Gabriel Chronicles: Origins

By Alex Gerardo

Aiden Gabriel is an above-average young man finishing high school when he is killed in a car accident caused by his abusive older brother. Aiden awakens to an angel offering him a second chance at life that comes with new abilities. 

 

Aiden immediately befriends his later girlfriend, Calla, and his best friend, Mason. The

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Aug 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798822902015

Alex Gerardo

Alex Gerardo is a queer author from Schenectady, New York. They are the author of a book of poetry, Guilty Escape. Alex lives with their husband and black cat.

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Charleston, SC

www.PalmettoPublishing.com

Gabriel Chronicles: Origins

Copyright © 2022 by Alex Gerardo

All rights reserved

No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval

system, or transmitted in any form by any means–electronic,

mechanical, photocopy, recording, or other–except for brief quotations

in printed reviews, without prior permission of the author.

First Edition

Hardcover ISBN: 979-8-8229-0199-5

Paperback ISBN: 979-8-8229-0200-8

eBook ISBN: 979-8-8229-0201-5

Table of Contents

Prologue The Prophecy

Act One

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Act Two

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Act Three

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

About the Author

To my boys; John, Victor, and Damien

PROLOGUE

THE PROPHECY

The universe is a vast and unknowable beast. It grows and thrives, containing all that is and has ever been within it. They say the universe comprises endless lives and possibilities, each person, animal, and creature having thousands of versions of itself, infinitely expanded based on the choices of the surrounding worlds.

The universe created beings to guide these worlds—Watchers, who give a gentle hand in the forming of history and its many outcomes. They are given the instructions of the universe, but they are asked to interfere as little as possible.

One Watcher, nicknamed the Supervisor by one of their charges, was called upon by the Universe one faithful day with a new prophecy.

There is soon to be a young man who will come to you through his death. He is the one we have been waiting for, the one to explore through all worlds and experience all things that one can. There are to be three powerful souls by his side to help guide him through this journey, but I need you to watch over him. For he must fail before he can succeed. And we may never know the true limits of our work here, warned the Universe.

How am I to help him? they asked.

You are to show him his path, introduce him to these souls, and watch as he is destroyed and rebuilt as the powerful phoenix.

What makes this one so special?

You will see. Through the power of his love and the love of those around him, he will change our worlds.

Act One

Before

Chapter One

Aiden sat atop a high school cafeteria table during lunch class as his peers gathered around, piling in to hear his latest story. Ashley walked over to him, a pep in her step that made her cheer skirt dance in the breeze, and blew past the crowd right to the spot directly at his feet. His black-brown eyes glistened in the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria. But she was focused on the purpling bruise that surrounded his left one.

Oh, honey. Ashley fluttered her eyelashes up at him with her neck craned at what must have been an uncomfortable angle. How d’you get that eye? It looks like it hurt.

Aiden’s best friend, Maia, tried not to scoff. It had hurt—she knew that—but no worse than the cut they couldn’t see hiding under his shirtsleeve. Or the marks on his back from the week before.

Didn’t hurt too bad. But I’m still not sure how I survived. This might be too tall a tale to tell. Aiden drank in every swoon and sigh from the audience. For him, this was all a performance, and he was the lead actor. All eyes were on him—they always were—but his eyes always gravitated to Maia. He couldn’t help it. Aiden found that if he gave any of his onlookers too much attention, they’d pick up on his lie. He had to keep up his facade of mystery and intrigue to keep the character alive.

There I was, he started, "minding my business, picking up some groceries. Just a normal day in the life. Then, BAM! Some asshole jumps out of nowhere, points a gun at me, ‘Put it in the bag’ like some macho man out of the twenties.

"And I’m thinking to myself, ‘Who the hell does he think he is?’

"Anyway, he’s got this gun on me, and he’s demanding my groceries, waving it all around with one hand like the gangster he thinks he is. Meanwhile, my poor pa worked all day and night to pay for these groceries, and I ain’t giving them up that easily.

