My fingertips brushed against the keyboard, tapping gently against the letters. On the laptop's screen, a page of words glowed, paragraph after paragraph after paragraph.

"I seriously need to stop procrastinating," I said softly to myself. "Six pages are due tomorrow, and I've only knocked out three so far."

Sat at the kitchen table, I glanced over at the oven clock. 132:1/41/4 shined in green letters.

What kind of clock is that?

I then looked to the window near the living room, where the darkness of night crept like a beast in wait. Different from the rows of lights that smiled from the ceiling indoors.

Wonder how back home is looking . . .

Just then, a voice flowed from the top of the nearby staircase.

"Oh, MC~," it sang happily.

Next came the footsteps, thumping and thumping as the person skipped.

Before I knew it, she appeared before me, as terrifying as when I first laid my eyes on her. A little girl, no older than nine, maybe ten. She wore a tattered gray dress with a white undershirt, covering her white-like-marble skin. Dark hair fell down to her shoulders. But my focus leaned more towards the oddities: the wide smile packed with rotting teeth; the black marks staining her cheeks, stretching up to her ears; the hollow eye sockets that looked like endless black holes. Her legs appeared normal, human, but for arms, limbs darker than shadows showed, complete with slender fingers and sharpened claws.

"Hi, MC!" the girl cheered, her grin widening.

"Hey there, Agatha," I replied, my own lips curving a little. "I thought I told you my name before."

"You did, but I think 'MC' is a way better fit! Don't ya think?"

"Whatever tickles your fancy, I guess."

I kinda don't wanna ask what "MC" stands for . . .

Agatha leaned in towards me, her curiosity pouring over my laptop.

"Whatcha dooooin?" she asked.

"Homework," I told her. "Essay's due tomorrow, and I had the brightest idea to not start it till last minute."

"Essay? What's an essay?"

I raised my eyebrow at her. "You don't know what an essay is?"

Agatha perched her hands on her hips. "Goody goody gumdrops, don't you know how young I am? The most I do is learn how to scare the heck out of mortals like you. Doi!"

"You say that like I'm supposed to understand . . ."

Switching the topic, the little girl sprang to my backside, then climbed onto my shoulders.

"Never mind that," she said. "Come play hide-and-seek with me!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't right now," I answered. "This paper is worth twenty percent of my grade. I can't exactly turn a blind eye to it."

"If you all have to do is turn in a piece of paper, you're basically already done."

"Well, no, I didn't mean a literal piece of . . . A paper is the same as . . ."

How do you explain schoolwork to a demon?

Agatha pushed and pulled on me, rocking us both back and forth.

"Come play with me!" she pushed. "Come play with me!"

My eye twitched a little.

How did it end up like this? I wondered, knowing full well the answer.

One minute, I was cutting straight through Wester Park to get back to my dorm; the next, a monster with a red face and black horns came charging at me. I was scared out of my mind. I mean, who wouldn't be? Dude had glowing eyes. Glowing eyes!

Like any normal person, I thought my life had reached the finish line, and I thought he was about to end me too. But then Agatha came strolling in, screaming and roaring that "Daddy didn't let her have any fun." Next thing I knew, the man, apparently named Malak, spared me on the condition that I give his daughter a playmate.

In other words, in the span of five minutes, I went from being your typical college student to someone who occasionally traveled to a different dimension just to babysit a demon daughter.

I should've just asked him to kill me . . .

Agatha wasn't taking "no" for an answer.

"Play with me. Play with me. Play with me."

Any second now, I would be experiencing the worst kind of whiplash.

But she stopped, just as another set of footsteps marched down the staircase. A moment later and Malak appeared, dressed in a gray suit with a red tie. His eyes still shone orbs of orange, as did his mouth when he parted his lips.

"Daddy, are you heading out?" Agatha asked.

"Indeed, I am," Malak answered. "A fresh batch of mortals just entered Wester, and I need just a bit more to reach my quota."

So the park is your spot, huh? Remind me never to take a stroll through there ever again.

Agatha hopped off of me and faced her father.

"Let me go with you," she said. "I just love getting new friends!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but this is Daddy's work. You can't come along. Why don't you go play with MC?"

You're calling me that too!?

Agatha frowned. "But they won't play with me. They told me they had to finish a paper, whatever that means."

"Is that so?" Malak turned his menacing gaze to me. "Is that how a babysitter should act?"

Guilt shot through me like fire. Even so, I kept my stance.

