Tom sat in the corner booth of a small, old-fashioned diner, the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead blending with the distant rumble of thunder outside. His plate was empty save for a few stray crumbs, and his hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. The warmth seeped into his fingers, grounding him after the whirlwind of events that had turned his world upside down. The smell of grease and fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the quiet conversations of the few late-night patrons scattered around the diner.

For the first time in hours, he felt a faint sense of calm. The chaos of his arrival, the portal, and the revelation that he was in Gotham City all felt like a distant storm outside the window. He stared into the dark liquid in his cup, the faint reflections of the neon signs outside dancing on its surface.

Walking to the diner had crushed any lingering denial about where he had landed. A newspaper, half-soaked and stuck to the sidewalk, bore a bold headline about Superman thwarting an alien invasion over Metropolis. Billboards advertised Wayne Enterprises' latest technological advancements, and a poster in a shop window featured Wonder Woman as the face of a charity campaign. But the final nail in the coffin hung in the sky above—a glowing bat symbol, its edges diffused by the cloudy night.

The sight of it all left Tom cold. Whatever part of him had clung to the possibility that this was a horrible prank or some elaborate dream was now thoroughly silenced. He was in the DC Universe. Gotham City. And nothing about it seemed remotely safe.

A cheerful waitress with blonde hair and a bright smile came by to refill his mug. Her name tag read "Sarah," and she wore a blue apron with a quirky design of a little garlic character that read, "There’s no such thing as too much garlic." Tom smiled at the sight, finding a small bit of levity in the absurdity of everything.

“More coffee?” she asked, already pouring.

“Yes, please. Thanks,” he replied softly.

Sarah gave him a warm smile. “Long night, huh?” she said, her tone light but empathetic.

Tom chuckled weakly. “You could say that.”

She hesitated for a moment before leaning slightly closer. “Whatever it is, it’ll work itself out. Gotham’s got a way of testing people, but you look like you can handle it.” With that, she gave him a wink and moved off to tend to another table.

Tom watched her go, her words settling over him like a small blanket of reassurance. But as soon as she was gone, the calm began to erode. He stared back into his coffee, his thoughts darkening.

Pros and cons, he thought, gripping the mug tightly. In his old world, everything was mundane, painfully predictable. He’d wake up, go to work at the job he hated, come home to an empty apartment, and repeat the cycle. The crushing monotony had felt like a slow death, every failed opportunity adding to his hopelessness. But at least the stakes had been small. At least there hadn’t been monsters in the dark waiting to swallow him whole.

Here? This world was anything but mundane. It was vast, terrifying, and brimming with danger. Gotham alone was bad enough—a city where you could die just for walking down the wrong alley. But it wasn’t just Gotham that scared him; it was the entire DC Universe. Cosmic horrors, eldritch gods, villains capable of erasing entire cities. Worse, the inevitability of failure. He’d read enough stories to know how often the Justice League fell short, how heroes died protecting a fragile balance.

Why would anyone want to live here? he thought bitterly. Sure, there were heroes, but they weren’t invincible. For every victory, there was tragedy. If he stayed here, was that his future too?

But then again, what did he have to go back to? His old world had already crushed him. Here, he could at least pretend there was something bigger than himself, something worth fighting for. Maybe even a chance to prove that he wasn’t a failure.

His grip on the mug tightened, the steam swirling into his face. Did he even want to live in this world?

As Tom swirled the last dregs of his coffee, contemplating his next move, the diner was abruptly thrown into chaos. A thunderous explosion tore through the air, the front windows shattering into jagged shards that rained down on the patrons. The force of the blast knocked Tom out of his booth and onto the tiled floor, his head ringing as debris fell around him.

For a moment, all he could hear was the roar of the explosion and the muffled cries of the other patrons. Shaking his head, Tom forced himself to focus. Smoke billowed through the gaping hole where the entrance had once been, and through the haze stepped a figure that could only be described as a demon.

The being stood tall and imposing, its blue skin glistening like polished obsidian under the flickering lights. Two sharp, curved horns jutted from its skull, twisting toward each other in an almost ornamental pattern. Its black eyes glinted with malice, and a cascade of dark purple hair framed a face that was both unnervingly beautiful and utterly terrifying.

Blue flames danced at the creature’s feet, twirling in an unseen wind and licking at the broken remains of the diner’s furniture. Tom couldn’t tear his eyes away, even as his instincts screamed at him to run.

The other patrons were quicker to react. One man, a burly figure with a scar running down his cheek, drew a revolver from beneath his jacket. “GCPD! Everyone out! Now!” he barked, leveling the gun at the demon. Without hesitation, he fired.

