Gabriel had been Mikhail’s guardian angel since the day Mikhail popped out of his mother’s womb at the age of zero. All his life, from a childhood of flunking classes to an adulthood of friendlessness, right up until the day he perished at the age of 28, he had been immune to introspection, preferring instead to blame his unhappiness on his Saturn return. It would seem not even a touching memory from the past could change this ingrained rottenness…

While Mikhail continued frothing at the mouth at the unfairness of KP distribution, Gabriel checked his pocket watch. He phased a foot through Mikhail’s bedroom door. “Anyway, it’s about time for the Ghost of Christmas Present routine. We’re a bit short-staffed these days, so you’ll be stuck for me a while longer. Come along now.”

“Fuck you, buddy! I’m not going!”

“Little Mikhail,” Gabriel said warningly. From his sleeve, he procured the suspicious-looking taser again. 

“Coming, coming. Where to, sir?”

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The two walked a short ways down the dark hallway, then came to a stop at a door.

Specifically, this was the door to Shen Dan’s bedroom. 

Gabriel went to phase through the door, but Mikhail grabbed his arm. “Emm, this? This is Shen Dan’s room. I’m not allowed in here. You see, tidying up—dusting, vacuuming, mopping, rearranging—things like that, I do it everywhere else in the house, but my PA manual specifically tells me not to enter this room. Besides, it’s three in the morning. He’ll be asleep. It’s, um, not, um, ap-p-propriate…”

Gabriel asked, “Aren’t you the one feeling curious every day about what’s in here?” 

Creep! Who told you it’s okay to read my private thoughts?! 

“Tell you what,” Gabriel said with a smile, “I’ll wait outside and let you take a look around yourself. As for why this destination is relevant, you’ll be enlightened shortly.”  

Before Mikhail got the chance to splutter out an excuse—specifically that this was not how the movies went—Gabriel gave him a shove from behind. Mikhail phased through the closed door, stumbling into Shen Dan’s room and falling on his ass.

The sound of measured breathing caused him to break out in a cold sweat.   

Shen Dan’s room, bathed in moonlight, was surprisingly small for a master bedroom. It was hardly bigger than Mikhail’s room and contained only a queen-sized bed, a wooden desk, and a few bookshelves. 

It was also, Mikhail noticed with a fluttering heart, a bit messy. Contrasting with the rest of the house which was spotless thanks to a certain someone’s tireless efforts, the desk was coated in a thin film of dust. Piles of marked-up scripts adorned every surface, accompanied by empty glasses. There was even a genuine “depression chair” draped in jackets sitting against the wall.

Mikhail’s fluttering heart trilled: Let me clean it, let me take care of it, let me take care of you-u-u!~

There was a burrito of quilts on the bed. With every breath in, the burrito expanded slightly; with every breath out, it depressed slightly. Empirically-speaking, this burrito-shaped Shen Dan was a bit cute, but Mikhail was also presently overdosing on “gap moe.” Unable to think straight, he skipped over to the burrito and tucked in the corners, wanting to drop a fat smooch onto Shen Dan’s forehead.  

In the process of doing so, out of the corner of his eye, Mikhail caught something glittering on the desk beside the bed. He examined it.

It was the wedding ring from his failed proposal—the one that had disappeared a few days ago. 

“You left something lying around? I did some cleaning up. Maybe it got thrown away.”

Lying third-rate actor scum! He fucking stole it! 

Grinding his teeth, Mikhail returned to the burrito’s bedside and went to untuck the corners of the quilt. He evilly waved in some of the chilly nighttime air, hoping that Shen Dan would catch a cold and die.

Suddenly, the burrito shifted. 

Shen Dan flipped over onto his right side. His nose was now merely inches away from Mikhail’s. His hair, ordinarily combed neatly, looked like a bird’s nest. His eyes were closed; his thin lips were parted in relaxation. Fast asleep, he mumbled incoherently.

At this sight, Mikhail felt his heart become itchy. He leaned in closer. 

Shen Dan: “Mmm…” 

Ahh, the power of gap moe is too strong! 

Shen Dan: “Mmm… mn… Mick…”

Sweetheart, what do you want to say? Mickie Mouse? 

Shen Dan: “M-Mikhail…”

Mikhail: “!!!!!!!!”

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Realizing he’d heard something he shouldn’t have, Mikhail recoiled from Shen Dan’s face. His heart was pounding. As he stumbled backwards, he hit his ankle on the depression chair, then tripped over a stray slipper lying on the floor. Falling backwards, he phased through the closet door with a scream. 

