DEMON ,Familiar

The first time I saw him, it was a Friday evening.

I opened the door, and he was stuck to the ceiling—arms and legs spread like a spider—staring at me with bulging, blood-red eyes.

Strangely, I wasn’t afraid. It felt like I had known him forever.

Like he was no more surprising than a housecat I’d had for years.

From that day on, he was always with me.

In the car. On the street. At the office.

He’d appear out of nowhere, sometimes even arriving before me.

I knew no one else could see him.

He was a strange, imaginary creature.
A triple-pronged tail, long leathery tongue, rough skin like horn, clawed fingers.
Not scary, exactly—more absurd. Laughable, even.

His size changed constantly—sometimes as small as a mouse, sometimes as big as a crocodile.
Once, I saw him shrunk down, hanging from the chandelier like a bat, watching TV.
His shadow on the wall startled me at first… but then I saw him and couldn’t help laughing.
He didn’t like that.

He immediately leapt onto the coffee table, grew into a giant lizard, and glared at me like he was offended.

Up until yesterday, I’d never seen him eat anything.
But yesterday, through the restaurant window, I saw him leap off my car hood, reach into a filthy gutter, and pull out a fat rat.
He held it up, studied it curiously, and then stuffed it sideways into his mouth.