The shots rang out, the sharp cracks reverberating through the diner. But the bullets never reached their target. The demon moved with impossible speed, vanishing in a swirl of black mist before reappearing behind the officer. With a single fluid motion, it seized him by the neck, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. The crack of his neck breaking was audible even over the chaos.

Tom’s stomach churned, and he scrambled to his feet, his thoughts a jumble of panic and dread. He had to get out—now. He pushed toward the door, weaving through the overturned chairs and fleeing patrons, but before he could reach the exit, the demon’s voice sliced through the air like a blade.

“Where do you think you’re going?” it purred, a hint of amusement in its tone.

Tom froze. Not by choice—his body refused to move, paralyzed by an unseen force. His mind raced, screaming at him to run, but his legs felt like lead. His breath quickened as he felt a hand—a slender, clawed hand—rest on his shoulder. Warm breath tickled his ear as the demon leaned in close, her presence overwhelming.

“I have some questions for you… traveler,” she whispered, her voice silky and laced with menace.

Tom’s mind reeled. How does she know? He couldn’t move, couldn’t even turn to face her, but the weight of her words pressed down on him like a vice. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the demon and the inescapable reality that he was in way over his head.

Before Tom could process what was happening, the demon tightened her grip, and the world around him dissolved. Colors blurred and swirled, the broken diner morphing into a maelstrom of shadows and flames. A cold wind howled in his ears, drowning out his thoughts as his stomach twisted with the disorienting sensation of being dragged through space.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

When the chaos subsided, Tom found himself standing on a jagged cliff overlooking a dark, stormy ocean. Waves crashed violently against the rocks below, their spray clawing upward like desperate fingers. The sky churned with black and crimson clouds, lightning illuminating the chaos. The air thrummed with an oppressive energy, and at the center of it all stood the demon.

She regarded him with sharp, calculating eyes, her presence both commanding and unnervingly alien. Her form shifted subtly, as if she were woven from the storm itself, each flicker of lightning casting eerie, ever-changing shadows across her.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice smooth and dripping with dark amusement. “Look what the void dragged in.”

Tom’s breath hitched as he took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to run. “Who… what are you?” he stammered, his voice barely audible over the thunder.

The demon smirked, taking a step closer, her movements as fluid and deliberate as a predator stalking its prey. “I have many names, little mortal, but for now, you may call me Kaelith. Consider me your… chaperone in this delightful little nightmare you’ve stumbled into.”

“Chaperone?” Tom repeated, his voice laced with both disbelief and fear. “Why do I need a chaperone?”

Kaelith’s smirk widened, revealing sharp teeth. “Because something—or someone—thought it would be amusing to throw you into a world you barely understand, surrounded by threats you can’t even begin to comprehend. Without me, darling, you’d already be dead. So, be grateful. I’m the only thing keeping you alive right now.”

Tom froze, her words slicing through him like a blade. She knows. The truth he’d been trying to deal with, to rationalize, now stood before him as undeniable as the crashing waves below. His chest tightened, and his thoughts spiraled. If she could see that, what else did she know?

Kaelith tilted her head, studying him with an expression that was half-annoyance, half-intrigue. But then, something in her sharp gaze shifted, a flicker of realization cutting through her arrogance. “You didn’t meet the entity that dragged you here, did you?” she asked, her tone more curious now, though laced with irritation. “You weren’t given a choice. They just plucked you up like a toy and tossed you into this delightful little hell.”

Tom blinked, startled by her change in tone. “Wait… you didn’t have a choice either?” he asked hesitantly, his fear giving way to a flicker of confusion.

Kaelith scoffed, her smirk twisting into something sharper. “Choice? Of course not. I’ve always been a resident of this charming little universe, but being forced to keep you alive?” She gestured to him with an annoyed flourish. “That’s entirely against my will. Trust me, traveler, if it weren’t for the delightful death clause tying your fate to mine, I wouldn’t waste my time playing babysitter.”

Tom took a small step back, her words washing over him. The fear hadn’t disappeared entirely—he’d just been kidnapped by a demon, after all—but there was something in her voice, an undercurrent of frustration that almost felt… relatable.

Kaelith sighed, shaking her head as if to brush off the momentary lapse. “Let’s get one thing clear, traveler,” she said, her tone hardening again. “I can’t kill you. I can’t even let you die. If you go down, I go with you—instantly, painfully, and completely.”

Tom frowned, his fear momentarily overridden by skepticism. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would something like you—” he gestured at her, trying not to flinch at the flicker of blue flames around her feet, “—be stuck in a situation like that? And how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Kaelith’s eyes narrowed, her smirk returning, this time sharper and more dangerous. “If I wanted you dead—or could kill you—you already would be,” she said flatly, her voice dripping with condescension. “What’s the point of wasting my time coming here, just to explain all this to you?”

