The Streets of Solace [Casablanca]
Gabriel stepped out of the old church and took a deep breath. The morning air was cool, and the sun was just coming up. He looked around, feeling calm after the quiet time in church. Every time he came outside, it felt like the world was brighter, like there was something new to see.
He walked through the small village, hands in his pockets, looking for a bite to eat. The smell of fresh bread caught his attention. He used a bit of his leftover money to buy a loaf and some apples from a kind baker who always gave him extra. Gabriel thanked her with a small smile and started eating an apple as he walked.
Once he finished, he felt ready to go back to the place he called home: St. Mary's Orphanage. The winding streets led him past busy markets until he reached the iron gate. He was raised at this orphanage, where he had lived with the other children since he was young. They were like his little brothers and sisters, and he was the big brother who watched over them.
As soon as he stepped inside, a group of kids ran over, calling, "Big brother! Big brother!"
Gabriel knelt down as they crowded around him, tugging on his jacket and holding his hands. "Did you bring something for us, Gabe?" asked little Rosie with big, hopeful eyes.
He smiled and pulled the bread out of his pocket. "Of course. We can share it."
The children cheered, and Gabriel felt a warm happiness. For him, they were more than just kids from the orphanage—they were his family. And as they all sat together, laughing and eating the bread, Gabriel knew that being there for them was the most important thing in his life.
After sharing the bread with the children, Gabriel got up and walked down the hall to greet the person who had raised him, Sister Margaret. She was a kind but quiet woman who had been at St. Mary's Orphanage for as long as he could remember.
Gabriel knocked softly on her office door, and she looked up from her desk with a gentle smile. "Good morning, Gabriel."
"Good morning, Sister Margaret," he replied, his voice soft. He didn't say much—he never needed to with her. She always seemed to understand him with just a few words.
"How are the little ones?" she asked, her eyes warm.
"They're good. We shared some bread," he replied simply, glancing back at the hall where he'd left the children.
Sister Margaret nodded, her gaze kind. "You're a good brother to them, Gabriel."
He gave a small, shy smile and nodded. With that, he said a quiet goodbye and left her office, feeling grateful. Talking with her was brief, but he always felt a bit stronger after. Sister Margaret was like a mother to him, even if they didn't say much.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the orphanage, Gabriel was busy in the small kitchen. It was his nightly routine to cook for everyone, and he enjoyed it. While he roamed the village earlier, he had gathered a few fresh ingredients—a handful of vegetables, some herbs, and a bit of meat, enough for a simple meal.
He chopped and stirred, focused on making something warm and filling for the children. The smell of the cooking filled the orphanage, drawing a few curious kids to peek in through the doorway.
"Is it almost ready, big brother?" asked Rosie, her eyes wide with excitement.
"Just a few more minutes," Gabriel replied, smiling as he stirred the pot.
As he worked, he thought about how much he wanted to make sure each meal was special. For Gabriel, these little moments—cooking and sharing a meal with his family—were the best parts of the day.
When the food was ready, he served it up, and the children gathered around the table, happily eating and chatting. Gabriel joined them, feeling a quiet happiness. Watching them laugh and enjoy the food made all his hard work worth it.
As everyone gathered around the table that evening, Sister Margaret stepped in, her gentle voice reminding them, "Before we eat, we must thank God for His blessings and for Gabriel, who worked so hard to prepare this meal."
The children grew quiet, folding their hands as they bowed their heads. Gabriel did the same, feeling a warm sense of gratitude for his family, the orphanage, and Sister Margaret's guidance.
Together, they prayed, thanking God for the food, for each other, and for the love that filled the orphanage. When they finished, the children looked up at Gabriel with smiles, ready to eat.
"Thank you, Gabriel!" they chimed, making him smile shyly. They began to eat, their laughter and joy filling the room. For Gabriel, moments like this made all his efforts worthwhile, knowing he could provide warmth and comfort for the ones he loved.
After everyone had finished eating, the children helped clear the table, and one by one, they made their way to the large room where they all slept together. The room was lined with small, cozy beds, and each child climbed into their own with soft whispers and sleepy smiles. Gabriel watched over them, tucking a few of the younger ones in before settling into his own bed near the door.
As the children drifted off to sleep, the room became quiet, filled only with the gentle sounds of breathing. Gabriel, however, lay awake, staring at the ceiling. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake a strange feeling—a heavy, uneasy sensation that kept him alert.
He didn't know what it was, but something deep inside him stirred, keeping him restless through the night. Maybe it was worry about the children, or maybe it was something he couldn't quite understand. Gabriel took a deep breath, telling himself it would pass, but the feeling lingered, filling his heart with both curiosity and concern.
And so, as the others slept soundly, Gabriel stayed awake, listening to the silence and wondering what it meant.
