dens at dawn.

During the day, while the sun was high, monsters couldn’t approach the house. Even if they did, they never made it past the outer fence. But once night fell and darkness took over, they crept inside. If they encountered him alone, powerless and stripped of his angelic strength, he’d be devoured. But if he stayed near the demon, they wouldn’t touch him. Even as a half-breed born of a human and a demon, the demon’s power far surpassed that of the roaming beasts. While he was in the demon’s presence, the monsters treated him as the demon’s property and left him alone.

A scraping noise echoed nearby. Just being near the demon made Kyle’s skin crawl, and the petty sounds he made only grated on his nerves more. For the past several days, the demon had been constantly producing those unsettling noises.

Kyle furrowed his brow and kept his eyes shut. Then came a loud don don pounding at the front door. Probably a clever monster playing tricks, Kyle thought, and ignored it. But the demon stood up and stared at him.

“I want you to come with me.”

Kyle exaggerated his refusal, shaking his head with force. He glared back at the black eyes watching him, loathing the idea of doing anything the demon asked.

The demon stood there a moment, looking at a loss, then abruptly turned away and left the room. Panic flared in Kyle’s chest. It was nighttime. If the demon left his sight, the monsters would come for him. Where could he be going, why would he leave him alone now? Until now, no matter what the day or situation, the demon had always stayed close after sunset.

The moment the demon’s presence vanished from the room, the air around him began to shift restless, buzzing. The monsters had caught the scent of an angel. Kyle jumped to his feet and ran after the demon.

…Though "ran after" was a stretch he only had to open the door to spot the demon’s back standing at the entryway.

And then, something burst in from beyond the front door. A small, dark figure barreled toward him. Kyle thought it was a monster and let out a startled cry.

“Kyle!”

The sensation that clung to his abdomen was nothing like the presence of something dreadful, but instead warm and sweet. It took him a moment to realize that the one who had thrown himself at him was Snair, the child who had wandered into their lives a few days ago. The child’s clear brown eyes, reminiscent of a puppy’s, looked straight up at him as his small hand reached out and took Kyle’s.

“Good evening.”

Snair’s greeting was delivered with a hint of awe, his eyes beginning to glisten. He was staring entranced by the angel’s beauty, which had once been renowned even in the heavens.

“It’s not ‘good evening,’” Warren snapped back.

The demon grabbed Snair by the collar and pulled him away from Kyle. The boy hunched his shoulders, peeking up at the demon with wide, questioning eyes.

“But…”

“No buts. I told you the very first time—you are not to come here in the evening. Why can’t you follow the instructions adults give you? Now I understand exactly why Doris has such a hard time with you. If you keep acting selfishly, I’ll undo the spell I put on the northern path to keep it from letting you through.”

The demon scolded Snair, who lowered his head, looking pitiful even to an onlooker. Kyle, still in shock from realizing that the child and the demon were familiar with each other, silently listened to their exchange.

“But… my grandmother gets mad at me…” Snair weakly offered an excuse. The demon sighed and let his shoulders droop.

“When I told you not to come in the evening, it wasn’t for no reason. It was for your sake. At your age, you don’t want to be eaten by monsters, do you?”

“But…”

As the child shrank further and further into himself, the demon went on.

“Once evening comes, I can’t leave this house, so I can’t walk you home. That’s why you’ll be staying the night. I’m sure Doris is worried about you, and I feel bad about that, but there’s no helping it. I’ll take you home first thing in the morning.”

Snair bit his lip and looked down.

“It’s fine, I can go home by myself.”

He muttered in a sulking tone.

“There are lots of monsters outside.”

The demon teased, trying to scare the child. This was when Kyle saw a glimpse of the demon’s true nature.

“It’s fine! I’m not scared.”

The demon’s face twisted into a malicious grin, and he leaned in to peer into Snair’s face.

“It’s not like the monsters from before, the Spritz ones. There are much scarier ones.”

Snair began to tremble and clung to Kyle. Kyle glared at the demon, furious for scaring the innocent child. Yet, the demon simply smiled with ease.