"With all due respect," I said, "I have an essay worth a fifth of my grade that's due tomorrow. Now, could I have planned to get it done beforehand? Absolutely! Did I? Not one bit! I have no regrets."

Malak just stared, and though his expression was practically blank, I could feel his judgement pressing against me.

"I should've taken your soul that night," he said.

"If I fail this class, I'll be begging you to take it."

The demonic father let out a sigh. "I suppose you're the only babysitter I have at the moment, and I can't exactly replace you so easily."

Replace? That's not very nice.

Malak looked back to Agatha and said, "Dear, how about you wait for MC to finish, and when I get back, I'll make you your own pot of marrow stew?"

Agatha shot her claws into the air. "Marrow stew? That's my favorite! Hooray!"

Malak then whispered to himself, "With that plan, I'll have to make a quick stop at the market before I return here."

The idea popped in my head like a cloud of balloons.

"Hey, Agatha," I said, "why don't the two of us go buy the groceries?"

The demon girl smiled. "Really!?"

Malak, on the other hand, looked more shocked than anything.

"Don't you have that schoolwork to complete?" he asked.

"I do," I said, "but a break once in a while isn't too bad."

"Then how come you won't play with me?" Agatha asked.

"Because I'm assuming that once we start, we'll be playing for hours. A break is fine, but I do intend to finish this paper by tomorrow. A trip to the market shouldn't be too time-consuming."

The little demon girl threw her hands in the air. "A trip to the store with MC! I can hardly wait!"

"You sure that's a good idea?" Malak asked. "Humans are quite the delicacy around here."

I shrugged. "I'm guessing I'll have to go outside at some point if I keep doing this job, so I might as well get used to it now."

The demon father appeared impressed.

"You're one brave mortal," he praised.

Brave,

or just very dumb?

You decide!

Shelves, normal.

Merchandise, normal.

Heck, even the shopping cart I pulled was normal.

Granted, for light, the store offered spheres of flames that levitated near the ceiling. (Talk about a health code violation.) Plus, the customers here weren't exactly your old people in wheelchairs and/or forty-year-old moms who threatened to ask for your manager. Instead, I saw the alternatives: the half-woman, half-spiders shopping for detergent; the puppet on a tricycle searching for fine nuts and bolts; the zombie with a hockey mask testing out machetes (in a safe area, of course).

Agatha and I strolled across the polished tile floors, passing the endless aisles packed with your essentials: bread; juice; decorative intestines.

. . . Okay, that last one wasn't really an essential, but you get the idea.

Everyone gave me odd stares, as if I was the tiny salmon swimming through the school of sharks. But I ignored them. Last thing I needed was to snap someone's nerves and have my soul shattered, or whatever it is that they do.

I studied the plate of rock that Malak handed me, where foriegn symbols had been etched into the surface. They glowed gold, but according to the big man, they should dim when I have the item in the cart.

Shame on me. I should've brushed up on my Demonese before coming here.

I showed the list to my little sidekick. "Hey, Agatha, you can read this, right?"

"Well, doi," she replied. "We learned Favus back in year one. Have you been under a rock or something?"

I'm . . . I'm not sure how to respond to that . . .

"Sorry," I said, "silly me. And here I thought I needed to learn English. You know, the very language you're speaking right now."

Agatha giggled. "You're a riot, MC. A real riot."

"Just let me know what we need to get."

"Here. Let me see that." Agatha took the list from my hands, then swiped her claws against the text. Instantly, the letters morphed into that sweet, sweet English. "Shouldn't be too hard now, huh?"

"Whoa." The list back in my hands, my eyes dazzled with awe. "You're one impressive little demon girl."

"I know, right? Aren't I just the best?"

Still, though, I don't know what these ingredients even are.

The first item of the list read Heart of the Foreign God.

I . . . I don't . . . What?

I was just about to ask Agatha for some more help when she started skipping down the aisle.

"Hey, Agatha," I said, "where are you going?"

"I'm going to get my favorite treat," she answered. "I'll meet you at the cashier."

"But I don't even . . ."

Aaaaaand she's gone.

I sighed. "We're gonna be here for a while."

I ambled down the aisles, searching and searching for the first item. But all I could come across were things like caramelized apples (I hope it was caramel) and curled up spiders in mason jars. Oh, and packs of tissues. Kleenex. Add the fact that every label was made up of those weird Demonese letters and, yeah, I wasn't gonna get anywhere.