"So I say, ‘If you want ’em, come get ’um.’ And instead of just shooting me, this stupid-ass motherfucker comes barreling at me, screaming and yelling like a fucking Klingon.

"So what do I do? I trip him. I sweep his feet right out from under him. He crashes to the ground and smacks his head off the sidewalk. But then he kicks me in the fucking shin. It catches me off guard. Of course, I am only human. And once I’m down with him, he punches me right in the eye. Gives me a nice left hook—"

Alright, alright, Aiden, break up your little fan club. It’s just about time for class. Mr. Clouse, the history teacher, walked toward them, waving them toward the door to the hallway.

Yes, sir. Aiden turned to the crowd and lifted his hands in the air as if he was directing them. You heard the man. Let’s get a move on. He did his best to look disappointed and apologetic, but his mind had already moved on.

I can’t believe you keep finding yourself in such dangerous positions. It’s almost like you go out looking for trouble. Ashley sidled up next to him as the crowd thinned out. I heard there’s a new action movie coming out this weekend. Think you can spoil a girl?

Not this weekend. Dad’s coming home, and we’re gonna play ball and frolic through the fields together. Maybe some other time. He stood up and grabbed his bag, glancing around the room.

Ashley stuck her lip out in a pout and grabbed for his hand. You always say that.

Not always. He pulled away from her and walked toward the door. Sometimes I just say ‘No.’

As he walked out, the bells rang for them to go to class.

All young boys hope to save the world one day. To get the girl, to be a loving friend, to make their parents proud. Even with his depressing background, these hopes followed Aiden like a guardian angel.

Aiden J. Gabriel had a lot to look forward to. He was an exceedingly attractive young man at eighteen. He had long ago filled out his long arms and lanky frame with a noticeable amount of muscle from track and basketball. However, it was his smile that caught most people off guard. He seemed to have this resounding kindness within him, one that touched your soul. He had inherited his mother’s deep-brown eyes; they matched perfectly with his father’s Italian tanned skin. His hair flopped around in a dark-brown fluff ball on top of his head, long enough to play with when he got bored, but not too long to manage.

He was as charming as they come, but he had just enough charisma to get himself in plenty of trouble in school and out. This was the way most people knew him. His father wasn’t around enough to know him past the little boy he wished to get back, and his brother drank too much to even notice he still had a brother until Aiden screwed something up.

The only person who truly knew who Aiden was, was Maia, a well-spoken, small brunette who lived next door. Many often referred to them as twins because of how close they were. Inseparable since age five, the two knew everything there was to know about the other, mostly because they had lived through it together.

But one day they would have to separate. And it’s because of that separation that his tale truly begins. Because this life is only one of thousands that Aiden will live, but this is how it all started.

Black eyes and daring injuries from even more daring stunts were a common enough thing for the Gabriel brothers that the teachers at Lincoln Academy had long ago stopped asking questions. It was the type of school that got you fired if you asked the wrong parents the wrong things.

However, the students worshipped Aiden like a god, always talking to him and begging to hear his tall tales.

You could slip and fall in all the drool on the floor, Maia would say.

He spent most lunch periods sitting on top of the tables, telling his swooning crowd of how he rescued a puppy from a tree while fighting off the local mob. He showed how he beat them off one by one, putting people in chokeholds and punching others in the gut. All the surrounding girls swooned and sighed and cheered him on for the whole forty-five minutes, groaning when the bell went off to send him to class.

Maia in no way minded the attention he always got. At this point in their lives, she knew him better than he knew himself. No one would take that away from them. So she monitored him from afar, as did he her. It was an arrangement that had lasted over ten years.

The two of them had become much closer than he and his brother, Morgan, could ever hope to be. Not that Aiden was really interested in the idea.

Chapter Two

The night before had been worse than normal. Aiden could sense it as soon as he stepped off the bus.

Dad had texted him and Morgan on Sunday that he planned to be home that night, but that it might not happen. Aiden knew better than to get his hopes up—not that Dad being home inspired much in terms of hope. But Morgan didn’t seem to know better.

