Life's simple, really. You wake up, grab your controller, and let the hours melt away in a glorious haze of pixelated chaos. No drama, no responsibilities, just me, my console, and whatever world I choose to conquer today. Well, except when the Wi-Fi acts up. Then it's pure hell.
That's how I see the world. And why shouldn't I? Bills are covered thanks to Mom and Dad's funds and lectures.
"we don't want to see you fail"
and I've mastered the art of microwave cooking to a degree Gordon Ramsay would envy.
Obsession or Addiction??
But let's be real, gaming isn't the only thing I do to pass the time. I'm a sucker for music. And not just any music, I mean The Weeknd. His tracks? Absolute bangers.
Take Lost in the Fire, for example. That beat, that vibe, and yeah, those lyrics. Sometimes, when I'm alone in my room, I'll crank it up, letting Abel Tesfaye's smooth voice echo in my tiny sanctuary:
"I wanna fuck you slow with the lights on…"
"Pure art,"
I'd mutter to myself, nodding to the rhythm. You can't blame me, it's hypnotic. And, uh… yeah, it does things to your brain. One time, I was mid-song when my buddy Ryan barged in.
"Dude, what the hell are you listening to?"
I didn't even flinch.
"Culture."
"Culture? Bro, this is straight-up HORNY karaoke!"
"Hey, don't knock it till you try it."
But Ryan's not wrong. My playlist? It's a mix of Earned It, Wicked Games, and Often. And let's just say the combination doesn't exactly help when you're already… inclined to indulge.
I've got this habit, alright? Being alone 90% of the time has its downsides. My browser history is what Ryan calls a
"red flag,"
and my late-night playlists don't exactly scream wholesome. But come on, The Weeknd's tracks aren't just about lust. They're about artistry.
"Michelangelo sculpted naked people, Ryan. I'm just appreciating the modern form."
"Sure, dude. That's what they all say."
But honestly, it's not like I'm hurting anyone. My room, my life, my rules. That's what I told myself, until he showed up.
Moments before disaster..
It started like any other day. Me, in the middle of a tournament, Lost in the Fire humming in the background. I was in the zone, buttons mashing, victory within reach. Then my monitor flickered.
"Are you kidding me?! Not now!"
But this wasn't my Wi-Fi acting up. The air got heavy, shadows crept into the corners, and my room went eerily silent.
"Okay, if this is karma for the, uh… My search history, I can explain.."
"I'm not obsessed with ponies"
That's when I heard it: a deep, booming voice that shook my very soul.
I got tense and put my headphones on.
"Isn't it amazing? "
Instead of violating my P.P in the bathroom right now, I'm listening to some lewd music instead... haha, what a great plan not to kill my babies in my balls.
A little distracted, but that was the least of my problems right now. What kind of twisted situation had I just signed up for?
The shadows in the corner of my room began to twist and coil like black smoke, slowly forming a massive shape. A figure. A towering figure. His horns almost scraped the ceiling.
And then, that voice.
"Mortal… you have been chosen."
I froze. "…Is this about the pizza I forgot to pay for?"
The disaster
The shadows solidified into a hulking figure. A demon. His presence was overwhelming, his eyes burning with fiery malice. His crimson cloak billowed like it was caught in an eternal storm. He had
"I'm a dramatic anime villain"
written all over him.
"I'm not buying whatever you're selling,"
I blurted.
"Try the guy next door; he's weird."
"Silence!"
The force of his voice rattled the walls, the floor vibrating beneath my feet.
I glanced at him, blinking slowly as if he was some kind of misunderstood performer.
"You shut up!!"
I responded in the most nonchalant tone possible, my eyes deadpan.
I could see his anger building with every passing second, the tension in his frame coiling like a spring about to snap. But something was stopping him from lunging at me.
"Make me!!"
he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.
Who is he? A dramatic anime villain?
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, the tiniest of smirks tugging at my lips.
"Ohh, I will," I said, leaning back in my chair. "But you might moan a little..."
His eyes widened in utter disgust, but before he could respond, I saw the flicker of something darker in his gaze. He looked like he wanted to crush me, but wasn't sure where to start.
"Ahh, filthy humans... I am Maltraxus, Demon Lord of the Ninth Abyss!"
