Gap Demon
It was late spring of nineteen ninety-five. I had been out of work for two months, living off savings. I had cut contact from most friends months ago and could not bear the pity I would receive if I crawled back to my parents for help. I was drinking and posting on BBSes while watching TV absent-mindedly like the day before and the day before that. If I had not been so caught up in the unproductive routine, maybe I would have noticed the gap that had appeared and been able to hide before she came out. Within that gap was a void containing piercing red eyes that could shake up even the most stoic of men. A blonde-haired woman holding a parasol emerged from the gap. Her eyes looked like that of a predator eying its prey. I instinctively tried to run but found myself petrified in terror. I was trembling with a feeling of dread tenfold that of death. "Get back!" I weakly shouted.
The weak exclamation elicited an amused smile upon her lips making me break out in a cold sweat. "Why would I do that? I wasted energy to come here and you want me to go away empty-handed?" She questioned.
"What do you want?" I asked, fearing the answer, but if there was anything I could give to get the foreboding presence to leave, I would do so in a heartbeat. Left in the wake of my question was an uncomfortable silence. She looked like she was thinking. I took the opportunity to take a closer inspection of her. I could not help but notice the flawlessness of her features: Fair unblemished skin, Silky-smooth hair, an hourglass figure. If her mere presence didn't bring a shiver down my spine I'd say she was beautiful, but the perfection of her appearance only reaffirmed my beliefs that she could not possibly be human, only something to fear.
"I was planning to make you my meal, but I had an idea on the spur of the moment." I felt my fear slightly alleviated at that. She was no longer planning to kill me, or so I thought. "It would be more fun to see how long you can survive," she said in a whimsical tone.
My panic was back, severe as ever. This time, however, my body listened to instinct and went into a mad dash. I quickly made a beeline for my apartment room's exterior door. Making haste, I slammed open the door and continued the sprint outside. I lost awareness to the world around me—buildings, streets, people I was shoving aside. Only the act of running bore presence in my mind. Breathing grew difficult and my legs burned with fatigue. I was pushing myself as hard as I could go, running like my life depended on it, because it truly felt as though it did. I feared death at the hands of that gap-demon if I were to slow for even a second. I do not know how long I ran. I took in my surroundings when I finally stopped. I was in an alleyway, two dumpsters being the most noticeable breaks from the emptiness of that place. I breathed raggedly trying to catch my breath, but the rancid smells from the dumpsters made doing so unpleasant.
"Phew," I wiped the sweat from my brow with my sleeve. I looked behind me and saw nothing. I nearly collapsed from the feeling of relief that swept over me. "I got away away from her."
"Got away from who?" an all too familiar voiced asked. I turned towards the voice fearing what I knew was there. The demon. She was staring at me impassively, her top-half lazily outside a gap that appeared behind me after I turned around. My legs gave out and I fell to the ground, too exhausted to run anymore. "You run pretty fast, but it's pointless to try to escape," she said in a matter-of-fact way.
In hindsight, it had been rather foolish to think I could escape by simply running away. She had me cornered and scared. Slowly, I had gotten up. I felt my anger welling up towards that blonde-haired demon, her face expressing curiosity as she observed me as though I were an animal on display at a zoo. With intense hatred towards the one that I believed would be my death driving me, I decided to fight back with everything I could muster. I charged at the gap-demon. My fist was ready to punch with every bit of energy I had left. Meeting my effort was pain. It felt like I hit a brick wall. I held my aching hand wishing for the pain to dull. She looked at me amused. I had failed, unable to even bruise the monster. She raised one hand up to my chest, index finger drawn back. Then she flicked me, and in that single flick she had sent me flying back as if a horse had kicked me. Flat on my back with newly bruised ribs, I was unable to get up out of pain and fatigue.
"I don't know if it was bravery, fear, or stupidity that drove you to strike me, but I admire your tenacity all the same. Hold on to that fire, it may keep you alive for a few minutes longer," she said. Her facial expression shifted to an unreadable one that I believed malicious. Though I saw only a glimpse of it, burned forever in my soul was that unreadable expression. Seeing it made me want to make her regret toying with my life—taking my freedom live and go as I pleased. As I sunk into a gap I thought of vengeance.