Aiden’s brother had spent all day and night cleaning the house, sobering up, and finding something to make them for dinner, but their dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway when Aiden got home from school. There was just a message on the answering machine that work had held him up for an extra day and that he loved them both.

Aiden tried to run silently up the stairs to his room, to not wake Morgan, who was probably on the couch.

A, he heard from down the stairs, you finish cleaning your room like I told you to?

Ugh…yeah. Mostly. Just gonna take the garbage down when I head out later.

So you didn’t finish?

No. I did. I just didn’t have time to bring it down this morning ’cause I was running late. Shit, shit fuck.

And why is that? Couldn’t be that Maia came over last night after I told you no friends till after your chores were done? Could it?

Move. Run. Get to your room, and you can lock the door. Just move!

She only stopped in to grab her textbook—

Get down here. He heard Morgan sit up. Now.

Aiden froze for a half second, but that was all it took. Morgan was up off the couch and heading toward the stairs before Aiden could force his feet to move.

I said get down here!

Aiden saw the glint of the hall light bounce off the dark-brown bottle as it flew up the stairs and shattered behind him. Aiden dropped down into a ball on the floor and covered his head with his hands to evade the glass spraying around him.

God damn it. Now I gotta clean this up before Dad gets here. Why can’t you just listen? Morgan began walking up the stairs, relying on the railing more than he normally would have. As he reached his brother, curled in on himself and shaking, Morgan kicked him, glaring down. Why can’t you just do what you’re told?

Aiden hissed as he felt a glass shard embed into his shoulder, but he bit down hard on his lip to keep from making any other sounds.

Get up, Morgan demanded.

Aiden nodded numbly and tried to push up off the floor, but the pain in his arm made it hard to put any weight on it.

Morgan huffed out in frustration and pulled his brother up by his shirt collar, the fabric popping with the strain. For a split second, Aiden wondered if Morgan was gonna throw him down the stairs.

Morgan, Mor. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll…I’ll go take out the trash right now, and…and I’ll clean this up. Aiden felt the bite of tears in the backs of his eyes as he stared down that staircase.

You think I’m gonna throw you? You really think I would do something like that? Morgan actually sounded hurt. He looked his little brother up and down, looked at the blood slowly seeping down his shirt from his arm. Why would you think that?

Trick question. Bad question, with only bad answers. And not answering was the worst answer.

No. Mor, I didn’t think that.

And now you’re gonna lie to me?

No…I… Shit.

Morgan pushed him toward Aiden’s bedroom, stumbling as he tripped over Aiden’s feet. Aiden had just started getting taller than his brother a few months ago, but Morgan often forgot about it on days like this.

The door was ajar, probably from when Morgan had gone in there earlier to see if Aiden had finished cleaning, but the wood still smacked into him on the way through.

As Morgan pushed them into the room, Aiden tripped over the trash bag that had been waiting for him. Before he could put his hands out to stop his fall, his face collided with the hand rest on his desk chair. Fuck! Aiden cried out, bringing his hands up to his eye.

Aiden? What happened?

Fuck! All he could see was blinding white and red. His head was ringing, and he could barely make out what Morgan was saying.

Aiden lay there on the floor, holding his head for what felt like hours. By the time he looked around, Morgan was gone, and his shirt seemed to be soaked with the blood from his arm. He couldn’t think straight. The whole world seemed much too cold, and it was spinning around him.

He dragged himself to his bathroom, a four-piece bath off his bedroom. He pulled his shirt and pants off, turned the water to the standing shower on as hot as it would go, and lay under it, reveling in the warmth and calm it brought to his senses.

Aiden woke up, the hot shower of water running over his skin. His head was still spinning and throbbing, and his left eye was mostly closed from swelling. His phone was on the floor a few feet away, his and Maia’s text conversation pulled up with an SOS recently sent.

He heard someone drop through his bedroom window onto the yoga mat placed down in front of it on the other side of the room from the bathroom. He could hear the sound of Maia slipping off her shoes and pants and running into the bathroom as quietly as she could.