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Okay, Mal. What do you want?"
He growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"It's Maltraxus! And I come bearing destiny."
With a swift motion, he raised a glowing egg, its surface etched with cryptic symbols that seemed to pulse with ancient power.
"Every 400 years, a demon lord must entrust their offspring to a mortal. A tradition decreed by the gods themselves."
"Uh-huh. And you picked me because...?"
"You were chosen."
"By who? Satan's randomizer?"
His eyes narrowed, the temperature in the room suddenly plummeting.
"You mock me, mortal, yet the pact has been sealed. You will care for this child until it is ready to embrace its destiny."
I blinked, still not fully processing.
"This child? You mean the egg? What do you think I am, a babysitter?"
Maltraxus moved closer, the air growing thick with his oppressive presence.
"The ritual cannot be undone. Fail, and your soul will be forfeit."
"Oh, great. No pressure or anything."
Before I could protest further, his hand shot out, shadows writhing around my wrists, binding them to the egg. I yelped as runes seared themselves into my skin, hot and sharp.
"The pact is complete. In 18 years, I shall return."
"Prepare yourself, mortal. This is no ordinary offspring. You must perform the rituals daily to ensure its survival. The instructions will reveal themselves in time."
"Cool, cool, yeah,"
I muttered, trying to process the absurdity of it all.
"No pressure or anything. Just a demon kid in my care. Totally normal Thursday."
The demon lord turned to leave, his cape billowing dramatically. But then, he paused at the door of my reality-bending room, turning his fiery gaze back to me.
His glare was intense enough to make my knees wobble.
"You better not try something funny with my offspring," he growled.
"Try something funny?!"
I yelled, offended.
"I'm not a psycho!"
He muttered under his breath as he walked away, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Why… out of all humans, why this horny creature?"
"I HEARD THAT!"
I shouted, but he was already gone, leaving me alone with the egg, my thoughts, and a rapidly approaching existential crisis.
"Wait. How'd he know I'm hard 24/7?"
My heart sank as a horrifying thought hit me like a truck. Does he know about my search history?
I glanced at my PC screen out of instinct. The browser was closed, but was it enough? I mean, he's a demon lord, surely they have, like, magical spyware or something. Right?
"HEY! YOU BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN SNOOPING!"
I shouted, but he was already gone, leaving me with a glowing egg and a mounting pile of existential dread.
Aftermath of the disaster
The first few days after the demon lord's visit were surreal. I'd wake up every morning, half expecting it all to be a bad dream. But nope. There it was, an ominous, pulsating egg sitting on my bed like an interdimensional paperweight, refusing to hatch.
Weeks passed, and still, nothing. At first, I followed the rituals religiously, whispering the demonic incantations which I learnt online, sprinkling the weird powders, and burning incense that smelled like burnt popcorn mixed with sulfur. But by week three, my patience wore thin.
"C'mon, man,"
I groaned, staring at the stubborn egg.
"You're supposed to be some demon royalty, right? Hatch already! Do I look like I have all eternity? I've got games to play, you know!"
The egg sat there, unmoving, as if mocking me.
"Fine," I muttered. "You wanna play games?
Let's play."
Knocking on It
I picked it up and gave it a gentle knock.
Knock, knock. "Hello? Anyone home? Your dad dropped you off weeks ago. Time to pay rent or get out."
No response.
I knocked again, harder this time.
Knock, knock, knock.
"If you don't hatch, I swear I'm calling CPS, or, uh, Demon Protection Services."
Dancing With It
When knocking failed, I decided to get creative. I cleared the floor, blasted some tunes, and started dancing with the egg in my arms.
"See? This is quality bonding time!" I spun around dramatically. "Bet your dad never did this for you!"
Lullabies
By the end of the day, I was desperate. I cradled the egg in my arms and sang the most ridiculous lullaby I could think of.
"Hush, little demon, don't you cry, or your daddy'll fry me alive…"
I paused, looking at the egg. "Y'know, if this hatches into something that bites me, I'm feeding you to the nearest stray dog."
Songs
Still no signs of life. That's when I had my stroke of genius or insanity, depending on who you ask. I put my headphones on the egg and queued up Heartless.