“If you’ve learned your lesson, then don’t come here in the evening again. I’ll welcome you anytime during the day.”

The demon lightly pressed his hand on Snair’s head before heading into the living room. Kyle placed a hand gently on the small back of the child and followed the demon. Snair came over to the rocking chair next to him, ignoring the demon, who was busy making clicking noises in the corner of the room.

“What are you doing?” Snair peeked curiously at Kyle’s hands.

“I’m reading a poetry collection.”

Kyle angled the book so that Snair could see the spine clearly.

“This is a book by a poet named Järgel. I never knew such beautiful expressions could exist on the earth.”

Snair glanced at the book with interest for a brief moment, but then muttered, “It’s too hard to understand,” before turning away from the poetry book. He seemed more intrigued by Kyle’s hands resting on his lap, staring at them with curiosity.

“Your hands are really beautiful. They’re like Henri’s mother’s hands. Oh, Henri is a kid in my grade at school, and his mother is really beautiful, with hands like yours, Kyle.”

Kyle smiled at the honest child.

“Do you have a job, Kyle?”

Not understanding the question, Kyle tilted his head.

“Well, Warren works in the village, right? Don’t you do anything?”

Kyle didn’t recognize the name at first. After thinking for a moment, he remembered that it was the demon’s name, an abominable name. A name he had wanted to forget. The name of the demon who had cast him down to the depths of hell.

“Don’t angels not need to work?” Snair’s innocent question made Kyle pause. “Then why is Warren working? Do demons have to work? But a working demon is kind of interesting, don’t you think?”

Work… Why should he have to do such a thing in the human world? Back in the heavens, his only role had been to make flowers bloom that was it.

“I don’t have to do anything.”

Kyle answered with pride, puffing out his chest. But Snair tilted his head, a frown forming as he seemed unconvinced. The demon, hunched over at the table in the corner, was absorbed in whatever he was doing. Kyle drew the child closer to him and whispered softly in his ear.

“Do you know that demon?”

“Warren? Yeah, I know him.”

Snair replied without hesitation. It seemed the child had no idea how terrifying that was.

“That’s a demon, you know. Aren’t you afraid of him?”

The small head tilted vaguely in thought.

“I was scared when I first saw him… but Warren is kind, so I’m not afraid anymore.”

“That demon, kind!?”

Kyle trembled with laughter.

“Snair, you’ve been deceived by that demon. He’s not kind not in the slightest. Even if he pretends to be, he’s still a demon, a creature from the depths of the earth. Deceiving people is in his very nature, and there’s not a shred of conscience in him.”

“But…”

“Whose words do you trust more the demon’s, or an angel’s?”

When he looked into those brown eyes, the child dropped his gaze, troubled.

"He's the son of Kesba, the fifteenth son of the Demon King himself—a demon said to be among the most wicked of all. Evil runs through his very bones."

Kyle spoke earnestly, hoping to get the child to understand even a little of the demon’s true nature.

“But Warren said he’s half-human.”

Snair clasped his hands together and defied the angel’s words.

“He may be half-human, yes. That might mean he has a shorter lifespan than a pure-blooded demon. But the evil within him is no different.”

“Still… Warren is kind.”

Kyle pressed a hand to his forehead. It seemed the child had already been brainwashed by the demon. If it had come to this, mere words wouldn’t be enough to lead Snair back to the right path. Poor thing, he thought, gently stroking the boy’s small head with a flicker of pity.

“How unfortunate, that even after all I’ve told you, you still can’t see the truth. You’re just another innocent victim of that demon.”

Snair, lips pursed in a pout, left Kyle’s side and unbelievably walked right over to the demon sitting in the corner of the room. A wave of defeat surged in Kyle’s chest, but he reminded himself the child had been brainwashed. There was nothing he could do.

“What are you making?”

Even with his eyes closed, Kyle could still hear them. When he glanced over, Snair was leaning an elbow on the edge of the table, legs swinging, chatting with the demon. Kyle tried to return to the poetry collection, but their voices kept slipping through.

“A brooch.”