He felt the hot water stick along his skin, and he sobbed against the pain in his head as the lights flicked on.

Hey… he mumbled, moving to sit up.

Stay down, motherfucker. I will make you. There’s no need to do any more damage, she demanded as she turned off the water.

No need. Mor already did. Aiden stopped moving to get up and allowed himself to rest against the bathroom wall.

A…don’t joke like that. She knelt down beside him to examine the blood caked on his arm. How deep is it?

It’s not too bad. ’Tis a flesh wound. Aiden couldn’t help but chuckle at his own joke.

Maia frowned at him, paying close attention to his arm. It was easier for her to focus on fixing his wounds than trying to persuade him to tell someone.

I’m okay, Maia, really. It’ll be okay.

I’m sure you’ll be fine. Let’s dry you off and get some real bandages on you.

Aiden nodded and put his arm around her shoulder, helping to get him on his feet.

Ugh, you’re getting too tall for this, Maia complained. Pretty soon you’re gonna have to get someone else to help you.

But no one plays nurse as well as you do. He chuckled and licked the water from his lips.

You’re an ungrateful prick, you know that?

Together they shuffled into the bedroom and were able to get him onto the yoga mat, the effort of lowering him down causing the figures on his desk to shake.

Maia gave him a good look up and down for any other injuries and decided the worst of them were his left eye and arm. You need to learn to stop leading with your right. You leave your left completely vulnerable.

And what? Let him take me out on both sides?

Or maybe, I don’t know, learn to block better so he can’t take out either side.

You think you’re funny, don’t you?

Extremely. She sighed. Head or arm?

Arm. It’s bleeding pretty bad.

Doubt that hot shower did any good. She stood up and grabbed two towels, one that was clean and one that already had multiple bloodstains on it. Then she grabbed a first-aid kit out of the bathroom cabinet. Can you dry yourself off?

Yes, mommy, I’m a big boy.

A big boy who could’ve died had I not shown up.

Would that be so bad? He looked up at her through his lashes. Challenging her to think the question through.

Yes. Now give me your arm, she demanded.

He complied and turned so the injured arm was toward her, using his good arm to towel himself off.

Ready? she asked.

No, he replied.

She handed him a belt off the floor, and he stuck it in his mouth as she poured the alcohol over the wound. He grunted into the belt, biting down hard enough that the veins in his neck stood out. The pain reopened in his mind and turned his vision white for a few seconds, the whole room spinning on its axis.

I’m sorry, she whispered, kissing his wet hair. I’m all done with that. No more additional pain, I promise.

Promise?

Why would I lie?

’Cause you love taking care of me, and if I get better, you don’t get to do that anymore.

I am not your doctor’s office.

He chuckled at that, waves of fear and unease flowing off his shoulders.

We might be able to just wrap this. You were right; it’s not that deep.

Oh, thank God.

That’s blasphemous.

I’m an atheist.

That’s even worse. She took out the antiseptic and opened the first roll of gauze.

She handed him the end of the gauze, and he pinched it to the inside of his forearm. The two of them worked like clockwork at this point. Morgan had come back home from the war almost four years ago. And he was a shell of what he used to be. They said there had been an accident and that Morgan was the sole survivor, but they didn’t send back the same person they had taken away from him.

Their father was too absent to notice what was going on. He worked for a multibillion-dollar company selling pharmaceuticals worldwide, so he was almost never in New York, let alone home with his boys. And their mother had died far too young, leaving the two of them on their own, keeping their secrets hidden from the outside world.

Morgan was normally better about hitting Aiden in the face. It was always the cuts and bruises to his back, the red and swollen knees and shins, even the occasional split knuckle from fighting back, but that made things so much worse for him. He learned early on to not put up too much of a fight.

Maia inspected the cut on his arm, observing their handiwork, and then gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Ashley’s gonna cum at the sight of this thing.

Oh, my lucky day. Ashley drooling on my open wound.

You love it. Don’t lie.

It’s not the worst part of my day, I’ll admit.