She crossed her arms, the flames at her feet subsiding slightly. “Do you think I sprinted here from my realm for fun? No, it’s because when something rips a portal between alternate universes, it doesn’t go unnoticed,” Kaelith said, her tone sharp and edged with irritation. “I’m talking about mind-melting entities that spawn nightmares just by existing. You’re lucky the entity that stranded you here had the foresight to shackle someone like me to you. Without me shielding your presence, the big bads out there would’ve noticed you immediately—or worse, something else would have snatched you up before you even had a chance to breathe.”

Tom’s stomach twisted at her words. He didn’t doubt her sincerity, but the thought of how close he’d come to death didn’t make him feel any better. “So… you’re saying you’re stuck here because of me?” he asked cautiously.

Kaelith rolled her eyes, the glow around her dimming slightly. “Exactly. Your survival is the only thing keeping me alive now. So don’t mistake this for charity, traveler. I’m here to keep you breathing, not to hold your hand or play fairy godmother.”

Tom hesitated, the fear in his chest loosening its grip slightly. “If you can’t kill me, does that mean you can’t hurt me either?” he asked, a nervous edge to his voice.

Kaelith’s smirk turned wicked. “Oh, darling, don’t test that theory,” she purred. “There’s a difference between killing you and teaching you a lesson.”

Tom swallowed hard but nodded, taking her warning to heart. Despite her sharp edges, her limitations gave him some small sense of control, however fragile it might be.

Kaelith stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone. “Here’s the deal, traveler. You’re here now, and so am I. You want answers? Find them. You want a purpose? Make one. I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m here to make sure you don’t die before you figure it out.”

She paused, her smirk twisting into something more amused. “Oh, and one more thing—I’ll be living in your shadow. Literally. You won’t see me, but I’ll always be there. No point in jumping a second time.”

Tom’s breath steadied, though her words sent a chill down his spine. “Great,” he muttered. “A literal shadow demon following me everywhere.”

Kaelith tilted her head, her smirk widening. “You’ll thank me when you’re not dead… or maybe not.”

Before Tom could respond, Kaelith waved a hand, and the world twisted violently. The jagged cliffs and storm dissolved into swirling colors, leaving Tom dizzy as the familiar scent of coffee and grease returned. He blinked, finding himself seated back in the diner booth. Everything looked the same as it had before the chaos unfolded. The staff bustled about, the patrons chatted, and the atmosphere was calm.

Kaelith’s voice echoed in his mind, teasing. “Don’t mess this up, darling. I’ll be watching.”

Tom exhaled sharply, forcing himself to steady his breathing. The tension in his chest felt like a coiled spring ready to snap. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening, as he fought to keep his thoughts from spiraling into panic. "Just breathe," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "You’re still here."

When he opened his eyes, the familiar surroundings of the diner came into sharper focus. The scent of coffee and grease, the faint hum of conversation—everything was normal again, as if the explosion and Kaelith’s terrifying presence had never happened. But the memory lingered, as vivid and real as the steam rising from his cup.

Tom leaned back, his thoughts churning. He replayed Kaelith’s words in his mind, each revelation adding weight to his already-overwhelmed psyche. An entity had brought him here. It had tied Kaelith to his survival. And now, his life wasn’t just his own; it was tethered to a dangerous, cryptic being with her own stakes in the game.

He let out a hollow, bitter laugh. He couldn’t even kill himself anymore—not with a literal demon lurking in his shadow, ready to intervene before he got close. The one escape he’d clung to, the easiest solution to his despair, had been ripped away. Now, even his death wasn’t his own choice to make.

What does it all mean? he wondered, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. Kaelith had made one thing clear: she didn’t know everything, and whatever choices he made were entirely up to him. But that wasn’t reassuring—it was terrifying. This wasn’t just Gotham. It was the entire DC Universe, a world teeming with gods, monsters, and cosmic threats beyond his comprehension. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t even a particularly lucky guy. He was just… Tom.

The weight of it pressed down on him, threatening to pull him under. But he couldn’t afford to give in, not now. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to sit straighter. “Alright, Kaelith,” he muttered under his breath. “You want me alive? Fine”

He glanced around the diner, his gaze settling on the neon clock hanging above the counter. The world hadn’t ended. Not yet, anyway. Maybe that was something. Maybe, for now, it was enough. But the questions burned in his mind: What’s my role here? What does this entity want from me? He had no answers, only the faint, uneasy sense that his presence in this world was far from simple.

Tom closed his eyes again, gripping his cup as though it were an anchor. He didn’t know where this path would lead, but he knew one thing for sure: things got more complicated. And whether he liked it or not, he was here.