Regiphobia

The Rage

Gabe was fuming.

Now, you may look at those three words and assume he was red in the face, smoke practically pouring out of his ears, yelling at the nearest person to him. That wasn't Gabe's fuming. His version of fuming was much, much colder.

An advisor rambled on and on about something Gabe couldn't care less about. He kept his face devoid of emotion. Blank. Perfect. When the advisor stopped talking, Gabe simply said, "Do whatever you think is best and get out."

The small man nodded, grabbed his papers, and rushed out. Gabe closed his eyes, and took in a few deep breaths.

Then he pulled a knife from his drawer and threw it at the wall by his door. It lodged in the wall, sticking straight out. He rested his hands on his desk. More deep breaths. No matter how much he wanted to confront Goda, he had to wait. Wait until his leg was better. Wait until things had calmed down.

"Just breathe, Gabriel, everything is fine," he mumbled to himself. Then he forced the emotionless mask back on and walked over to the wall. He grabbed the grip of the knife and yanked it out. He moved back to his desk and dropped it in the top drawer. He had at least one knife in all of the rooms without security cameras. All the rooms that were his and Goda's.

Oh, Goda. His angel. His darling, his doll, his Perfection. He'd do anything for him, and yet, here he was. Betrayed. Again. He always found out what Goda hid from him, and Goda kept hiding things. He'd learn, one day. Gabe would teach him.

No matter what, Goda was his. He would have to learn. He would be Perfect.

Gabe left his study, making his way downstairs. Third floor, second, first, basement. He pulled out a key and walked to the last flight of stairs. Unlocking the door, he reminded himself to stay calm. He shut the door behind him. He walked downstairs. Right into the jail.

He walked through the halls of mostly empty cells. Through the maze of past suffering to the most secure cell they had. Two guards stood outside, but they opened the door for him as soon as they saw him. Through there, there were two more doors with two more locks. He went through both with ease, as the only one with unrestricted access to every room in the palace.

Inside this cell was that man. A man with red hair and dark eyes. A man with an angel for a son. A man who deserved everything that would happen to him.

"Your Majesty," Richard said when he walked up to the bars, not even having to look to see who it was. 

"Richard," Gabe replied, his voice cold.

"Here for the same reason as last time?"

"You know the offer. Tell us everything and we'll simply give you a life sentence with a chance for parole. If you wait until the day of the trial, you'll be getting a much, much worse punishment."

"I didn't do it. Just let me go."

"Security cameras, witness reports, and my fiancé say otherwise."

"...He's a liar, and you know it too. I didn't do anything. It was probably that awful guard."

"Suit yourself," Gabe said, turning on his heel and walking out. He'd come down here the day before as well, outlining the terms and asking for his cooperation. He was responsible for his own downfall.

The king looked to the guards, "Reduced rations as well tonight." The guards nodded. He turned and started back towards the stairs. Up he went, straight to the first floor. He walked through the armory and out into the hall. Just one door down was the next room he was looking for. One of the locked rooms of his.

Gabe pulled out his keys, grabbing a specific one and opening the door. He stepped inside and locked the door behind him. Inside, after a short hallway, was a giant, museum-like room. On every wall was a photo, sometimes several, accompanied by a small description. Each picture was of Goda after one of their sessions. Often looking drowsy, dazed, or disoriented. Often needy and mumbling.

Often bloody.

Gabe smiled. This room always calmed him down when the world enraged him. He wanted to give up the whole apologizing thing, but he couldn't, not yet. He had to slowly shorten the time spent doing that and the time between sessions. It would let the temperature slowly rise, and Goda would be none the wiser to the fact he was boiling. That would ease the tension he kept feeling

Tension that he blamed Goda for, every single time. He was believing him more and more each day. He was slowly becoming Perfect. Gabe could control what he wore, when he ate, how he spoke, where he was, and so, so much more. Control was exactly what he wanted. Control was what he needed. Control over a man's life.

He ran gentle fingers over one of the pictures. How pathetic his doll was.

Gabe moved through the room, reminiscing over all these times. All the way back to the first time he ever hurt Goda, when he found out about the suicide attempts. His poor darling, trying to end his life before even meeting him? And then to hide it from him, the only one who would love him? The only one who wouldn't see him and see a disgusting trash heap? Completely unacceptable.

He let out a soft sigh, making his way back to the door to the room. He let himself out, locking the door behind him. No one could know what he was doing to Goda. it wasn't anyone else's right to see Goda this way.

He walked into the great hall and up the stairs. When he was halfway to the third floor, he almost ran into Goda coming down. His crutch slipped and he fell directly into Gabe's arms.

"I wish I could say this is the first time you've fallen for me, but I'll take it," Gabe said, a gentle smile appearing on his face.

"Sorry, I j-just- I slipped-" Goda said quickly, standing back up and looking flustered. He flushed a little at Gabe's teasing.

"It's alright, darling. I was just looking for you, actually," Gabe said, "I'd like to spend some time with you. We haven't had enough of it, with your injuries and all."

"Th-That sounds nice," Goda nodded with a smile. 

"How about a movie?" Being on two different steps brought them much closer to the same height. However, Gabe was still a bit more than a half a foot taller than him. One more step back, then they'd be about level.

"OK," Goda nodded again, looking a little like a bobblehead. Gabe helped Goda stay steady as he turned around and started back up the stairs. Gabe already had a few of his workers getting an old, discarded elevator back into working condition for his fiancé. Anything to make his life a touch easier. 

They made it up to the third floor and into the theater. Gabe walked with one hand on the small of Goda's back, leading him up the ramp and to two near-perfect seats for viewing the screen. "What do you want to watch, darling?" Gabe asked.

"Anything is fine."

Gabe nodded, walking off to tell the worker responsible for putting on movies what they wanted to see. Anything, hm? He had something in mind. A romance. When he got that all set, he walked back to Goda. Their guards positioned themselves on either side of their private box. The king sat beside his fiancé, taking his hand and turning to the screen.

The movie began. It was some cliché romance with a predictable ending and stupid main characters. Gabe couldn't care less about it, but it seemed to keep Goda distracted while he thought and planned.

He'd have to keep up this whole lovey-dovey thing for a while longer, at least until the end of the trial. Then he could start getting Goda scared. Less speaking, more angry glimpses, more humiliation and degradation. Then, he'd have to wait... damn, at least a month, maybe closer to a month and a half. He sighed silently. The closer it was to the wedding, the better.

Gabe turned to Goda. The latter had his eyes trained on the screen. Gabe turned back to the movie and zoned out. Now he was imagining all the pictures in his locked room. Goda was so beautiful, so perfect like that. God, he couldn't wait.

A month and a half. That's all he'd have to wait for.