Winged Falls

//Chapter Fifteen//

Gideon walked down the sidewalk, muttering angrily to himself. His shoulders were hunched as he glared at the ground — this was not where he wanted to be. He should be at a show right now, wowing the audience with his powers. He should be alone in his room, meditating — or better yet, sleeping.

Gideon kicked a small rock on the ground and imagined it as Bill's face. This was all his fault. Why did he care so much about one dumb Avem girl? And why did he have to make Gideon do this; wasn't he the "all-powerful" demon lord? Why did he need Gideon, then?

That thought, at least, was enough to lift some of the frustration hovering around Gideon. Bill needed him — that was a good thing. That meant that maybe Gideon was gaining just a small bit of power over the demon.

Who do you think you're kidding? a part of his brain whispered, a part that seemed to have been growing louder over the past few days. Bill's the one with power over you, not the other way around. Did last night show you nothing?

Gideon gritted his teeth as his mind flashed back to his hours spent tossing and turning, nightmares filling his mind every time he closed his eyes.

He had tried to put off getting rid of Mabel — Gideon had a show to run, after all, and he wanted to remind Bill that he didn't have complete control over him. Gideon's hesitance certainly had nothing to do with the twangs of his conscience that seemed to come whenever he thought of what Bill had ordered him to do.

But Bill Cipher didn't take kindly to being ignored. And so Gideon was punished with a long night of bad dreams, at the end of which Bill appeared and told him in no uncertain terms that Mabel was to be gone by the end of the next day.

Gideon kicked the rock again, and it scuttled off the sidewalk into the road. Would it be worth it to get one of his stagehands to drive him out to that old tourist trap, the Mystery — Shack, was it? That didn't sound quite right, but from what Gideon remembered of the place, it certainly seemed like an old shack. An old shack run by a couple of old hacks.

But no, he was already nearly at the edge of town. Gideon could walk. And . . . the less people around, the better.

"Calendars, mugs, t-shirts, and more, they've got it all at the copier store!" Gideon looked up, more startled than he'd like to admit by a loud voice coming out of the woods. "I'm serious, dawgs, the copier store is great!"

"Yeah, whatever," another voice said. "Let's just hurry up and get these signs made so we can get back to the Emporium."

"Well, we'll still have to hang them!" The first two voices had been unfamiliar, but Gideon knew this one. He froze. "Soos, does the copier store sell glitter? Maybe I can sneak some on just a couple of the signs."

Mabel was here. Gideon tried to process what this meant: he wouldn't have to go out to the cruddy tourist trap, for one. He couldn't get rid of her right now, not with her friends around, but this was the best opportunity he'd had since she had come to his show. This was good; he could get rid of her and get back to his life.

So why was his stomach turning with revulsion?

Gideon pushed his sudden bout of nausea away, realizing that they'd be out of the trees at any moment. He rushed into the alley between two buildings, moving as far back into the shadows as he could.

It wasn't a minute before four people walked past, all talking cheerfully among themselves. Gideon pressed his back up against the wall, barely daring to breathe as he watched them. Mabel was there, of course, and with her were the others who'd been with her at Gideon's show: the redhead, the boy with the glasses, and the large man who looked like a gopher.