Sometimes when we have no one else to turn to, we look for advice from unconventional places.

  “I… I don’t know what to say to her,” the voice said, low and uncertain.

  Because when it comes to certain matters, just any old advice won't do.

  “She seems to like it when we talk, but I cant tell if she's just being ... nice.”

  Even if that source has questionable qualifications.

  "I mean, she's a third level succubus. Her job is to be nice. But I want to know if deep down, she hates me for me."

  A squeaky voice quickly replied.

  "Tell her you like her laugh. Don't overthink it. Just be real."

  Such as, if you couldn't remember that exact spell from summoning class. So instead of a warlock from the 12th Circle of the New World Order ... you got a 12 year old named Kevin who plays a max level warlock in World of Warcraft. How these two found each other, well, that's another story entirely.

  The original voice stuttered, confused and taken aback. It belonged to a demon, tall but awkward, lanky and far from confident. A teenage demon whose heart was infatuated with another. His hair just barely covered his eyes, his clothing was the edgiest of mall goth fashion.

  “I… like her laugh?” he repeated, uncertain. "But isn't that just..."

  The voice replied, chipper and sincere.

  "Yeah! Tell her it reminds you of something... good? Or nice. I mean, whatever you think she might enjoy."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A long silence as the demon mulled over this advice.

  Then the demon scoffed, a rare, embarrassed, hopeful gesture from his age group.

  “I will try that. Thanks, Kevin.”

  He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped away from the summoning circle.

  The next night, the summoning circle glowed again.

  The demon paced with even more intensity, muttering.

  “She laughed! But when I told her she looked nice, I.. I panicked. I offered to take her to the Roast of Jeffery Epstein. She said ‘Oh, that’s ... sweet.’ and walked away, but her voice was fake again. What did I do wrong?!”

  He rubbed his temples with clawed hands. “Kevin, how do I fix this?”

  From the summoning circle:

  "Tell her you'd like to see her again. Maybe invite her to a picnic for some hand-holding. Something casual and low-stakes."

  The demon stopped.

  “…That sounds too easy.”

  "That’s what makes it work!"

  Awkward silence for a moment. The demon tilted his head, considering the advice.

  “You are very wise, Kevin.”

  Third night. The circle roared to life again.

  The demon, visibly disheveled and giddy, spoke without preamble.

  “She didn’t show up. I waited for hours!”

  Moments of awkward silence from the summoning circle, before Kevin replied.

  "I'm sorry, man. That sucks."

  The demon looked up, eyes confused. “No! I think that's a good thing, down here at least. She's starting to really dislike me. You.. You’ve helped a lot.”

  Silence, except for the sounds of some great battle emerging from beyond the veil.

  "Oh, huh. That's weird, but I'm glad its working out for you. Hey, quick question..."

  The demon blinked and nodded.

  "Sure, Kevin. What's up?”

  The sounds of battle continue. A soft, faint voice echoed from beyond, cartoonish and definitely not Kevin's. "I'm out of range. I can't do that yet."

  The demon listened intently, ready to aid in whatever manner he could.

  “That thing you did last weekend, well, we need you again,” Kevin said, grinning. “Billy’s grounded, and we need a tank for raid night. But, his older brother Bobby should be home... so....”

  Friday night, 8 PM. There is Bobby, age 17, standing in front of his fridge looking for a snack. The lights start to flicker, a buzzing sound emits from beneath the floorboard and he mutters quietly, "Oh no. Not again."

  Suddenly his pupils vanish. His hands go rigid. A crackle of infernal energy swirls up from the ground, around his ankles and up along his spine before disappearing into Bobby's screaming mouth.

  He turns with rigid posture and walks over to the family computer.

  Mouse. Keyboard. Headset. Billy's login.

  The familiar World of Warcraft startup music plays.

  From inside, Bobby silently screams.

  *Why does this keep happening?!*

  Kevin’s voice buzzes through the headset.

  “Alright, Damon's online. Its raid night, baby!”