1201

Creepypasta #1201: Social Life

Length: Super long

I live in the last small apartment remaining on a row of freshly-built fraternity and sorority houses that basically form a parade of epic parties every night. The social envy I feel here is still overwhelming, but it was actually the loneliness that drove me to make a deal with a devil for popularity—literally. Thanks to his power, during our deal everything I wrote online became real. It sounds like a wonderful thing, right? Heed my warning.

When I first saw him, he looked like a businessman, complete with slicked-back hair, a sharp suit, and a faux grin, but somehow I got the sense that his appearance was a show put on for foolish marks. In a thick but vague foreign accent, Malcolm said, “Welcome. Please, sit down.”

I possessed a foggy idea of having picked up his business card and contacted him, but I couldn’t remember exactly when. I also couldn’t really remember the trip to that random diner. Confused, but trying to be confident, I asked, “So you’re a social media consultant?”

He gave a slow nod, and his eyes never left my face. “You wish to expand your circle of friends online and therefore your popular appeal?”

“Yeah!” I leaned forward on one elbow. “It’s maddening, you know? I see these parties outside my apartment, and because I transferred here I don’t even have a single friend!”

“You never tried attending one of these gatherings?” Malcolm asked, evaluating me.

“I did.” I grimaced. “But I didn’t really know anyone, so I was just wandering alone in a crowd. Afterwards I always see posts online about the incredible night everyone had—everyone but me. It’s driving me crazy. What’s the point of college if I don’t actually do anything new or fun?”

His default grin widened subtly. “Spencer, I think I can be honest with you. You enjoy science fiction and fantasy works, yes?”

Warily, I nodded.

His face sharpened with an approximation of human pleasantry. “Well, Spencer, I am not a social media consultant. I am a demon.”

I nearly spat out my coffee. When had I ordered coffee? Putting the mug down, I clarified: “Like a classical religious demon?”

“I existed before religion,” he said with a small laugh. “But it was good business. As the world changes, I am now attempting to expand into newer human vices.”

“I have read books,” I told him, standing up and pushing my chair back to leave. “It’s always a trick. I am not going to give you my soul. Not for anything.”

He raised an apologetic hand. “No, no, nothing so dramatic as that. This is just a pilot program for a new market. Please, hear me out. We can work something out that gets both of us what we want.”

I almost left—but thoughts of parties, girls, and adventures pushed me back down into my seat. “So what is that you want?”

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How the heck did Chase stay poker-faced through all of that. The More would’ve been cute if not for the gross bits. Guess this is Rhett’s payback for spitting in Link’s mouth.

Also Rhett’s so predictable…he HAS to mention how bad Link is with animals every time they have one on the show. Just like he has to mention Link’s huge mouth at every opportunity amirite