"You better appreciate this. Not everyone gets to jam to The Weeknd before they're born."
I hit play.
"Never need a Bitch I'm what a bitch needs.."
I snorted.
"Bet your dad would lose his horns if he heard this."
Final Straw
After hours of coaxing, serenading, and dancing, I finally snapped.
"That's it!"
I yelled, grabbing the egg.
"You're hatching today whether you like it or not!"
The egg started glowing faintly, making me freeze mid-rant. Slowly, cracks formed along its surface, spilling an eerie black mist into the room. The lights flickered, and a low hum vibrated through the air.
"Oh no,"
I whispered, suddenly realizing how monumentally I had screwed up.
The cracks widened, and an icy chill seeped into my bones. Shadows writhed across the walls, twisting into monstrous shapes. I stumbled back, clutching my chest.
The egg shattered, and there, amidst the debris, lay a small, frail creature. Its skin was a deep crimson, its tiny horns barely visible. It had sharp, clawed fingers and glowing amber eyes that stared directly into my soul.
It let out a soft cry, but the sound was anything but innocent. It echoed through my room, sending shivers down my spine.
"Uh… hi?"
I managed to croak.
The demon girl's eyes narrowed as if judging me.
"Yeah, nice to meet you, too," I said weakly, backing away. "Please don't kill me."
The creature tilted its head, its expression unreadable. Then it sneezed, sending a spark of fire toward my desk chair.
"Great,"
I muttered, watching it smolder.
"This is gonna be a long 18 years."
"Uh… buddy?" I whispered at the egg, anxiety creeping into my voice.
"You good?"
The tiny demon girl sat amidst the shattered egg, her crimson skin glistening in the dim light of my room. She looked at me with glowing amber eyes, her expression curious and oddly playful for something that had just emerged from an egg that radiated pure terror moments ago.
"Uh, hey,"
I stammered, crouching down.
"You okay there? Need anything? A bottle of… fire milk or whatever demon babies drink?"
I'm a father now!?
The little demon tilted her head, her tiny horns catching the light. Then, to my shock, she grinned and said,
"Daddy!"
My brain short-circuited.
"Wh-what did you just call me?"
I stuttered, my face heating up.
"Daddy!"
she chirped again, her voice sweet and innocent, completely unaware of the weight of that word in the human world.
My face turned beet red as my thoughts spiraled. Why does that sound so… wrong coming from her? The Weeknd lyrics I'd been listening to earlier didn't help the situation.
"Okay, uh, listen,"
I said, trying to compose myself.
"I think we need to clarify something here. I'm not your… Daddy in the way you're thinking. I'm more like your…"
I waved my hands, searching for the right term.
"...babysitter. Yeah, let's go with that."
The girl just giggled, clapping her tiny clawed hands.
"Daddy!"
"No, no, no! Stop saying that!"
I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
"It's weird, okay? You're a kid, and that word has… other meanings where I'm from."
She tilted her head again, blinking at me with an innocent curiosity.
"What other meanings, Daddy?"
I froze, choking on my words.
"Oh, no. Nope! Not going there. You're too young for this conversation."
She burst into giggles, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
I sighed, slumping onto the floor.
"Great. I'm raising a playful little troublemaker who's already outsmarting me. This is gonna be fun."
The girl crawled closer, tugging at my sleeve.
"Daddy, play?"
I glanced at her mischievous grin and groaned.
"Fine, but we're setting some ground rules.
Rule one: Stop calling me Daddy."
She smiled wider.
"Okay… Dadd–."
"For fuck's sake!"
I blurted out in frustration, then froze as panic set in.
Her eyes sparkled with interest.
"Fuck?"
she repeated, tilting her head adorably.
"No! No, no, no, no, no!"
I waved my hands wildly.
"Don't say that! That's a bad word! A very, very bad word! Your dad will kill me if he finds out I taught you that!"
"Fuck?"
she said again, as if testing it out.
"Stop! No more! It's not a word, okay? It doesn't exist. Let's talk about… toys! You like toys?"
I scrambled to distract her, grabbing an old action figure of guts off my shelf.
"Look! This guy has a sword!"
She ignored the action figure, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"Fuck."
I groaned and buried my face in my hands.
"I'm dead. I'm so dead."