Chapter Text
The first time Gideon Gleeful had killed someone, it was out of necessity. Or rather, he had no other choice. It all started with a vision. From the age of three years old, he had been having visions. His childish doodles had only sometimes helped with problems, but people started to connect the dots after the fifth time they actually listened instead of dismissing it as a child's nightmare. And, generally, it was only about things like earthquakes, floods, or deadly blizzards that kept people inside from the start of winter to the end. And then...he had a vision about a person.
His visions were always...abstract, but the symbols and writing hands that six-year-old Gideon had seen in his vision were definitely human. And this vision continued, relentless, and it always ended the same way – with a horrible gas that killed everyone in the town.
He tried to talk to his father about it, but he said that it can't have been a vision because Gideon's visions never had people. He talked to the old guy in the Mystery Shack about it and he said he'd keep an eye out but not to focus too much on it.
A week later, the trucks came into town. They were researchers, checking out the unusual flora in the town. Gideon made sure they never found the fauna, and closely watched them. And then, feeling like he'd been stabbed in the head, he saw the man with the symbol on his jacket. He was the head of the operation and, while he spoke with a silver tongue, Gideon had a feeling that tongue was forked.
To his credit, so did Mr. Pines. He kept an eye on him when he was in the town, while Gideon watched him in the woods.
He should've just gone to Mr. Pines. He should've gone to any other adult. Why did he think this guy could be reasoned with? He found him alone by the waterfall and implored him to stop his plan, that it will kill people. Surprised, the man asked what he was talking about. Foolishly, Gideon told the man of his powers, and the vision he saw.
He should've expected a man willing to kill an entire town would try to take an ESPer captive for experimenting on. He didn't seem to care if he hurt the child, as long as he was alive for testing, and came at him with a knife. Gideon, in a panic, used his telepathy to force the man to drop the knife. But, what would he do now?
Reasoning with him didn't work. If this man left here, he might kill everyone and take him away to be experimented on. Gideon thought of how he had seen hunters tranquilize a deer before finally killing it and realized that this man had to die.
A grim thought for a six-year-old, but he'd been hearing worse thoughts in his head since he was born, so...
He knelt down and picked up the knife, never losing eye-contact with the man. It would have to be quick. His screams would surely attract people, like the dying screams of an animal. His hand was shaking but, every moment he hesitated, the vision would nag at him, relentlessly reminding him of how this man had to die.
And so he raised his knife over the man and stabbed him repeatedly, using all the force his six-year-old body could muster. By the time the man finally choked on his own blood, Gideon was covered in blood and crying for him to please just die already, he had to die, why was he still alive?
And then it was silent. Gideon dropped the knife next to the body and curled up with his arms around his knees, sobbing softly. Why was the man so bad? Why couldn't he listen to reason? Why were some people so....so evil?
He stayed there for hours, and when he heard someone approaching he gasped and quickly got up to run. Too late, he realized, as a familiar face stepped into view.
“Gideon...” Stan breathed. “What...?”
“H-He was gonna hurt me...he was gonna kill everyone. I-I HAD to do it...I HAD to...I didn't wanna...but I HAD to...the vision...” Gideon stammered, tears slipping down his blood-soaked cheeks.
Stan stared at the body quietly before walking over to Gideon and pulling out his handkerchief. “Come on, the Shack's not far and I'm already closed. I'll come bury the body after we clean you up, okay?” He said, wiping blood and tears off the child's face.
“Y-You're not gonna...tell anyone?” Gideon asked.
“I understand having to do what's right, even if it's hard.” Stan gently squeezed his shoulder. “It's not gonna be easy living with this. Next time, though, tell me if you see something. It's better I put more blood on my hands than you put more on yours.”
Gideon started to sob again and buried his face into Stan's chest. Stan gently lifted the blood-soaked child up and went through the woods to discreetly return to the Mystery Shack.
They never told anyone about it. Gideon sat watching with a mug of cocoa as Stan dug a hole and buried the body of the man and, shortly after, the researchers left. Then, after cleaning up, Stan took Gideon home and told Bud to keep a better eye on his kid before he went home.
Gideon only had nightmares for a few years. After the next one, where he killed someone that was kidnapping his cousin, it got a lot easier to reason them away with “They were Evil, it had to be done. They shouldn't be allowed to live”.
And so, he continued to kill criminals that entered his town, protecting the inhabitants before they even knew what was in their midst.
End