How’s the head?

Fine. Mostly just foggy and tired.

Okay. Here, I got an ice pack for you. It’ll help the eye and the fog.

Thanks, but I think I can handle it from here. You can head home.

Yeah, right. We are getting you dressed, and I am not leaving this room until I know for certain you’re not gonna choke on your vomit in your sleep. And that’s final.

Stubborn.

Maybe.

They got him dressed and her into some dry clothes, and then she persuaded him to get into bed. His eyes always followed her, as if at any moment he’d need to spring into action by saving her or giving her a hug. Whatever she needed from him.

Her loose brown curls were damp and heavy against his faded black Scooby-Doo T-shirt. Her short dark lashes framed her wild gray eyes as she surveyed the room. She was always looking around, finding something to fix, to clean, or to soothe. Eventually, she made her way to his bed, where she took her spot up against his Carz are Cool poster and let him set his head in her lap. That was how they were to stay for the rest of the night, Aiden silently listening to the sounds of her humming, and her running her fingers through his hair. This was how they were. This was how it had always been.

chapter Three

Aiden often stayed after school to hang out with friends or work out in the gym. It meant less time at home, and he could walk home with Maia. She often stayed after to work on her artwork or practice her piano. But mostly she stayed after so she could walk home with Aiden.

What’s up with your arm? You’re hooking right, yelled Aiden’s buddy Nick from across the gym as Aiden shot a basketball at the hoop and missed miserably.

Just pulled it in a fight the other day. Can still kick your ass, though.

Nick ran to the ball and grabbed it before throwing it at Aiden, but Aiden had no problem catching it with his good arm.

Who’s playing today? Aiden asked as he passed the ball back to Nick.

Curt went home, Jake’s with his girl, Brian’s fucking your mom in the parking lot. Guess just us two.

I’m gonna pass, then. Gonna go for a run instead. You in?

You just wanna watch the cheerleaders and wink at Ashley.

And you’re just sad the last girl you winked at threw up.

Ouch, low blow.

And the ‘mom’ comment wasn’t.

Fine, fine. Be that way.

The boys took off toward the track, laughing. Nick was right; the cheerleaders were out practicing, and they waved and cheered on Aiden and Nick as they ran by.

Nick was a horny teenage boy who liked video games and had rich parents. Being one of three redheaded triplets, he had a lot of competition within his family.

Technically, the school had a merit program where you could enroll based on your test scores and that kind of thing, but most people believed even those kids paid their way in. That’s not to say these kids weren’t smart. Most of them knew how to work their way around a legal document and how to lie most convincingly, but none of them were going on to law school based on their SAT. Aiden enjoyed it enough at Lincoln. He only really had to put up with it for a few more months. Maybe sooner if he went through with running away. But he wouldn’t, because he had no actual plans, and leaving would mean no Maia. No Maia meant no friends, no caregiver, no one who understood.

Aiden and Nick knew each other from years of track and gym together. Nick had become Aiden’s biggest competition once they reached high school. There was even talk of the two of them going to NYU together on scholarships once the time came.

Practice was Wednesday and Friday after school, and their meets were on Saturdays at dawn. Maia came to every one of them, wearing a T-shirt with his number crudely written on it in Sharpie. His dad, Drake, came to his matches only if he was in town that weekend, and Morgan didn’t even notice that Aiden was in any sports.

There was a small group of friends that went out for ice cream and a swim after track meets, including Nick, Aiden, Maia, Jake, Brian, and any of their girlfriends at the time. It helped the group keep company and stay out of trouble.

But they had nothing going on that day, and Aiden had initially planned on walking to Maia’s for homework after his run. That was until he saw the principal, his coach, and the school nurse walking toward him, talking in a huddle on the track.

Nick and Aiden hadn’t seen them until they were within speaking distance. The boys had their eyes glued to the cheerleaders working on their stretches. Particularly Ashley and Kate, who kept winking at them as they would bend down or stick their legs in the air.

Aiden Gabriel? asked the principal.

"Yes? How can I