The monster emerged from the closet, its claws twitching with ancient malice. It gently bumped its way passed the closet door as it prowled toward a young man illuminated by the stark glow of a TV in a dim living room. In aggressive, rapid-fire succession, the young man jammed at the buttons on his game controller, sometimes jerking back and forth instinctually from his seat to mirror the movements in his videogame.

Boney arms and fingers slowly began sliding their way over the top of couch as the monster silently positioned itself behind him. It tensed its slender black claws over his head, and its arms and hands vibrated with potential.

"Hey, pass me the chips over there, would ya, bud?" The roommate abruptly spoke up without even peeling his gaze from the screen, and the creature jolted in surprise. Continuing to clamber between buttons and joysticks, the roommate gestured with a flick of his head in the general direction of the kitchen.

The lithe monster shifted to look at the opposite end of the room. A crinkled, clipped bag lay on the kitchen counter reflecting the constant shifting light of this guy's videogame. The creature turned back to grimace at the back of its roommate's head. Hovering there, it inhaled a deep, hopefully-disruptive breath before forcing its hands down to its sides.

Melding with the shadows like water dripping into water, the monster disappeared from behind the couch and reappeared rising from behind the kitchen counter. Still nonplused, its roommate focused on the vibrant noise and navigation of a digital landscape. Not a single ounce of spatial awareness. Not a care. It would be so easy to...

A loud smack of crunchy foil and plastic collided with the young man's cheek before landing at his side. He winced but immediately honed back into the screen. "I'd prefer it if they weren't crumbs, but thanks," he voiced dryly.

Bastard. The monster grumbled loudly, letting it deviate into a growl while sinking back beneath the counter.

The apartment smelled faintly of dust, stale pizza, and Lynx Africa.

The monster hated Lynx Africa.

It lingered in the hallway ceiling upside down like an irritated gargoyle, six black claws hooked into the plaster while its glowing eyes tracked the human below. The young man shuffled through the kitchen in wrinkled sweatpants, scratching absentmindedly at his stomach while waiting for the microwave to finish screaming at a burrito.

Three minutes.

Three entire minutes without stimulation.

The human nearly died.

He drummed his fingers against the counter. Checked his phone. Opened the fridge. Closed the fridge. Opened it again as though the contents might have changed in the last seven seconds. The monster's tail twitched violently. At long last, the microwave dinged.

"Finally," the human muttered.

The monster dropped from the ceiling directly behind him, twelve feet of ancient nightmare unfolding from darkness with all the silent grace of a collapsing spider.

The human squinted down at the burrito packaging. "Hey, do we have sour cream left?"

The monster froze and slowly turned its head toward the refrigerator.

"Oh. There you are." The human finally glanced over his shoulder. His eyes drifted casually upward over rows of teeth, curling horns, and two burning yellow eyes.

The monster stared.

"...Could you check?"

A low hiss rattled from somewhere deep inside the creature's ribcage.

"Cool, thanks."

With a sharp movement, it yanked open the refrigerator door. Light spilled across glossy black skin stretched taut over a frame that looked incorrectly assembled. Its limbs bent in too many places. Shadows leaked from beneath it like smoke.

The human leaned around the fridge door. "Top shelf maybe?"

The monster whipped its head toward him so fast its neck cracked.

The human blinked. "Or not."

The creature scanned the shelves, eyes glazing over the mountains of expired takeout containers, until it found the sour cream. With two claws, it delicately plucked the container free. The human held out his hand without looking and he monster considered placing the entire tub directly through his skull. Instead, it slapped the container into his palm hard enough to sting.

"Ow," the human said. "Rude."

The monster recoiled, offended.

Rude?

It had once drowned kingdoms in plague, brought civilisations to shaking terror and brought the very concept of protection magic to fruition.

Now it was apparently rude.

The human wandered toward the couch again, burrito balanced dangerously in one hand, game controller in the other. "Oh, by the way," he said around a mouthful of rubbery tortilla, "my friend Marcus is coming over tomorrow."

The monster slowly straightened to its full height. "...What?"

The human paused mid-chew. "What?"

"You are bringing another one here?"

The human blinked twice. "Oh. Right. You don't like people."

The monster's claws dug into the tile floor with a shriek. "I like people perfectly well," it snarled.

"Okay."

Marcus. The name was like holy water in its mind, a searing blade through layers of cerebral tissue. One human overlooked claws and glowing eyes because he possessed the survival instincts of an unplugged toaster. But two humans? They compared notes.

The monster narrowed its eyes. "When is he arriving?"

"Tomorrow afternoon probably."

The creature began pacing immediately, long limbs carrying it in twitchy circles around the kitchen.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"No visitors."

"Dude, you can't veto my friends."

"I absolutely can."

"You literally don't pay rent."

The creature pointed one terrible claw toward the human. "I contribute."

The human snorted. "You ate the landlord."

"He raised the rent."

"You ate the last landlord too."

"He also raised the rent."

The human rubbed a hand down his face. "Look, Marcus is just coming over to watch the tournament qualifiers, alright? It'll be like three hours."

"What if he sees me?" The monster's eyes narrowed further.

The human shrugged. "I'll tell him you're my cousin. Wear a hoodie or something."

The creature stared in absolute disbelief. "...A large hoodie?"

"Probably, yeah."

For the first time in centuries, the ancient horror experienced something dangerously close to humiliation.

The human pointed lazily toward the hallway. "Oh, and if you're gonna skitter around on the ceiling tonight, can you stop scratching above my room? It sounds like raccoons fucking."

The monster's eye twitched, and with all the dignity of a fallen god, it silently climbed back into the darkness above the hallway. A moment later, its voice drifted down from the ceiling.

"...What is a raccoon?"