Me, Slayer of Demons, Very Suicidal

I’m going to kill myself.

My time here on this cruel planet is over. I’m gonna pull the plug on my life to make outlet space for the toaster, electrifying the agonizing bath that is my existence.

To absolutely ensure that no pesky skinwalkers such as “family members” or “EMT” stop my inevitable transformation from a dead man walking to just a dead man I’ve decided to pull all the stops (on my life).

I go to the living room, turn off the lights, scrawl the floor pentagrams with my piss blood, pull out the dimly lit candles my meemaw gave me last Christmas, change the TV’s channel to a nice, comforting, static, wait until 3 AM because that’s a dying trend and you know where this joke is going, and finally pull out my Hasbro™-made Ouija board underneath the coffee table.

Of course at this point you may be asking yourself “hey retard what are you doing, why don’t you just die like a real man and either shoot and/or hang yourself?” To that I have one point:

If this works, I have a 1000% chance of dying.

Say I use a gun and am sloppy with the way I handle it - that’s a lifetime of vegetabledom.

What if I use a rope and don’t tie it well enough? Not only could I unfortunately survive but worse I may live the rest of my life as a tube man, memories of life now solely consisting of the textures of ceilings and skies due to my broken neck.

A haunted spirit, a demon, or even the devil himself on the other hand? I’m guaranteed to die!

Look, my point is that in the worst case if this fails I go back to the tried-and-true method and just die from lead to the head while hanging from the ceiling. Best case scenario however, this succeeds so I don’t have to knock on Lady Luck’s door and ask if she can aim my gun for me.

Back to the things that actually matter in life - the Ouija wood piece! The final part of my puzzle, I pull it out and wait for the evil forces now, hopefully possibly maybe haunting my room, to do their bidding and complete the rest of the ritual for me. With the piece now on the board I rest my hands atop, my hope for man-made comprehensions beyond my comprehension at its peak. With the frantic wobbling of the piece in spite of my lack of motion it’s apparent that at least I’m smart enough to get this right.

“H”

“E”

“L”

“L”

“O”

Not wanting to be a rude host I greet my guest with a warm welcome.

“KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME KILL KILL ME MURDER ME STAB ME SHOOT ME BURN ME ALIVE FINISH ME OFF CHOP ME INTO PIECES END MY LIFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

He humbly accepts my welcome through a loud, abrasive screech from the TV. I turn my head with a smile on my face to the screen, the claws of an unfed beast frantically crawling its way out of the depths of hell towards my coffee table, its ghoulish horns so long as to leave marks on my ceiling, ensuring that whoever my money goes to will not be getting my deposit.

“I, THE GREAT DEMON, NUAPENS, HAVE BEEN SUMMONED INTO YOUR WRETCHED PLAIN TO WREAK HAVOC ON ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PURE! I DESPISE ALL WHO ARE VIRTUOUS, WHO ARE EXEMPLARY IN MORAL CHARACTER, WHO UPHOLD THE VALUES OF RIGHTEOUSNESS AND-”

In spite of his yippering and yappering going on for seemingly hours on end only his hands and face have emerged from the screen. I understand hell wasn’t built in a day but nonetheless I have places to be. I walk on over to the screen, grab both of his hands, and start pulling him out so he can finally end my life.

Within the first second of my plan to hasten the process his verbose speech immediately turns to a barrage of frantic screeches, pleas for mercy spliced between an equal amount of pathetic shrills as more of his body enters the world of mortals. With a loud thump and the “the pull” feeling noticeably lighter I take a step back to get a good look at Neptune’s (or whatever his actual name is’) entire body.

He still has that droopy pulsating tomato-face only a mother could love and his horns are still long-as-ever, thankfully no longer destroying the ceiling as he isn’t coming from the TV anymore, but there’s a jarring distinction on his body between the regular demon-looking ugly that comes from his face, horns and hands and the rest of his body.

For some odd, very coincidental reason, there’s an exact split between the parts of his body that emerged naturally not looking hideously deformed and potent and the parts that emerged from my “hostly nudge” being hideously deformed and very impotent. His arms compose of 80% of his length, not because he’s got noodle arms, but because he’s at a staggering 3’4 and his “legs” (they look more like twizzlers than something you would actually use to move) are at most 6 inches tall.

Continuing to get a good look at this accident that seemingly occurred for no reason at all, his shriveled up chest, his feet that now take the structure of a pirate’s peg-legs, his head separates itself from my Persian carpet and turns towards me, his face more tomato than the beginning of this kerfuffle.

“YOU SHALL FACE THE WRATH OF NUAPENS!”

He takes one swipe at me, misses, and his arms break off due to his maimed joints not being able to handle even the slightest exertion of force.

“YOU FOUL MORTAL! YOUR DEVIOUS TRICKERY HAS LEFT ME AS A SHELL OF MY FORMER SHELF! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF WEAKLING?”

“Your name is kinda gay and cringe.”

Slamming the sole of my shoe down on Neptune’s head I take pride in the fact that though I did not kill myself today, my shear passion and will, my indomitable human spirit, to end my life, led to the death of a demon. Spending the next couple of minutes staring at Neptune’s rotting corpse I came to the conclusion that life is worth living, that there are plenty of good reasons for one to continue.

Like killing demons!

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Pub: 18 Nov 2023 12:32 UTC
Edit: 19 Nov 2023 00:10 UTC
Views: 188