Feeling Of Missing Out

Meeting A Demon

I'm now inside the pink light beam. There is no one and nothing else here physically. Just a voiceover.

'Make up for missed opportunities.'

That's all it keeps saying, every thirty seconds. With no knowledge of the way home from inside of my own laptop, I decide to try speaking to the voice.

"Hello? Who's there?" A loud hiss is the reply as the light increases to an almost blinding level of luminous.

"I would like to make up for missed opportunities!" I scream the only thing I can think will work and give in to the demands of the formless voice. Just then, the light drops to a level that human eyes can be comfortable with. I rub my eyes as the colour dots persist to flash around my vision. It takes a good minute or two before I can see straight again. And now that I can, I see a door. I suppose I've come too far to ignore this clearly signposted opportunity.

I turn the golden doorknob and step through into the next room. A man sits there watching a video on his laptop. He has a laptop inside my laptop? Why am I even questioning things anymore? Let's just see what the deal is here.

"Goodness me! Don't you knock before coming into someone's office?"

"Oh um, sorry. It's my first time here."

"Did your family raise you in a barn? Goodness me, I could have been doing anything!"

"Sorry about that. I can leave and knock this time?"

"You had best. I only serve those with good manners." He's a bit uptight for a demon living inside my computer, but I do as he wishes. I leave the room and when I go to turn around, the door is no longer there. Instead, the door is now on the opposite side of the waiting room where the light was obscuring my vision. I knock loudly, and then stand and wait for a reply. The door opens on its own as – presumably - the demon yells 'come in, please!'

"Hello."

"Ah hello there. It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Skye."

"It's nice to meet you too. How do you know my name and who are you?"

"Everyone always asks those questions. I'll start with the more obvious former. Your computer's login details are clear for me to see. I can see your name, date of birth, everything you post online and even delve into your internet history if I so wish."

"Yikes. Sorry. I'm quite lonely."

"It's alright! I find it quite humorous really. But out of the kindness of my silicone chip heart, I won't embarrass you by mentioning anything further on the subject of your...quiet time."

"Thanks. So who are you?"

"Aha! My name is Dysphor. I am the gender inconsistency demon who appears when I see someone at odds with their true self. The human world long ago cracked the code on how to restrict us demons from ever setting foot once more upon their tarmac or grassy, sunlit uplands. So we had to digitalise and seek out those in need by any modern means necessary. You were lucky you happened to use a laptop. We once had to pull someone in through their blender."

"Did they die?"

"At first, absolutely. The blades pulverised their flesh and some form of pinkish slurry appeared before me in the waiting room. I had to restore their body, which did allow me to grant them the changes they wished for most as a sort of way to say, as you humans would, 'my bad.' "

"Jeez! Yeah, I suppose I got off lightly."

"Got off? Like your private time? Haha!"

"Hey! You said you wouldn't talk about that again!"