“This might be a bad idea.”

The words were spoken by Fred Turner, attending the 27th birthday party of his friend, Kate. Sitting on the couch in her apartment, surrounded by their friends, he was answering the offer of someone suggesting they use her newly opened gift: a Ouija board.

“No, no, no, no! Do not mess around with that thing!” Kate’s older brother, Dave, warned.

“Will you relax?” Tim, Kate’s boyfriend, asked. “It’s harmless, mostly a conversation piece.” As he pulled the board from its packaging, he turned to Fred. “You aren’t scared of this thing too, are you?”

“No, I just want to avoid the annoying cliché that will inevitably follow. We’ll all sit around it, someone will ask a question, and for a few moments, nothing will happen. Then it will start to move. We’ll all start accusing each other while you fail to keep from smiling, telling us that you did it. You’ll give a half-assed promise to not do it again and we give it another try. Then...” he looked around the room and pointed to Kate’s younger sister, Becky, “you’ll move it because Tim got you going, after which we make everyone promise not to mess around again, then try it for the third and final time, in which Tim will of course break his promise and push the disk thing because he just can’t help himself. Someone will snap and we’ll give up, too pissed off at each other to keep going.”

“I have a better idea. How about we don’t do it just for the sake of not doing it,” said Dave. “Don’t fuck with the dead, just don’t do it.”

“I thought you were atheist, though?” asked Becky, looking up from her chair at her brother.

“I don’t believe in God, but I’m not stupid enough to think the world isn’t painted with a few shades of gray.”

“Relax, I promise I won’t screw around with it. I just want to see if it works,” said Tim, finally pulling out the board and laying it across the coffee table in front of Fred, but not without knocking some dirty dishes, pieces of wrapping paper, and a couple gifts onto the floor.

“All right then, I’m game,” said Fred.

“Me too,” added Kate.

“Sounds like fun,” Becky said.

All hands were on the planchette and all eyes were on Dave. He gave a long sigh and finally kneeled down beside the table. “Fine, but I’m just doing this to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. But we really shouldn’t be doing this in your apartment, Kate, that’s like shitting where you eat.”

He added his hands to the planchette and Kate took Fred’s place in the middle of the couch. She took a deep breath and waited before speaking.

“Is there anyone here who wishes to talk to us?”

Nothing happened. Everyone looked around, suddenly feeling embarrassed by what they were doing.

“Is there anyone here who wishes to talk to us?”

Eyes became wide as the planchette began to move, sputtering across the board towards the “yes” in the corner.

“Who’s doing that?” Dave asked. Both Kate and Tim repeated the question.

A guilty smirk, Fred raised his hand.

“You have got to be kidding! After that big speech you made?!” Kate nagged.

“I couldn’t help it, it was inevitable, just like I said!” Fred laughed.

“Fred was right, though, I was about to move it myself. He beat me to it,” said Tim.

“Well he was certainly right about people getting pissed off. Look, let’s either do this right or put it away,” said Dave, already with a short fuse.

“Next one to move it has to go on a beer run, got it?” Kate warned. Everyone nodded. “Ok then, let’s try this again.”

They all put their hands back on the planchette.

“We are calling out to any nearby spirits? Is there someone here who wants to speak to us?”

Once again, several silent moments passed by, the wooden disk refusing to move.

“Is there anyone there who can hear us?”

All eyes moved to Becky. If Fred was right, she would break the promise. Just like before, the planchette began to move and slid over to the “yes”, but again looking to Becky, everyone saw that she was the most surprised.

“Ok, everyone be honest right now. Who is moving it?” Dave asked, speaking like there was a cobra sitting on the coffee table instead of a game board. No one answered.

“What is your name?” Kate asked. The planchette moved.

O Z

“Oz?” Tim asked.

The wooden disk moved again.

YES

“Well we’re—”

Dave took one hand off the planchette and grabbed his sister’s wrist. “Do NOT tell it your name, understand?”

“Ok! Ok! What should we ask it?”

“I got one,” said Fred. He leaned over the board. “Trump or Biden?”

NO

Grammatically incorrect, but the right answer nonetheless.