Something soft caught him from behind, keeping him upright. 

In the darkness of the closet, Mikhail blinked rapidly. It felt like he was surrounded by round cushions of varying sizes. He fumbled around with his hands, slid the closet door open, and then turned around. 

“B-b-bee…”

Lo and behold, inside Shen Dan’s closet, stacked to the ceiling, was a wall—no, a veritable Mount Tai of bee plushies.

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Farewell, gap moe! Hello, uncanny valley!  

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From behind, Shen Dan emitted a dainty snore. As Mikhail slowly turned over his shoulder to stare at him, his neck seemed to emit a drawn-out creak.

Computing: 

int main () {

   int a = closet;

   int b = bee;

   int c = 5-year-old kid;

   if( a contains b ) {

          cout << “Shen Dan likes bees;” << endl;

   }

   cout << “The identity of Shen Dan is:” << c << endl;

   return 0;

}

As Mikhail continued to stare at the sleeping Shen Dan, the teeth-mark scar on his wrist began to itch. 

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Meanwhile, Gabriel was sitting on the couch helping himself to a jar of pickle slices. When he saw Mikhail shuffle into the living room, shadows underlining his dead-fish eyes, he sat up and waved him over. “Oh good, you’re finished. Did you have a productive look around? Knowing you, you’ll be struggling to put two and two together, so I’ll give you a bit of a hint.”

“Twenty years ago, the kid you gifted that bee plushie to…”

“The kid who bit you so hard you were sent to the emergency room for stitches…”

Gabriel cheerfully pointed in the direction of the dark hallway.

Mikhail: “…Shen Dan?”

Ding, ding, ding, ding! Out of nowhere, a flashing neon arrow materialized into existence, hovering over Mikhail’s head. It was accompanied with the word “WINNER” in all caps.

Mikhail: “…”

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Mikhail snatched the front of Gabriel’s robes. He gave the ex-angel a good shake. “So, that third-rate actor scum bit me once! Who cares! You tell me, what the fuck does that have to do with Christmas or teaching me a lesson?!”

“Oh. It has little to do with either of those things. I just find it funny.”

Mikhail: “…”

Gabriel extended a hand and snapped his fingers. The surrounding living room faded into smoke. Replacing it was an empty black void that extended in all directions. Suddenly, a spotlight shone down from the ceiling, casting a small metal wastebasket into the limelight.  

“The hell?” 

“This,” Gabriel said, peeling Mikhail’s hands off his robes, “is the Ghost of Christmas Future routine. We’re nearly finished. Tell me, what do you see?”

Mikhail peered into the wastebasket. It was empty, save for a tiny green sliver at the bottom. “Uh, there’s nothing except a pine needle in here.”

Ding, ding, ding, ding! The flashing neon arrow, still floating overhead, motioned to Mikhail exaggeratedly. 

Gabriel clapped his hands, and a projector appeared. It casted a Powerboint slide onto a pulldown screen. The slide had a stock photo of a man looking inquisitive, a number of complex math equations swirling around his head. “As you know, the Guardian Angel System begins with a 25-day free trial. If you are unable to purchase the full version by the end of the trial, you’ll be ‘deleted from the environment.’ But to be honest, this wording has always been a bit misleading.” 

The next slide showed a clip art of a molecule.

“According to the law of conservation of matter, matter can neither be created from nothing nor destroyed into nothing. You and me both, everything on the planet—you guessed it, it’s all matter. So, what exactly happens when you’re ‘deleted?’ Simple. You’ll be transformed into something else. Something much simpler and much more compact than a typical human…”

Mikhail felt an acute indigestion. His eyes fell to the wastebasket.

“You mean, I’m going to be turned into a pine needle—”

Ding, ding, ding, ding! 

“—Cut it out with the fucking sign!” 

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Gabriel snapped his fingers again. The spotlight shut off; the flashing neon sign vanished. Mikhail could see only darkness all around him, but he heard Gabriel’s voice echoing in his ear:

“Your chances of success are less than 0.0000001%. Since your life is over, there’s nothing that can be done to increase your KP balance. But it seems you are in possession of an interesting artifact. That bingo sheet may be your last hope of saving your hide. Little Mikhail, good luck…”

When Mikhail opened his eyes with a gasp, it was already early morning. His window was shut, the sunrise’s light filtering through the blinds.

The dream was over.

But the nightmare had just started.