“It’s really pretty. It looks like a real rose.”

“It’s just a rough wooden carving now, but once I shape it properly and paint it, it’ll look just like the real thing.”

“Wow… I want to try, too.”

“Go ahead.”

The child borrowed a small piece of wood and a pointed blade from the demon and began carving. The unpleasant scratching sound became a duet, and Kyle sat there listening, a storm of complicated emotions brewing inside.

The wall clock rang out eight times. Kyle lifted his head from the poetry collection and confirmed that both the time and chimes were accurate. His drifting gaze met the demon’s. Kyle lowered his face and sighed. The most painful time of the day was about to begin again.

“Snair, down the hall to the right there’s a washbasin. Go wash your hands and face. It’s almost time for bed.”

“Ehhh, but I’m not sleepy yet.”

“Just go. It’s bedtime in this house.”

Once the child left the room, it was just the two of them. Kyle closed his book, folded the lap blanket, and prepared to leave the room. When Snair returned, Kyle said nothing, just stood and walked out. The demon followed behind. Kyle washed his face and limbs at the basin, then the demon followed, preparing himself for bed. Not a single word was exchanged, none were necessary. That had been the nightly routine for decades now.

The demon and Kyle brought the child from the living room to the bedroom. It was a tiny room on the second floor, just big enough for two beds. Probably once a child’s room, as the walls were covered in graffiti scratched in with a knife.

The demon set the lamp he had been carrying on a small table between the two beds.

“There are only two beds, so you’ll have to sleep with either me or Kyle. Is that okay?”

The child gave a small nod. As always, Kyle took the right bed, the demon the left. Snair timidly slipped under the covers of Kyle’s bed. Kyle closed his eyes, satisfied that the child had made the correct choice by coming to his side. At first, Snair lay still, but before long, he clung tightly to Kyle’s chest.

The child's embrace made the cramped bed feel even more confining, yet the warmth of another body brought Kyle a strange sense of peace. He gently pressed a kiss to the child’s hair, which smelled of dust and sweat. If even the tiniest spark of angelic power still lingered within me, I’d use it to show this child a happy dream.

Snair looked up from his chest, blinking several times before asking, “Hey… why don’t you turn off the lamp?”

“There are lots of monsters around here. Sometimes they sneak into this room late at night. The light keeps them away.”

At first, Snair seemed bothered by the brightness, but soon enough he adjusted and began to breathe softly in sleep.

A poor, ill-fated child with reddish-brown hair. Kyle wondered how the demon had come to know him in the first place. No, what he really wanted to know was the demon’s true intent. What wicked scheme was he planning by lulling this child into trust? Or was he simply grooming him so he could devour his soul later? Kyle had heard the stories how souls that trusted a demon, only to be betrayed and fall into despair, were said to be exquisitely delicious.

Just as Kyle was drifting off, still holding the child in his arms, a sudden rustling noise woke him. He turned toward the sound and froze. In the dark corners of the room, just beyond the reach of the lamplight, something was moving. Shadows slithered in both the far right and far left corners.

Calgri. Creatures resembling dogs, with far too many limbs and long purple tongues that dripped with pale, bluish saliva. Their stench was like raw sewage. Just looking at them was enough to make one sick.

They had slipped into the room before, but because they were cowardly, they never approached so long as the lamp stayed lit. All Kyle had to do was endure this unpleasant noise.

And yet… the fact that monsters were entering the room at all was proof enough that the monster-warding charm’s effect was weakening.

Still, as long as the light stayed on, things would be fine for tonight, at least. Kyle shut his eyes again. But then something grabbed his ankle. He kicked out in panic. Pulling up the sheet, he saw a Calgri crouched by the bed. No matter how many times Kyle kicked at it, the creature kept greedily shoving its birdlike, three-taloned claws into the sheets, ignoring the child completely and aiming only for him.

Soon, four or five Calgri had gathered around the bed.

A cold sweat ran down Kyle’s spine. It was clear now this wasn’t something he could put off until tomorrow. Even these weak monsters, if they ganged up on him, would tear him to pieces.