“That’s good enough for me,” said Tim. “Does God exist?”

NO

“Score one for the atheists,” said Kate, but Dave looked anything but happy.

“Do Heaven and Hell exist?” asked Becky.

NO

“Are you a sexy succubus?” Fred asked.

NO

“Do you know any that you could send my way?”

Y O U R M O T H E R

Tim, Kate, and Rebecca all turned to Fred and laughed, while Fred grinned with his eye twitching. “You’re one funny spook, you know that?” He then leaned to the side and let slip a foul stench to the sound of a tuba’s wail. Everyone shrieked and covered their noses, swinging their free arms to try and dispel the evil cloud.

“There, I made a friend for you, the ghost of that fish taco I had for lunch. Try and get along, motherfucker.”

“You moron,” Dave growled. “NEVER instigate a spirit. You have to always be polite.”

Everyone became dead still, as if the planchette had stolen their motion in order to move on its own. It zipped back and forth across the board without anyone touching it, defying all laws of physics. Its movements became more erratic, spelling out swears and curses, with the pointed end aimed at Fred.

The only one brave enough to act, Dave slammed his hand on the disk. “Can you tell us again what your name was?”

With his hand back on it, it began to move.

Z O Z O

What little color Dave had left drained from his face. “Well Mr. Zozo, thank you very much for talking to us, but I’m afraid we have to go now. You take care.”

He moved the planchette to the “goodbye” in the corner. Everyone sat stunned, unable to believe what had just happened.

“Always sign off by saying goodbye, otherwise the doorway stays open,” Dave muttered. He then folded up the board and stowed it back in the box.

“Dave, what are you doing?” Kate asked as he got up with the box under his arm.

“I’m taking this thing and hiding it where no one will ever find it. After an experience like that, you should never use the same Ouija board. In fact, I don’t think any of us should touch a Ouija board ever again.”

“You know what that thing was, don’t you?” asked Becky with clear terror in her voice.

“When people use Ouija boards, it’s not uncommon to encounter a non-human spirit, and of all recorded contacts, Zozo is one of the most frequent demons to appear. It is typically very rude and aggressive, but I had no idea that it would show its true colors so early. Hopefully I managed to close the doorway before any permanent damage could be done. Kate, happy birthday. I’ll see all of you guys around.”

Three weeks later:

With the weather turning, the gang forsook the autumn cold for the interior of a café, having decided to all meet up for coffee. They sat in the corner of the room, away from the noise of the orders being spoken and repeated, breathing in the aroma of crushed coffee beans. Fred was the last to show up, but it was more surprising that he actually came. No one had seen him much since the party. He looked really tired, sporting bags under his eyes.

“Wow, Fred, what happened?” Kate asked as Fred sat down at the table, having just ordered the largest coffee available.

“Meh, my new roommate has been keeping me up.”

“Since when do you have a roommate?” Tim asked.

“Considering that the rat bastard doesn’t pay any rent, he’s not actually a roommate.”

“Well who is he?” asked Becky.

“You all remember Zozo, right? It turns out he followed me home.”

Everyone took a sharp breath, hoping that Fred was kidding.

“That’s just a joke, right? You aren’t really being haunted?” asked Dave.

“Well for the first few days, everything was fine. Some things would be moved around, I’d hear footsteps outside my apartment, nothing more than that. Then it changed...”

To the hissing of his bathroom sink, Fred worked to scrape away the remains of his breakfast from his teeth. Behind him, his shower tapped out its last few drops. It was the fourth day since Kate’s party, and the events that had transpired were in the farthest corner of his mind. He leaned down to spit, and raising his head back up, he looked into the mirror. It appeared behind him with lightning speed, a hulking demon coughed forth from the pits of hell. Its body was jet-black with long hair with two large horns hanging down over its face. Its nose was flat like a snout, drool trickled from its sharp fangs, and its eyes glowed red like two cigarettes.

“Huh,” said Fred, answering the beast’s growl.