That was when it appeared, breaking the rhythm of my failed attempts to find my item. A man in a suit, it was, complete with pale skin and a face devoid of all features. Lanky, slender limbs attached to the body, along with ink-black tentacles that sprouted from its spine.

It emerged at the opposite end of the aisle, and without a doubt, it set its gaze right on me.

My skin crawled, and a chill burrowed through my spine.

Nope.

I walked quickly to the next row of merchandise, but there it was again, this time a little closer.

Not doing it.

Next aisle.

There again.

Much closer.

I tried one last time to get away, but before I knew it, the creature stood only a foot or so away. I stared at my grocery list, struggling to hide the shakes that coursed through my bones.

I'm so boned.

I'm so boned.

I'm so boned.

The creature stretched out its arm.

I'M SO BONED.

It didn't grab me.

Instead, it's pale fingers pointed at my list. It then aimed its tentacles towards the next aisle over.

I gave it a curious look.

"Is . . . Is that where I can find this heart or whatever?" I asked.

It nodded.

"Ah, okay," I said. "Th-Thanks."

I might need a new pair of underwear . . .

Just then, Agatha returned, now with bags of (possible) candies in her hands.

"Oh, hi, Uncle Slenderman!" she said as she tossed her goodies into the shopping cart. "Mighty pleasure seeing you here."

The creature gave another nod.

"I see you've met my friend MC," Agatha pointed out. "I take it you were helping them?"

Could you guess what Uncle Slendy did to answer? (I'll give you a hint: it rhymes with mod.)

"I appreciate that a lot, Uncle," Agatha said. "I'll take it from here."

She politely led me away from the long-limbed humanoid, and after what felt like ages, I was finally able to breathe a little easy.

"You know it—er, him?" I asked.

"But of course!" Agatha answered. "Uncle Slenderman always comes over for Fortnite Fridays!"

"Did . . . Did you just say 'Fortnite Fridays?'"

"Mm-hm! Daddy and Uncle are the best duo in the world!"

. . .

At this point, I'm starting to become more intrigued than terrified.

With Agatha's help, I managed to find all the ingredients we were looking for, and by the grace of the Almighty One, we finally found ourselves standing in line to check out.

I studied the items in the cart: a black heart with ancient text etched into the surface; a beaker filled with what looked like a cloud; some cinnamon.

"Nothing like the Wal-Mart I know," I said.

"I'd say it's even better," Agatha assured me.

"Well, if you take buying literal hearts as your cup of tea, then I suppose so."

When our turn came around, the two of us began to unload the cart onto the conveyor belt. (That's what they're called, right?) But halfway through, Agatha stopped, and upon staring behind me, her grin widened like no other.

"Hi, Mr. Fazbear!" she cheered.

Say what?

I turned around, and sure enough, animatronics as tall as mountains, as massive as boulders, faced me. Their characters ranged from a violet bunny with a red bowtie to a blonde chick with a cupcake. The one in the middle, a bear with a black tophat, had the deadest gaze in his diamond-blue eyes. In fact, they all did.

"Goody goody gumdrops, I am just running into everyone today!" Agatha said.

I, on the other hand, had no words.

First a pale guy with tentacles . . .

Now, a trio of too-alive animatronics.

"H-Hi . . ." I finally managed.

The bear shot his stare at me, and without hesitation, he planted his hand on my shoulder. It was abnormally, eerily, warm.

Th-This is it! I decided. I'm gonna get my face chomped off!

Again,

expectations diverted.

The bear used his other hand to point towards Agatha's treats. He then wagged his finger.

"What?" I asked, confused. "Am I not supposed to get this?"

The bunny and and the chick shook their heads.

I raised an eyebrow at Agatha. "Are you buying things you're not supposed to be buying?"

The little demon girl held one of her arms as she stared uneasily at the ground.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Daddy says I can't have sweets. Says they'll ruin my smile."

Considering all your teeth are already rotting, I don't think there's much more damage you could do.

Agatha grabbed the sweets and began to march back to the aisles. "I'll put it back."

Still, though, you're just a kid after all, even if your claws can tear me a new one.

I smiled a small smile.

"Just this once," I said, taking the treats from her hands. I put them back with the rest of our groceries. "I'll let you slide away with that."

The little girl grinned her mighty grin. "Thank you so much, MC! You're the greatest!"

I turned to the trio of fur monsters and asked, "Do you guys mind keeping this from Malak? I'd rather not have my soul be turned to dust."

The bear gave an empty smile, while the bunny shot a (surprisingly smooth) thumbs-up.

