[ WP ] While putting your favorite condiment on a sandwich , you accidentally draw a symbol that summons demons .

I just wanted a hoagie. 
 Really. That ’ s all! Is that so much to ask? 
 Instead, I ended up with a demon, named Hoggy. Seriously. I would say I taste the irony, but that really just adds insult to injury. 
 
 
 I had just come home from work. I was starving. I thought I might actually die if I didn ’ t eat. ( That might be a bit hyperbolic, but I ’ m a millennial who only thinks in absolutes. ) 
 
 
 I wrangled all the ingredients from the fridge: the meat, the cheese, the mustard…oh, the mustard. As long as I live, I will never again trust mustard. 
 
 
 I ripped a hard roll in half. Couldn ’ t even wait to attempt to slice it with a knife – I was TOO. HUNGRY. I stuffed some turkey breast in, slapped on a slice of cheddar, and shook the mustard to avoid that weak mustard water that always seems to predate the actual goods. I popped the top off, squeezed some into the roll with the rest of the mess, and turned to put it back in the fridge. I ’ ve been burned too many times with leaving everything out after eating, you see. 
 
 
 Big fucking mistake. As I turned, I heard a low humming, almost like the sound my fridge makes…but not quite. I cocked my head to the side and listened harder, assuming my 1990s fridge was finally giving up the good fight. 
 
 
 The humming grew louder. Vibrations began to rattle my spice rack, subtly at first but growing ever strong. The hum became a dull roar in just a few seconds, as I was on all fours looking under my fridge for a sign of the death of the appliance. 
 
 
 A blinding flash of light spread out like a shock wave from my countertop, where my dinner ( that I would never eat ) sat innocently, waiting to slake my hunger and make all my dreams come true. The light was strangely red-tinted, and as I faced my fridge – again, this all happened in a few seconds – I was reminded vaguely of a certain movie with a certain supernatural being that lived in the freezer, in a vast and endless wasteland. 
 
 
 Then suddenly, my kitchen returned to being like any other kitchen. The rattling of the jars and cans stopped, and the roaring drained away and left me wondering if I had just had a hunger-induced seizure. Alas, no such luck. 
 
 
 I turned back towards my ill-fated sandwich, to find a demon squatting there. No more than a foot high, it sat back on its haunches and gave me a hard once-over. If you ’ ve never been checked out by a demon, I don ’ t recommend it. The thing was a dusty red, scaly, with hands the size of its torso ending in claws it raked on the counters. There goes the security deposit. We locked eyes for a solid ten seconds, in a look that was more intimate than most of the one-night stands I ’ ve had. 
 
 
 It muttered something in a strange, guttural tongue. My face instantly gave away my confusion, which clearly pleased the little fucker. In English, it growled, “ Here I am. Thanks for the lift. ” 
 
 
 What the fuck, I thought to myself. The seizure started looking more and more likely. In this bizarre new land I was experiencing, I decided to play along. It was just my subconscious as I lay on my kitchen floor, so what was the harm? 
 
 
 “ Uh. You ’ re welcome, I guess. ” No one said I had to be clever. 
 
 
 “ Now that I ’ m free, what kind of trouble you want to kick up? ” It bared its teeth in a mischievous grin, an expression that scared the shit out of me, hallucination be damned. 
 
 
 “ What are you talking about? Who are you? ” 
 
 
 “ My name is my currency and you haven ’ t earned that yet. ” 
 
 
 I considered this. It seemed like solid demon logic. “ Where did you come from? ” 
 
 
 “ Below. ” 
 
 
 “ Well, ” I said, deliberately, “ How did you get here? ” 
 
 
 “ You drew the symbol. You gave me a lift. ” 
 
 
 I leaned against the fridge and covered my face with my hands. “ What the fuck are you talking about, little man? I ’ m starving. I just want to eat my sandwich and sit on the goddamn couch. ” 
 
 
 It was up and off the counter before I could lower my hands. Those freakish paws, with their ten ragged daggers, pressed against either side of my head. I peeked out from between my fingers to see its gleaming black eyes inches from my own. “ Don ’ t. Call. Me. That. 
 
 
 “ You summoned me. You drew the symbol, ” it snarled. “ I don ’ t know how you did it, or who told you to draw it. The fact remains, you summoned me, and until you draw the contra I will stay here, with you. ” 
 
 
 I thought back to what I had been doing, pre-hallucination. If it was a hallucination. It was seeming a little too real – you ’ re not supposed to feel pain in dreams, right? The claws at my temples were a bitter taste of reality. Retracing my steps, I contemplated…the mustard? The fucking mustard??? 
 
 
 It smiled, seeing that I was putting the pieces together. Knowing that I had summoned it by accident. I don ’ t know how much the little shit can read minds, but let me tell you, it ’ s more than a little. Once it realized I couldn ’ t send it back, couldn ’ t draw the contra, it released my head and resumed its relaxed pose, this time on the floor. 
 
 
 Through its gutted, rotted teeth it said, “ I am called Hoggy. And we ’ re going to have some fun together. ” 

