“From Midnight Snack to Demon Queen”

My name is Elarina. Don’t ask. I have no idea why my parents gave me a name that sounds like an unemployed elf princess. I’m a guy. Male. Full spec. Eighteen years old, currently working the graveyard shift at a convenience store — why? Because life has been trolling me for eighteen years straight. My body type? How do I put this… Slender? Delicate? A strong breeze might launch me into orbit? The kids in class used to call me “Melancholy Girl” even though I’ve never touched eyeliner in my life. I live alone. My days are as repetitive as filler arcs in a shounen anime: Go to work – get yelled at by customers – eat noodles – doze off – and dream of another world. And yes, I mean dream — not daydream. Ever since I was little, I’ve had strange dreams of a different world — cold, dark, and endless. A world where the sky is the color of ash, the ground cracked like stale biscuits, and something whispers my name with a voice like wind sweeping across ancient tombstones. At first I thought it was the result of expired cup noodles. But the dreams kept getting clearer. More vivid. More real. And tonight, just as I peeled back the lid of another sad cup of shrimp-flavored instant noodles… …that world came to me. --- The night was quiet. My room reeked of cheap spice packets, and the low hum of my laptop buzzed in the background. I sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing a crusty tank top and my lucky Dragon Ball boxers — don’t judge — slurping a steaming bowl of instant noodles like it was my last meal on Earth. Because, apparently, it was. I was halfway through my third bite when the air around me shimmered. Not the “whoa, it’s hot in here” kind of shimmer. I mean literal Matrix-glitching, reality-warping shimmer. The walls bent like rubber. My ceiling cracked like an eggshell. And the world made a sound — somewhere between a clogged toilet and a thousand rubber ducks screaming in unison. Then… darkness. And pain. In my chest. Wait — not chest. Boobs? I opened my eyes and screamed. High-pitched. Shrill. Feminine. Not my scream. I sat up and looked down. Two lumps. Two jiggly, unmistakably feminine lumps. “NOPE!” I yelled, grabbing at my—uh, her—chest. “No no no no no.” Then I felt it — hair. Long, silky hair spilling down my shoulders. “Is this a wig?! This has to be a wig. Where’s the glue line?!” I tried to stand up — only to realize I was wearing a flowing white wedding dress. Lace sleeves. Pearls. A corset so tight my ribs filed a complaint to HR. “WHERE AM I?!” I shouted. A booming voice echoed through the grand marble hall I now found myself in: > “YOU MAY NOW KISS THE BRIDE.” …What. I turned — slowly — like a horror movie heroine about to see the ghost. And saw him. Not a man. A giant. He had curved horns sprouting from his head like some Final Fantasy endgame boss, wore a crimson cape, obsidian-black armor, and had eyes glowing like demonic LED lights. He looked like Sephiroth and Satan had a baby and fed it protein powder. He stepped forward. “Do you accept your fate, my destined bride?” I blinked. “No?” Gasps echoed through the crowd. Yeah. There was a crowd. Demons. Goblins. Some goat-headed dude holding a wedding cake. They all stared at me like I’d just farted during a church wedding. “I was just eating noodles five minutes ago!” I shrieked. “This is a hallucination! I’m asleep! This is what happens when you eat expired shrimp flavor after midnight!” The Demon Lord — that’s what I was calling him now — narrowed his glowing eyes. “You dare reject the marriage foretold in the Prophecy of the Crimson Eclipse?” “The prophecy of the what now?!” He raised a clawed hand. The wedding cake exploded. I screamed again. “Okay! Okay okay okay! Let’s all calm down! I’m sure we can talk this out like civilized fantasy creatures—” He approached me, gently cupped my chin like some overly dramatic K-drama male lead, and said: > “You are mine now, my queen. Resistance is… entertaining.” Then he picked me up. Bridal style. My brain blue-screened. “PUT ME DOWN I SWEAR TO RAMEN JESUS I WILL BITE YOU.” – To be continued –