[ WP ] A cult tries to summon a demon/God but manages to summon you instead .

``...'' 
 
 `` Oh my, I mean, sir. Um, you're here.'' 
 
 ``...'' 
 
 `` We feel that, please, if you will, come meet our Seek. He can explain. Is that okay? I'm sorry if you had... errands.'' 
 
 The god, a Korean-American male in his late-twenties, in a brick plaid button-down, worn corduroy pants and untouched, still stiff and rubbery Converses, while making his way to the campus library to continue cramming for his HESI-A2 ( one of several exams used to grant admission to nursing school ) suddenly, between blinks, finds himself in a dusty and humid two-car garage -- it smelt like moldy shoeboxes and crayons. There was a kimchi fridge. 
 
 He's not overwhelmed. With merely four hours of sleep and already lulled by the droning white-noise of a dated ( 1989 ) yet life-changing self-help seminar ripped straight from the TV, obligated by his hometown buddy as their friendship had been but reduced to the sharing of YouTube videos -- their obsessions had grown apart, but his buddy was spacey and sometimes just unmindful -- he was barely paying attention. `` This is our shift!'' Patrick puts aside a dozen hours a week for such videos, the one before last being:'Joe Rogan Experience # 275 - Dave Asprey'. He listened for a full hour and 35 minutes before he arrived to his lecture that past Thursday, leaving his headphones halfway-on for another 4 minutes as the professor was settling in and had n't yet acknowledged the classroom -- he finished it before he fell asleep that night. These not quite committed 2 hours and 21 minutes defined their friendship, as if they'd no doubt spent time together, if only as his buddy's spirit came through in Rogan's and Asprey's talkfest, with Patrick as the absent listener. It was something. 
 
 The Seekers looked up at him, not solely in view of Patrick as their potential god, but because they were literally dwarfish -- allowing for their growing cult-like operation to temporarily make do in a cramped garage ( a mid-level overseer would be a few weeks from closing a deal on a modest 2-bedroom garden apartment, further legitimizing their affairs ). Patrick, with dark-circled eyes glanced back at the little bunch, as the rest abandoned their table duties ( all standing atop the seats of stained chrome-yellow cafeteria tables lining opposite walls, donated [ relieved of ] in gratitude by the local elementary as Seekers made effective playtime sitters in that 10 to 12 year old boys interacted with them as mere curious, but sometimes wise peers and not as the looming disciplinarians that existed solely to be fucked with ) and, too, took him in. 
 
 There was much to make sense of: he had blinked into another space, was surrounded by dwarves looking up at him in awe, waiting to be introduced to a'Seek', and all the while his headphones buzzed, ``... is the first step in turning the invisible into the visible.'' Patrick had to wake up, now. He gently placed his hand onto the wee shoulder of a Seeker to his left and nudged him aside as he made way to a worktable -- none of them reacted. He saw mostly paperwork -- drafted in English -- but noticed a row of red ink droppers each paired with a handful of blueish vitamin-like tablets. But before he could react the backdoor opened, it was the Seek. 
 
 `` Welcome, we are the Harmless Seekers.'' Patrick listened. `` Upon receiving a tip, and at random as our current operations are limited, we've been monitoring your activities since March of the last decade. And we, with conviction, have confirmed that you are, indeed, harmless. 
 
 Patrick looked as if he'd been found out. 
 
 `` This likely comes as no surprise, therefore we need not review your harmless highlights,'' The Seek went on. `` Rather, let me get straight to the point: We ask you, being the most harmless creature we've observed since we registered, if you'd like the honor of being our official spokesperson for the Harmless Seekers? A harmless, say, god among us dwarves.'' 
 
 Patrick was brimming with questions but did n't think it was appropriate to ask. He was insulted, too, but was n't surprised that they had sought him. `` Was this an opportunity?'' he seriously considered. He'd miss another cram session, and that was n't fair, as he could n't afford the time and money to fail again. And he's still, somehow, in this garage. There are dwarves. 
 
 `` What the fuck...?'' Patrick whispered to himself. 
 
 `` Excuse me?'' asked the Seek. 
 
 `` What the fuck is going on?'' Patrick demanded. 
 
 `` Thank you for your time.'' 
 
 Patrick blinked and he was 17-years old, back in his stinky garage, fiddling with his base guitar.
