How the World Ends (A Demon!Stuck Fanfiction)

A Most Wonderful Ghost

You paused in your writing. You had been on the edge of an important decision for a while now, and were abruptly certain of the path you wished to choose. It was a question that had tormented you your entire life, and you only saw fit to change your answer at this time. Gently, you put down your pencil and composed yourself, ready to bring a certain entity forth.

"My dear, I have been quite patient and driven to my wits end trying to make a pact with you." He brought it up right away. You knew him to be a figure who does not beat around the bush, so it was no surprise when he immediately spoke of the pact. Though that was what you wanted to hear at this point, his presence in your mind made you shiver. You knew, of course, exactly what he wanted. He was waiting for someone, his boss you supposed, to arrive. Or rather, he had to bring about the arrival of whomever this strange character was. Honestly, you had had no interest in creating this pact, especially with the things he told you. That was why you had silenced him. He was interferring with your life too much, and in all honesty he scared you quite a bit.

You had been eight years old when you first saw him. It seemed while he thought himself a proper gentleman, you could only think of him as a bully. Not the kind that engaged in frivolous rough housing and stole the money you needed for lunch, but the kind that beat you down with insults in the guise of compliments until you were purging yourself of sorrow with a razor blade.

He reminded you of your mother in the passive-aggressive way he pushed at the problem, but at the same time, he had always been more put together and attentive than your mother ever was. He had been present for key moments of your life when she had not, and he always buttered your ears with his greasy praise. Though you supposed it wasn't entirely your mother's fault; the mysterious wiles of intoxicating liquors held her forever in their enticing embrace.

He had spoken to you when there was no one else around. He had explained, "It would be most certainly rude to occupy the young lady's attention while she wishes to direct it elsewhere." You had thought him a rather eerie imaginary friend, until you realized that most other kids outgrew theirs by the age of 10.

Out of curiosity you became fascinated with psychology, in discovering what could have twisted your psyche into creating this phantom. The green man always insisted that he wasn't a figment of your imagination, that he was simply a creature from another time. You scarcely believed him, and wouldn't listen to his talk of "pacts" and "rituals".

You told your mother about the strange green man when you were 9. Had she been the type of mother who was easily worried by such a thing, you're sure the rest of your adolescence would have been filled with a whirlwind of tests and therapists. Fortunately for you she took it as yet another strike in your never-ending battle of passive-aggressive spats, and bought you a series entitled "The Real Reasons of Why Children Create Imaginary Friends". You used that particular piece of literature to make many paper chain dolls resembling your mother and yourself, and decorated the halls outside of her room with them.

When he did speak to you, he did so with respect. He said he liked young girls because they had so much potential in them. He said you had potential in yourself, and he could help you realize it. Then he started telling you to do things.

He showed you what you could only interpret to be strange magicks. He was able to move things, or he could twist your mind into thinking he moved them. It seemed he could make you do a lot of things, except make a pact with him.

You steadfastly refused his advances. One of the few auspicious things your mother ever taught you in life was to not listen to strange men. Not to trust men in general. You discovered later in life, with the help of some of your books and a bit of intuition, that she had had many instances in which her heart was broken. But that's a story for another time.