Without moving his eyes, he wetted his toothbrush in the sink and continued brushing. Seeing the creature behind him had made him jerk in surprise, but he wasn’t actually afraid. The sight of the monster had pushed him past that sensation. His mind had turned white and he wasn’t quite sure how to process this. This stalemate continued on for another minute, the demon glaring at him with the intent to kill, Fred continuing to brush his teeth while his only functioning brain cell bumped around like a blind goldfish. If the look on his face could be summarized in one word, it would be “dafuq?”, with that exact spelling, and it would be written across his forehead.

Once he finished brushing, he opened up his medicine cabinet and retrieved a bottle of mouthwash, and closing the door, he was surprised to see the demon still behind him. Normally in the movies, you would look away from the mirror and come back to see something behind you, look over your shoulder, and then look to the mirror to see nothing.

“Huh,” he said again. He held up the bottle. “Want some?”

“You mean to tell me that you actually saw Zozo?” asked Dave.

“Yeah, ugly motherfucker,” said Fred, as if talking about a girl he had met at a bar.

“You’re just messing with us,” Becky scoffed.

Fred nonchalantly lifted up his shirt, showing several sets of scratch marks going across his chest, all in threes. His friends all gasped in shock, understanding why they hadn’t seen Fred these past weeks. This demon must have been ruining his life.

“Yep,” Dave sighed, “that’s a demon. They always do everything in threes. Christians seem to think that it’s to mock the holy trinity.”

“Fred,” said Kate, “you need to call someone. Find some ghost hunters like on the sci-fi channel. Do a house cleansing or something!”

“Oh no, I don’t want to get rid of him!” Everyone stared at him in disbelief. “I’m having way too much fun!”

“Fred, you’re being torn apart!”

“Meh, he doesn’t do this anymore. Besides, you can’t deny that these scars look really badass. Talk about a real panty-dropper. And check it out...” He turned around and showed his back, and the numerous scratch marks carved into his skin. “Guys, if your back doesn’t look like this at the end of the night, your woman is not satisfied.”

Impossible, he was actually making jokes about this?

“Fred, you have a demon living in your apartment! How can you be enjoying this?!” Becky asked.

“Have you ever gotten into a big argument with someone and you really want to punch them, but you can’t? So you hope they throw the first punch so you can turn to them and say “oh ho ho, you fucked up”, and then beat the living shit out of them since they started it? It’s kind of like that. Once that demon decided to throw down, it was on. I was like Bugs Bunny saying “you do realize, this means war?” I’ve been having a blast.”

“I don’t believe it, you’re actually trolling a demon,” Tim sighed.

“Oh, I’ve gone way beyond trolling. This is art.”

“Well what happened after you saw him?” asked Becky.

“Well for the rest of the day and that night, everything was quiet. The next night, he showed up again...”

The shaking of his bed woke Fred up, the clock at his bedside table showing 3:00. What the hell? Was this an earthquake? He sat up, and even in the pitch-black bedroom, he could see Zozo standing at the end of his bed, arms outstretched, claws pointing out, snarling like a lion.

“I will eat your soul!” the beast roared.

“NIGGA, I AM TRYING TO SLEEP!” Fred yelled in return.

He then lied back and pulled the blankets over his face, hoping to drown out of the noise.

Everyone stared at Fred, utterly dumbstruck.

“You honestly said that?” Dave asked.

“You wake me up at three in the goddamn morning and I’m not holding back. It was the first thing that came to me. Though I kind of feel bad about it. I’m white and I know I’m not supposed to use that word, but if you’re yelling it at a demon, that kind of takes away some of the bad juju, right?”

“Well when he was in your bathroom, you said his body was black, right?” asked Tim.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that makes it ridiculously bad. Being haunted by a demon is no excuse for hate speech. It also says a lot about you that that was your instinctive response.”

“Hey, it did make him leave.”

“Probably because he was so offended. I’m surprised he didn’t bitch-slap your cracker ass,” said Becky.

“So what happened after that?” Kate asked.

“Well he showed up at my bed a couple more times, often telling me to kill myself. It got pretty annoying, on and on about suicide, blah blah blah. I kept telling him to fuck off, that my death was already predetermined.”

Everyone around the table looked confused, except for Tim, who was chuckling. “For those who don’t understand, Fred has some weird belief that he’s going to die in Florida, killed by a clown firing squad.”