The child slept soundly, unaware. Kyle slowly slipped out from under the covers and lowered his feet to the floor, steeling himself.

The moment his feet touched down, a high-pitched gii-gii scream pierced the air as the Calgri latched onto both his legs. Kyle shook them off and stumbled toward the demon’s bed, collapsing into it.

“Ugh!”

The demon woke with a jolt. One of the Calgri still clung to Kyle’s right leg, and the demon, seeing this, murmured an incantation. The monsters instantly retreated to the corners of the room, hissing their lingering discontent with soft, whimpering cries.

Kyle reached down to his calves, fingers brushing the countless claw marks.

Tears welled up from the pain, and as he trembled, the demon leaned down and licked the wounds with great care. Wherever the demon’s saliva touched, the bleeding stopped and the pain dulled. Only the scars remained.

Raising his head from Kyle’s legs, the demon pulled him into the sheets. He knew why the angel had been attacked. He knew and he knew exactly what needed to be done.

Kyle cast a quick glance at the bed beside him. Though there had been a loud noise, there was no sign that Snair had woken up. Of all days, it had to happen when the child was here… Even if he regretted it, there was nothing he could do.

The demon began unbuttoning Kyle’s clothes from the top, one by one. The thought of the humiliating act about to begin filled Kyle with sorrow, and he wept quietly with his face buried in the demon’s pillow. The demon’s fingers roamed his naked body without missing a spot, his neck, his chest, his sides. Pushed face-down against the sheets, Kyle trembled at the repulsive sensation of the demon’s tongue sliding over his back. It meticulously, almost reverently, traced the marks where Kyle’s wings had once been. The obsessive attention made him fear that the demon’s toxins would seep in through those old wounds and turn him into a demon himself.

The demon's vulgar hand touched Kyle’s symbol of manhood. Kyle couldn’t fathom the mindset of a demon who so eagerly sought these acts. But even if he didn’t understand it, it could all be chalked up to the demon’s “lust.”

Angels might have gender, but they had no sexual desire. Only once in their lifetime, around the age of five hundred when their vitality peaked did they mate with a female angel solely to leave behind a single egg for the next generation. It was a reproductive act and nothing more; there was no bond before or after. One could choose any partner, but typically it would be a female angel of equal rank.

Outside of that rare reproductive period, they felt no sexual urges. Yet every three or four days, the demon would come to him with obvious arousal, rubbing his genitals against him.

It was precisely because the demon’s filthy lust was so foul that it repelled the monsters… Kyle's legs were forced wide in utter despair, reduced to the pose of a defeated creature. The demon’s organ rubbed against the small entrance beneath him and then pushed inside with a slow thrust. As the nauseating act began, Kyle bit down on his lip and endured, waiting for the demon to finish.

With each thrust of the demon’s hips, Kyle’s body shook in small jerks. The moment it released inside him, the monsters that had been lingering around the room vanished in an instant.

Monsters tracked their prey by scent. While the demon’s seed was still inside him, while he reeked of the demon, none of them would approach him during the night. Kyle drew in his bare shoulders with a shiver and sighed. Then he opened his eyes and realized the demon’s black gaze was staring down at him. Panicked, he reached across the bed for the nightwear that had been stripped off him. Just as he caught the edge of the fabric, the demon’s hand knocked it to the floor.

His body was pulled back toward the demon. Once was enough, he wanted no more and tried to escape, but the demon forcefully pinned him down again.

The wicked, lecherous demon licked every inch of Kyle’s body before invading the tight space again. Knowing it was inevitable didn’t stop the tears. Powerless to resist, Kyle sobbed quietly even as he was violated.

No matter how many kisses it gave him, no matter how gently it stroked his hair, Kyle could not fathom any meaning behind these actions.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Morning broke, and the room filled with bright light. Bathed in dazzling sunlight and shivering from the cold, Snair awoke. Most of the bedcover had slipped onto the floor, and only half his body remained wrapped in the sheets. He sneezed atchoo, atchoo twice in a row, then wiped his nose vigorously with the back of his hand.

