There was a knock at the door.

I’m not lying when I say that whenever there was a knock on the door, my heart raced in my chest. I’m not lying when I say that any stranger at the door causes me fright, but when I gazed upon a tall pale skinned guy with no lips at my front door covered in blood, I peed my pants. I immediately knew who he was, the demon of my heart Samael Ozriel. My favored character had paid me a visit, and when I was done with my fear at the knocking on my door, and all too real horror struck me.

“Hello.” he said as he entered my apartment unimpressed by the surroundings.
“Uh, hey. Look, I’m not your type of victim, right?” I asked, trying to make sure I was safe before I ran behind me to grab one of the swords leaning against my bookcase. “And care to explain the blood?”

“Your neighbors. Parked in the driveway, couldn’t get in with my speeder so I killed them. I bathed in their blood and made a wind chime for you out of their ribs. I took the liberty of hanging them up. Also, their kids are gonna be leaving now cause, well..no parents. So, here’s to hoping your new neighbors are cooler, eh?” said Samael, giving me a thumbs up and raising his eyebrows up and down.

“I don’t know if I should say I appreciate it or lie to you and say I think that was horrible.”

“I wouldn’t thank me just yet, I’m probably going to kill you too. Nothing personal, I just haven’t gone through that change yet that you are planning to write, so you’re fair game still.” said the Umbaran as he grabbed me by the shoulder. He looked down, and saw the urine on my pants.

“My creator is a little wimp.” he said.

“Yeeeeah. Little wimp, me. Against a guy with magical powers that has no lips. I mean, seriously, what was I thinking of when I gave you no lips. And I wrote you killing kids, then immediately said I didn’t. That was weird huh?”

“Gave me whiplash.”

“Sorry bout that, had to try and make you more palatable. Tarentum is more dark roast, Odan-Urr not so much. They’re like a lighter roast, which is fine. It’s totally cool, right?”

“Am I killing you or not? A little torture, a little mayhem?” asked Samael, readying himself to attack me.

“You didn’t get your fill when you killed my neighbors?” I asked, indicating the blood on his chest.

“They were like an appetizer, you could be my main course.” said Samael.

“Or, you could always read this fiction I just wrote, and tell me what you think.” I said as I turned on my laptop and showed him my Facing The Mirror competition. “That’s going to be canon, so how do you feel about that?”

“Ya know, that is probably the cheapest way to get out of dying in a fiction I have ever seen. You made me read a fiction where I become at the very least Gray enough to not kill random people for random things, meaning I won’t kill you. You also just included this to make it over the 500 word mark you lazy man you.” said Samael as he left my apartment.

It was then I realized I needed to lay off the drugs.