Roommate From Hell
The best roommate I ever had was a Satanist.
In fact, if I had known Satanists made such good housemates, I would have required strict devotion to Beelzebub in all my roomies. Instead of the Daily Triplicate, I would have only placed ads in the Underworld Herald-Tribune.
One great thing about Jerry – or rather, Dark Prince Ahriman, Bastard Son of the Fallen Angel Belial – is that he was totally laid back, as were his friends, such as Count Koboldo, the Demon Architect of the Underworld, or Ahri’s girlfriend, Empress Vandela, Evil Seraph Protector of the Talon of Lucifer. Sure, they’d hang around a lot playing video games, but they never got up in my business or ate all my Nutter Butters like past roommates.
Ahri always cleaned up after himself, too. Sure, one time he left a pitchfork out. But that was when he was going through some tough times with Empress Vandela. And you have to give a guy a break.
He also soundproofed his room. Even when he went to the bathroom and his door was open, that black tapestry hanging in the doorway muffled his music a bit.
But the best thing about having Dark Prince Ahriman for a roommate was getting my own demon title.
“Hey, Bob, what up?”
“Not much, Ahri.”
“Say, we got to get you a cooler name. I mean, Bob is fine and all. But it just doesn’t, like, fit or something.”
Finally! I’d been waiting for the day forever. But it’s not the sort of thing you can just bring up. You don’t go, “So, uh… Dark Prince Ahriman. Do you think it’s time we get me a title?” No, you have to wait for the Satanist to make their move.
At first, I came up with Duke Asmodeus, Master of the Acheron Serpent and Loyal Servant to the Cloven Hoof. But Ahri said that name was already taken by Tony Shipman, a recent inductee to his coven.
“Sorry, Bob. That just wouldn’t be cool.”
“I understand,” I said. But secretly I cursed all progeny of this so-called Duke Asmodeus.
Eventually, we settled on an appropriate replacement: Lord Trimsar, Overseer of the Bottomless Realm of Apollyon.
At the time, Ahriman didn’t mention if there would be any sort of naming ritual or induction ceremony. And even though I was the Overseer of the Bottomless Realm of Apollyon, I still felt uncomfortable asking. So I had my girlfriend do it.
I figured if I left the room, Ahri would feel more at ease if it were a secret. We were watching the Simpsons when I gave Sarah the signal: “I gotta pee.”
She told me that once I left, she asked, “So, Dark Prince. Now that my boy is the freakin’ Lord Trimsar, is there going to be, like, some kind of coming-out party?”
Ahri smiled. “When the time is right, the initiate will be welcomed to the Wraith-Circle of Mephistopheles. Only when the time is right. That is all I can say.”
“Alrighty then,” said Sarah.
Later that week, most of Ahri’s friends showed up dressed in their black frocks and capes. I’m pretty sure it was a Thursday because we were watching the end of Scrubs. Ahri bowed to Queen Qatareela, Faithful Goddess of the Stygian Blood-cross. She stepped forward and said, “The initiate will now come with us.”
I looked at Sarah, but she just said, “I’m staying here, dude. E.R. is on next.”
Lady Succubala, Siren Tempter of the Infernal Archfiend, along with her boyfriend Lord Fouliar, Hell-born Archfiend of Tartarus, placed a cape over my head. I was lead outside, but I could see where we were going through the flimsy material. They paraded me down Front Street then past the Taco Bell.
Unfortunately, the cops were called out to Taco Bell to deal with a possible gang situation. I later heard it was one homeless man who ordered a Chilito, which they don’t make any more. But just as the officer finished patting down the man, he spotted a parade of cloaked people strolling in the direction of Rite-Aid.
He told us to disperse or he’d call for back-up. Ahri lifted the cape from my head. “I’m sorry, Lord Trimsar. But we’ll just have to complete the ritual at Cacodemon of Cocytus’s house.”
“That’s probably for the best, Dark Prince. I still got that chem. lab to finish. It’s due first thing.”
The Cacodemon of Cocytus lived on the next street, but when we got there, his mom started yelling. “Oh, no! You’re not bringing them in here. Dammit, Elmer! You know I haven’t had a chance to clean! I will not have company in a dirty house.”
We ended up back at our house, watching E.R. During a commercial break, I bowed and Ahri placed a medallion around my neck.
“As Dark Prince Ahriman, Bastard Son of the Fallen Angel Belial, I hereby name thee Lord Trimsar, Overseer of the Bottomless Realm of Apollyon. Go ye forth now in Lucifer’s immortal honor and drink of thine wraith-blood.”
Count Koboldo handed me a chalice, but whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, it’s not really blood – it’s Ocean-Spray.”
But then E.R. was back on, so Dark Prince Ahriman said quickly, “You are now loyal friend to the Wraith-Circle of Mephistopheles Dark Spirit Coven of Del Norte County. And good luck with your chem. lab.”
When I turned in my chem. lab the next day I wrote at the top: “Bob Miller A.K.A. Lord Trimsar, Overseer of the Bottomless Realm of Apollyon.” When I got it back, Professor Gross hadn’t even commented.
I asked Ahri to cast a spell on him, and so the next day Ahri, Vandela, and Lord Fouliar all covered Professor Gross’s car with bologna.
Now that’s what I call a great roommate. Even if he did think he was from hell.
– Ryan Forsythe is a writer and artist currently completing a Masters degree in Teaching Writing at Humboldt State. Through his travels, he has found himself saving sea turtles in Mexico, teaching at a school for street kids in Tanzania, and earning a certificate in Teaching English on a beach in Thailand. He suspects he is the only Pushcart nominee in the world to also have won NFG literary magazine's "Great 69-er Award" (for best original 69-word fiction). Ryan grew up in Ohio eating meat at every meal but now lives in northern California with vegetarians. http://www.ryanforsythe.com