Quietly, Gabriel rose from his bed, slipping on his worn jacket and pulling his hat low over his eyes. He moved carefully, making sure not to wake the children as he made his way to the door. The cool night air greeted him as he took a step outside, and just as he was about to leave, he heard a soft voice behind him.
"Gabriel," Sister Margaret called gently. She had been standing in the doorway, watching him. "Thank you again for the food tonight."
Gabriel turned back to her, a small, shy smile on his face. "Why are you thanking me, Sister? You should thank God, not me," he replied. "We're only human, after all. We can do both good things and bad things... you know?"
Sister Margaret's eyes softened, her smile warm and proud. Gabriel had come to the orphanage when he was only twelve, and she had watched him grow into a young man who cared deeply for others. "You're right, Gabriel," she said. "But I'm proud of the person you've become."
Gabriel nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude that he couldn't quite put into words. With a gentle wave, he turned and disappeared into the night, carrying with him the warmth of the orphanage, Sister Margaret's pride, and the love of his family.
Gabriel stepped out into the night, the cool air brushing against his face. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air clear his thoughts. The village was quiet, with only the faint sound of leaves rustling and a distant dog barking. The sky was dotted with stars, and he found himself staring up at them, feeling a sense of calm.
As he wandered a little further from the orphanage, Gabriel's thoughts drifted. The weight he had felt earlier seemed lighter now, softened by the peaceful night. He realized how grateful he was for his life at the orphanage, for Sister Margaret, and for the children who felt like his family.
For a while, Gabriel simply stood there, listening to the silence, feeling at peace under the stars. It was in moments like these, away from the noise, that he found a sense of purpose and calm.
As Gabriel wandered outside, Sister Margaret watched from the doorway, a soft smile on her face. She thought about how talented he had become over the years. Gabriel had an incredible gift—whatever he saw, he could learn and master with surprising ease. Whether it was cooking, fixing things around the orphanage, or helping the younger children with their studies, Gabriel picked things up quickly, as if he was meant to do it all.
She remembered him as a quiet, observant boy when he first came to the orphanage at twelve. Over time, she realized he had a sharp eye and a natural skill to copy anything he saw, whether it was a recipe, a craft, or a skill. He did it with a steady patience and humility that made her feel both proud and amazed.
Watching him now, standing under the starlit sky, Sister Margaret felt a sense of wonder. She knew Gabriel had a bright future, and she was grateful to have been part of his journey. With a gentle smile, she whispered a small prayer of gratitude for the young man he had become.
As Gabriel wandered through the quiet streets, taking in the calm night, he suddenly heard hurried footsteps echoing down the alley. He turned, spotting a girl running towards him, her face filled with fear. Confused and curious, Gabriel raised his hand, trying to stop her.
"Hey, are you alright? Why are you running?" he called out softly, hoping to ease her panic.
But the girl barely glanced at him, her face pale and terrified. She looked past him, eyes widening even more, as if she had seen something horrifying. Gabriel turned to follow her gaze, and his heart froze.
Standing in the shadows was a tall, unnaturally skinny figure—a humanoid creature with limbs stretched long and body gaunt, unlike anything Gabriel had ever seen. Its face was hidden in darkness, and the air around it felt wrong, heavy with a sense of dread.
Gabriel could only watch in shock as the girl tried to escape, but the creature moved with disturbing speed, reaching her in an instant. Its bony hand wrapped around her neck, lifting her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing. Gabriel's legs felt rooted to the ground, fear seizing him completely. He wanted to move, to scream, to help her—but he was frozen, unable to do anything.
The creature's grip tightened, and with a sickening twist, it snapped the girl's neck. Her body went limp, and the creature dropped her to the ground without a second thought. Gabriel felt his heart pounding, his breaths shallow, as he watched the creature stand over her, its empty gaze now turning toward him.
As the creature's gaze fixed on him, panic surged through Gabriel. He turned and ran as fast as he could, his heart racing in his chest. But the fear had taken hold of him completely, and as he sprinted, he slipped on the cobblestone street, falling hard to the ground.
Crawling desperately, he glanced back to see the creature drawing closer, its long limbs reaching out. Adrenaline fueled him, and he pushed himself up, darting into a narrow alley to his left. But in his haste, he bumped into someone, nearly knocking them both over.
The stranger was a man about the same height as Gabriel, wearing a long, flowing robe that reminded him of a priest. Gabriel's eyes widened in fear, but the man looked at him with calm intensity.
"Step aside, young man," the man said, his voice steady and reassuring.
Gabriel barely had time to process this before he noticed the man's presence seemed to create a barrier between him and the creature. The priest stood firm, a look of determination on his face.
"Stay back!" the man commanded, his voice rising slightly as he faced the approaching creature.
Gabriel could hardly believe it. Here was a figure of authority, someone who seemed unafraid. The man's aura radiated strength, and for the first time since the encounter began, Gabriel felt a flicker of hope amidst his terror. He took a step back, watching in awe as the priest prepared to confront the horror that had just claimed an innocent life.