The angel, Kyle, was no longer in bed. Perhaps he’d woken up first and gone out of the room Snair thought, sitting blankly atop the bed. As he idly glanced around, his eyes landed on something golden spilling out from the sheets of the neighboring bed. Slipping off his own, he drew closer to that glinting color. Just as he’d thought it was Kyle, asleep in Warren’s bed. The angel’s pale, delicate shoulder peeked from beneath the sheets, and Warren was gently stroking it with a tender touch.

Their eyes met. Snair opened his mouth to say “Good morning,” but Warren raised a finger to his lips. Snair quickly shut his mouth. Warren pointed to Kyle and smiled softly.

“Go wash your face downstairs. I’ll be there shortly.”

He whispered, and Snair nodded. He carefully tiptoed down the stairs so as not to wake Kyle with the sound of his footsteps.

Remembering the sight of Kyle asleep in Warren’s bed brought a wave of relief. If they truly hated each other, they wouldn’t be sleeping together like that. And Warren wouldn’t have looked at Kyle with such gentle eyes.

Last night, Kyle had called Warren a “bad demon,” whispering such cruel things it made Snair sad just to hear them. Angels weren’t supposed to lie but no matter how hard he tried, Snair couldn’t believe Warren was a “bad demon.” When Kyle had whispered those things into his ear, he didn’t seem like an angel at all. In fact, it made Snair wonder if maybe Kyle was the one trying to deceive him.

After washing his face, Snair was walking down the hall when he ran into Warren, descending the stairs mid-yawn. Having gone to wash his face after Snair, Warren now set a glass of water and some bread down in front of him as he flipped through Kyle’s poetry book in the living room.

“Sorry, this is all I’ve got. Still, it should tide you over.”

Snair bit into the bread, and Warren sat down across from him at the table to eat as well. When Snair finished, Warren cleared the dishes once, then returned with a white plate. He placed it on the table, revealing a heap of colorful roses piled high.

“What’s this…?”

Snair pointed at the flowers, and Warren gave a nod.

“It’s Kyle’s meal. He can only eat flowers.”

“Huh… So he really is an angel.”

The kind-faced demon laughed amusedly.

“What, you didn’t believe it? Kyle told you himself, didn’t he that he’s an angel?”

“He did, but I thought angels were more like…”

The image of an angel Snair held came from church murals those majestic figures with large wings spread beside the Virgin Mary, their faces filled with compassion as they watched over the world. Kyle was certainly beautiful, unearthly even, but to so openly call someone as gentle as Warren “evil,” and without hesitation… it made Snair feel like Kyle, angel or not, didn’t really understand anything at all.

“I thought angels were kind to everyone, always smiling,” Snair said. “But Kyle’s different. He gets mad really easily, and cries all the time. And I’ve never even seen his wings…”

“Kyle doesn’t have wings,” Warren murmured quietly.

“He doesn’t? But he’s an angel…”

“He used to have them. Big, pure white wings they were beautiful. But he lost them. Besides, even among angels there are ranks, and their personalities can be all over the place. When you think about it that way, maybe angels aren’t all that different from humans.”

“Huh…”

Warren stood up and gave Snair a pat on the back.

“Come on, let’s get you home. Doris is probably worried sick, hasn’t slept a wink. Before I head to work, I’ll walk you home and help you apologize.”

“…Okay…”

Warren leaned in close, his face filling Snair’s vision.

“And don’t think saying ‘I don’t wanna get yelled at by Doris’ is gonna get you off the hook. You brought this on yourself. You came by in the evening, even though you knew I wasn’t supposed to have visitors then. That’s why I couldn’t walk you home.”

When Snair reluctantly nodded, Warren ruffled his small head with one big hand.

“If you’re not scared, we can fly to the northern path. How about it?”

The word fly made Snair’s eyes sparkle.

“We’re gonna fly?!”

“If you’re not scared. Last time you passed out midair, remember?”

“Whoa let’s fly, let’s fly!”

Warren gave a pleased smile at the sight of the excited child.

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