When someone's life changes, usually it changes while they're doing something extraordinary, from climbing Mount Everest, to sky diving, to swimming in the deep dark seas. Beverly's life changing event did not. Hers happened while watching Die Hard on a thursday morning. More specifically, it happened at the part where Bruce Willis walks barefooted across the broken glass. You see, Beverly tended to get grossed out when it came to broken glass piercing through skin, so she decided she'd use that scene as an excuse to go get some left over salad from the fridge. So she walked to her small kitchen and cracked open her fridge, reaching in to grab her bowl of salad. But as soon as her hand touched the bowl, a voice began shouting in her head.
Not the fuckin' salad! it's words made Beverly topple backwards onto her butt. The voice was male, and seemed to have some sort of cheesy, overdone New York accent, one that one would expect to hear in an old 1950's mob movie. But Beverly was too stunned to care about the voice. Her eyes were wide and she was shaking.
"What the fucking shit fuck?! Who are - What are - What the fuck?!" she screamed, staring at the fridge.
Relax sweetheart. I ain't here to hurt you. Now, it seems that the only thing you got is this vegan shit, so we'll just have to talk over non-dairy butter and soy ice cream. And then we're going grocery shopping. Poor Beverly was still shaking when she felt something odd in her stomach. It was odd, everything about having butter with ice cream sounded disgusting, and yet she still wanted to eat it. It was an unwanted hunger. It felt like if she didn't eat the butter and ice cream, she'd die. So she got up and reached into the fridge pulling out the butter, the ice cream, then a spoon from the cupboard.
That's right, sugar. Now let's sit back down and pause the movie. Beverly slowly and shakily made her way back to her sofa, pressing the pause button on the remote. She then popped off the lid to the butter and the ice cream and began scooping the butter into the ice cream container. She mixed it up a little, before taking a giant spoonful and cramming it into her mouth. It tasted disgusting, yet it was surprisingly satisfying.
Mmmmmmmmmmm...this organic shit ain't too bad...but it ain't nearly as good as actual food either. Okay, so basically, I'm from Hell and I came to do stuff and shit. I'm the Demon of Gluttony by the way. But you can call me Grub. Now let's finish watching Bruce Willis kick some foreign ass. And with that, the terrified, confused Beverly pressed play on the VCR remote and continued watching.
Everything began to change after that, and only in the span of a couple months. No psychiatrist had the answer to what the hell was happening, not to mention the fact that the voice made her give up her eating habits entirely. She did have to admit, though, that some of the food that the voice had introduced to her to was pretty damn good. Grub also gave her a clearer understanding about who he was and why he was there, at the price of Beverly quitting her smoothie job and taking a position at a local McDonald's. Beverly had also become quite the cook. By the time she received the the email, she had learned how to get along with her inner demon fairly well. It mostly consisted of having some sort of food item within reach at all times. She skimmed through the email, before running out to her old pickup truck and speeding towards the only castle she knew of, but not before driving through the drive through of her workplace, getting a large chocolate milkshake and an entire bag of fries. When she arrived, she stepped out of her vehicle and approached the entrance, fries and milkshake in hand. She raised the hand with the milkshake to knock, but was surprised as an earthquake rumbled the ground. She stood there for a moment, before knocking.
@KatherinWinter
