It was a midsummer afternoon when my friend answered his door looking exasperated and terrified. This was not how he usually answered the door and came as somewhat of a shock considering it was his idea that I come visit.

Before I could speak he turned away and walked toward the staircase. He looked whiter than the paint on the wall and moved rigidly while shaking, as if the air was constantly electrocuting him. I slowly followed behind, the wood floorboard creaking in the silence. As we descended into the basement he whispered, “just try your best to ignore it.” It was so barely audible that I could not tell if this was directed at me or himself.

Halfway down I noticed the wood panel looked darker, like it had been burnt. The basement was never that well-lit, but even with the lights on everything was still covered in darkness. The faint smell of soot and ash wafted through the air as we neared the bottom. In those few seconds I pieced together a narrative of what happened. John must have started a fire in his basement while his parents were away on vacation. But the more I thought about it the more inconsistencies showed up. How could this much be burned without a firetruck showing up? Shouldn’t I have smelled smoke?  

When we finally reached the bottom, I looked around until my eyes found the corner and all thinking ceased. A chill crept up my body as if a ghost passed through it. She was partially hidden behind the foosball table and the dog cage so I could only see her upper half. It looked like a human woman, except her skin was incredibly pale and slightly blue in tone. A crown of horns circled the top of her scalp. Her hair, if you could call it that, was straight, solid and impossible to see through. It covered most of her body and her eyes. Her hair left only the middle of her body exposed. However, the comparisons to a human or any normal animal ended at her waist. Her lower body ballooned outwards like a poofy skirt, a skirt made of flesh and blood. It was like she was a mermaid, if her lower half was a worm.

She remained silent and waited in the corner. We went past her, sat on the couch, turned on GTAV and started playing. At the time, I’m not quite sure what I was thinking. You see things from time to time like ghosts and monsters. They appear in the peripheral, in dark spaces hidden in the shapes of clothing, just out of place enough that you can’t ascertain their physical presence but feel the impact on your cognition. And I think that’s what I was telling myself at the time, that it was a model, a mixture of objects that my mind conveniently interpreted as a ghost. So I did ignore it. Her stillness and alien-like form convinced me she was surely some kind of statue made by one of John’s brothers. I don’t know what John’s brothers do for a living, but it was more believable than thinking she was real.

I mentioned that there’s going to be some update soon, anything to lighten the mood. “The update is going to improve animations and change the online gameplay. I can’t remember when, but it’s pretty awesome that they still care about the game.” John stared at the screen in silence.  

“August 1st.” A feminine voice interjected. She looked almost frightened, like she’s was being judged. She probably thought she was meant to fulfill some purpose only to find herself being ignored. “August 1st, is when changes to the game Grand Theft Auto Five will be implemented.” She squirmed under the pressure of our eyes. We turned back to the game, only for her to speak up again.

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“uu-um. Wouldn’t it be better to do something like this in reality? I don’t see how this simulation could be joyous?” It was at this time that I felt it was appropriate to leave.

I got up to leave and John followed right behind me. At the door he grabbed my arm, but I continued walking, dragging him outside.

“Vincent. Please help me.”

“What is that thing?! How did she even get here? What Did You Do?”

And John looked at me very calmly and without a speck of humor in his voice said, “I spilt some poprocks and soda and it just so happened to form a perfect summoning circle. I think.” He immediately turned away.

We stood there, looking in different directions.

“Well, you might as well tell me what’s happened.”

Essentially, with his parents gone, John decided to relocate a bunch of food to the basement. During which, as he was transferring poprocks and soda, two perfect ingredients for summoning as it so happens, his dog ran into him causing the contents to spill all over the floor. However, when doing so, the soda and poprocks fell into such a perfect formation that it created a summoning circle. The conditions of being made under a priest’s household somehow added to the whole effect, maximizing the summoning power.

“The floor opened and she erupted from the circle with an explosion of ash. Then after covering everything with dirt she demanded my name and stated her own.”

“…Which was?”

“Uh, well it was a lot of complicated sounding names. Apparently, she’s known by humans as Sticks and Akiron, but she prefers to go by Happy.”

“Styx? Like the river?”

“Huh? I guess. That was like, 30 minutes before you came over.”

“You’re telling me that there’s this eldritch abomination in your basement that may or may not be a portal into Hell itself, all because you spilt your soda?

“And poprocks.”

“Well, her face is kind of cute.”

“Cute? Her face is like a dinner plate. L-look that doesn’t help me. She seems to think I summoned her under a serious ritual. That because it took place in the ‘lowest quarter of a priest’s personal shelter’ that she was specifically summoned for something, man I don’t know! She thinks I’m some kind of warlock!”

“Well, uhhh.” My mind failed to cooperate.

“I can’t believe something like this is happening! You know I’m supposed to get married soon! My life has been completely on track for these last few years! It’s like I won some kind of negative lottery! What the hell am I supposed to do when my father gets home?”

“Well we’ll figure something out,” I say as I try to leave.

“Please don’t leave” John said pitifully. “I can’t even begin to think of what to do. My mind is like a constant white noise. Just give me some kind of guidance. Anything.”

“Well.” I take a moment to collect my thoughts. “The problem is that we simply don’t know enough. I suppose the ideal situation is that she just goes back to where she came from if you asked her to return. You can take your chances with that but I would be pretty mad if you called me over and told me to go home as soon as I got here.”

“Don’t do that. Got it.”

“Right. So the next most important thing is finding out what you are in relation to her. Are you her master? Or are you zealot? Try asking her what she can do and what she needs. It seems to me that you have some kind of mastery over her, but it could also simply be that she’s confused by her surroundings and is waiting for someone else to properly address her.

“Ask her what her deal is. Got it.”

“Then finally, maybe you should talk to your dad about this? He Is a priest after all.”

“That is an incredibly bad idea. That is the worst idea you’ve ever had ever.”

“Great. After you figure all this out, maybe just try to delay by saying further instructions are pending. She probably won’t like that. In the meantime, I’ll try to do research on my end. I’ll be back tomorrow, or this is the last you’ll see me and I’d like to say it was a pleasure knowing you John.”

John looked like he wanted to cry. He spoke very quietly, “nnn. Yeah.”

“C’mon man it’s a joke! I’ll be back here first thing tomorrow! Ok?”

“Right.”