As the priest prepared to face the creature, he swiftly pulled a claymore sword from a shadowy corner of the alley, its blade gleaming in the dim light. With a fierce shout, he declared, "Die, you foul beast!"
The creature lunged at him, but the priest was quick on his feet, dodging its attacks with remarkable agility. He swung the sword with precision, slicing through the creature's arm and then its leg, causing it to crash to the ground with a horrifying shriek.
Gabriel watched in awe and terror as the priest moved with skill and determination, ready to finish the creature off. But just as he was about to strike the final blow, the creature lashed out with its remaining arm, striking the priest hard and knocking him back.
In that moment of chaos, Gabriel's fear began to fade, replaced by a surge of adrenaline. He spotted a heavy chain lying on the ground nearby. Without thinking, he grabbed it and ran toward the creature, closing his eyes as he approached, instinct taking over.
"Hold on!" he shouted, his voice trembling. He reached out and wrapped the chain around the creature's neck, feeling its cold, slick skin beneath his fingers.
"Do it now!" he yelled to the priest, who was just getting to his feet, visibly shaken but determined.
With a swift motion, the priest surged forward, raising the claymore high. In one powerful stroke, he plunged the sword into the creature's head. The creature let out a final, agonizing scream, and as it died, its body began to melt away like mist, dissipating into the night air in swirling tendrils of ash.
Gabriel stumbled back, releasing the chain as the last remnants of the creature vanished. He stood there, breathless, watching the priest, who wiped sweat from his brow and turned to him with a look of both relief and pride.
"Well done, young man," the priest said, his voice calm despite the chaos. "You faced your fear when it mattered most."
As Gabriel turned to leave, a sudden urgency gripped him. He realized he couldn't just walk away; he had to go back. Without thinking, he dashed down the alley toward the spot where the girl's body lay. The priest followed closely behind, his expression serious but understanding.
When they reached her, they both knelt beside her lifeless form. The dim light cast shadows on her pale face, and Gabriel felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. The sight of her motionless body filled him with sorrow and regret.
"May this person rest in peace," the priest murmured, bowing his head in prayer. Gabriel followed suit, but his mind was racing. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that consumed him.
"I couldn't help her earlier," he whispered, tears stinging his eyes. "I should have done something. I should have saved her."
The priest placed a comforting hand on Gabriel's shoulder, his grip firm yet gentle. "It's not your fault, son," he said softly, looking directly into Gabriel's eyes. "You acted bravely when it counted. You couldn't have known what would happen."
But the words offered little comfort to Gabriel. Overwhelmed by emotion, he buried his face in his hands, tears flowing freely. "I couldn't save her," he sobbed, the weight of his regret crashing down on him.
The priest remained by his side, offering silent support as Gabriel wept. Together, they mourned the loss of the girl who had been taken too soon, and in that moment, Gabriel felt a deep connection to her, a shared humanity that made her loss all the more painful. He knew he would carry this moment with him forever, a reminder of both the fragility of life and the strength it took to face his fears.
Gabriel's mind raced as he processed the horror of the situation. He looked up at the priest, his voice trembling with curiosity and fear. "What was that creature? I think it's not human; it's more like an animal."
The priest took a deep breath, knowing it was time to reveal the truth. "What you encountered tonight was once a human being," he said slowly. "But they became possessed by a demon. When a person's body is taken over in this way, if the demon fully consumes both their body and soul, they lose their humanity. What you saw was not a person anymore."
As the weight of the priest's words sank in, Gabriel felt a wave of nausea wash over him. "So… I killed a person?" he asked, horror creeping into his voice.
"Yes, my child," the priest replied gently, "but it is important to understand that it is not human anymore. If we could have caught the possession early, there may have been a chance to save them. But once the demon has consumed the soul, it is no longer the person you knew."
Gabriel's hands trembled as he gripped the priest's robe tightly, desperation in his voice. "But it's still a person! They were once alive! They had hopes, dreams… how can they just stop being human?"
The priest looked deeply into Gabriel's eyes, a mix of compassion and sadness in his expression. "I understand your pain, Gabriel, but you must listen. The creature you faced was completely consumed by darkness. The person they were is gone. We cannot save what is no longer there. The demon has taken everything."
Gabriel let go of the priest's robe, his heart heavy with confusion and grief. He struggled to calm himself, feeling overwhelmed by the horror of what he had witnessed. "What do I do now?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The priest placed a reassuring hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "You carry the burden of this night, but remember, you acted bravely. You faced the darkness when many would have turned away. Take this experience as a lesson, and let it guide you in the future. You have a strength within you that can help others."
Gabriel nodded slowly, trying to absorb the priest's words while battling his inner turmoil. The night had changed him in ways he couldn't yet comprehend, but he knew he had to move forward, not just for himself but for those he cared about.