We stood before the kitchen counter, the treasures of our trip laid out before us. So many ingredients, most of which I didn't even know had a definite existence.

Agatha started to open her candy, but I stopped her.

"I don't think so," I said. "Not until you've had a real dinner."

Agatha sighed, but thankfully set the sweets aside.

"That's fair," she agreed.

"Still, though, how do you even make marrow stew?"

"You don't know? It's, like, the easiest thing to make. Even I can do it!"

My eye twitched.

Why do I feel like the dumb one?

"In that case, can you guide me through the steps?" I asked. "Since you are a Gordon Ramsay, after all."

Agatha looked at me like I was a crackhead.

"But I'm Agatha, dummy."

Again, why do I feel like the dumb one?

"In any case," I said, "let's just get this meal cooking."

Agatha gave a salute. "Roger that!"

Then, before my eyes, her arms transformed, shifting from the blackened claws to tiny limbs with tiny human hands, like a little girl was supposed to own.

I gaped.

"What just happened?" I asked stupidly.

Agatha grabbed a kitchen knife.

"I can't help you with my normal hands," she explained. "Can't hold the knife as is." But then she frowned. "I don't really like this look, though. Makes me feel like a weirdo."

"That so?" I unpacked the package of cinnamon. (Gotta start somewhere.) "You look fine to me."

"Really?"

"Compared to Uncle Slenderman, I'd say you're pretty standard."

Out the corner of my eye, I spotted a hint of joy blossom from Agatha's cheeks.

"All right!" she said, getting gung-ho with the knife. "Let's cook us some stew!"

"Watch where you swing that thing," I warned her. "I don't have any 'Bandages of the Forbidden One' on deck."

"You should've gotten some back at the store."

Yeah, yeah.

My little helper and I started cracking on the stew (which was easier than I could've ever imagined. Would you believe that to make the most perfect marrow stew, you just have to cut everything up into tiny pieces, aside from the Foreign God's Heart, of course, and slap it all into the pot. Add some Angel Tears for the broth. Sprinkle some cinnamon for the spectrum of flavors. And bam! You'll have a stew that no demon will resist).

In the end, Agatha and I sat next to each other at the kitchen table, a bowl of steaming stew at her beck and call. As for me, I stuck with the healthiest meal a mortal could have in this realm: air.

"Smells amazing," Agatha said. "Can't wait to dig in."

"It's all yours," I told her.

She then opened her mouth

and waited.

"You okay there?" I asked.

"I'm ready," she said.

"For . . . ?"

"For you to feed me."

Come again.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, I can't, exactly, pick up the spoon now, can I?" Agatha gestured to her hands, which had returned to the sharpened claws.

"You really don't like those other hands, huh?"

She frowned a little. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I assured her. "I'm not one to judge."

I picked up her spoon, scooped up some stew, then fed her.

She beamed. "Delicious! A true chef's work!"

"I'm glad you like it."

I continued to guide Agatha through her meal, but at one point, she became less energetic. Her smile deflated, and she stared down at her lap.

"What's up?" I asked. "Full already?"

She shook her head.

For a while, the silence greeted us both, until Agatha finally let her mind speak.

"MC," she said, "why do you stay here?"

The question threw me off balance.

"Well, because if I don't, your dad will tear my limbs off," I answered.

"But even then, I'm sure you could get away. I don't think it would be hard to hide from Daddy. To hide from all of us, actually. Yet you keep coming back to watch over me. Aren't we scary monsters? Aren't we hard to look at?"

I considered the question, letting it roll around in my mind.

"Well, you aren't, exactly, normal in my eyes," I said. "Truth be told, I'd more than likely be better off babysitting a normal girl in a normal house. No Slenderman. No animatronics. I could probably be making ravioli instead of this here marrow stew."

Agatha face scrunched up, as if her hollow eyes would shed beads of undeniable life.

I stroked her hair.

"But I think I'm starting to warm up to you," I said. "You may be a little demon girl, but you're still a little girl. Very adorable, when you're not begging me to play hide-and-seek, that is. And all these other creatures, sure, are terrifying, but that's only how my world sees them. Looking closer, I can see, oddly enough, just how normal they seem."

I smiled.

"So don't worry, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon. I actually like this job quite a lot, believe it or not, so I'll be coming back whenever I'm needed."

To that, Agatha's lips curved sweetly, and for a second, just a split second, I saw the traces of an innocent human girl.

"Thank you, MC," she said. "You're the best mortal babysitter ever!"