The walls started oozing blood again. Prepared this time, I scraped some into a sterilized vial and took it to my garage, and fed it into my home built sequencer. "DOOOOOM" echoed through the air in some chalkboard-screeching not-quite-real frequency. I grinned to myself. SOO many unusual phenomena here.
"I've pretty much established you aren't going to hurt me," said I. "Are you? If you are, give it your best shot now, eh?" I felt an unnatural chill. The thermometer registered it! Oh yeah baby! Feeling my forehead, it didn't seem to be affecting me directly though. "Who are you, anyhow?"
"I AM THROFFFFFT" screeched the air. "DESPAIR YOU ARE DOOOOOOOOMED!!!!"
"Throft? Very short! Catchy! What does it mean? I haven't heard it before."
"THE UNNNUUUUSED PORRRTIONNN, MORRRTALLLL!!!! THAT IS I!!!!"
The sequencer spat out an answer. O-. Long sequence of very familiar DNA matches. My own DNA. My own blood. Of course. "Not very creative, are you?" I asked. "The unused portion of what?"
'THE ONES YOU NEVER TALKED TO. THE CHANCES YOU NEVER TOOK."
"Wasted potential?" A chill went down my spine. I stared at the middle distance, overcome by empathy for having such a name. "You are actually named WASTED POTENTIAL?"
"YESSSS!!! DOOOOOM!"
"Who named you ... wait ... I know this one ..." I thought of grade school kids, calling names in the play yard. "Did you once have another name?"
"LOWWWIELLL, WHICH MEANS THROFFFFFT!!!"
"Lowiel, that is also 'the unused portion?'"
"YESSSS, DOOOMED MORRTALLL!!"
"So ... gas still in the tank of my car, is that Lowiel, or Throft?"
"LOWWWIELLL"
"And the bandwidth I didn't use last month on my cell phone's data plan ..."
"THROFFFFFFT!!!! DOOOOM!!! YOU ARE DOOOMED!!!!"
I was being haunted by a being who believed they were literally Wasted Potential, embodied. Who had originally been named Capability. And who had all these interesting powers. I started pacing back and forth excitedly.
"DESPAAAAIRRRR!!!!"
"Who named you Throft, Lowiel? Why are you doing this? Do you really think you are wasted potential?"
"I AM THROFFFFFT!!! YOUUU ARE DOOOMED!!! IT IS YOUUU WHO SHOULD DESPAIRRRR!!!!"
"It's OK, Lowiel. I think you're pretty awesome, to tell the truth. Has someone been being mean to you? You can tell me."
There was a distinct lack of screeching in the air. Uh-oh, I hope I haven't frightened them away. I went back in the house. Most everything seemed in order, but the coffeepot was bubbling without apparent cause.
"I don't mean to scare you off," I said. "Talk to me? Please? I think you are actual potential, not wasted potential."
".... goooo awwayyyy ...."
"It's time you stop wasting your time, Lowiel. I want to see what you can do."
".... pleeeeease goooo awwwaayyyyy ...."
"You somehow can't get away from me, can you? How's that work?" I poured myself a cup of coffee, but it stopped bubbling. Throft had apparently fled somewhere else. Well, I would find them. This was so big. Sooo many possibilities ....
I drank my cup of coffee, and waited, but Throft was making themselves scarce. I went out to get the newspaper, but ... I couldn't. The door opened inward fine, but trying to go out the door was like walking into a wall.
"Are you doing this, Lowiel?" I asked. No answer. Well now this was a pickle. Stuck in my house long enough, I'll starve to death. Right? Um, right? Possibilities.
Computer. Google costco. Home delivery, bing! Wait, I can use the internet? Apparently. Throft can make blood, can he make arbitrary things? Arbitrary programs? Or was he just copying my blood to somewhere else? So many questions. I need a notebook.
"Hey Lowiel, you're not actually locking me in my house, are you? Somehow doesn't seem your style."
"DOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!"
Oh good they're back! "Hey you can't hide all day! Life goes on!"
"THROFFFFT IS DEEEEADDDD!!! DEEEAADDD AND GRAAAAATEFULLLL!" screeched the air.
Unable to resist, I burst into song, ad-libbing to a Grateful Dead tune:
"On the first day, of the month of May,
Came a stranger to my door.
'Doom, Despair!' rent the frigid air,
I said, 'Don't worry any more'
A highpitched keening scraped the air: ".... oh pus he's a bard ...."
"You can count on me,
I am on your side.
I'll sit here and hear you out
On my chair of naugahyde ...
Throft seemed to be in a blind panic now. Windows rattled. Sections of the air quickly went purple then black then back to clear. Books fell from their shelves.
"You're stuck in Uncle John's cabin!
Don't think you can hide.
We've got some things to talk about,
We will face this side by side!"
An idea occurred to me. I grabbed a yardstick and went to the front door again. I stuck out the yardstick. No trouble. I used it to fish in the newspaper. Excellent! That should work for groceries too. I'll have to see what Snoopy is up to today. The room was filled with a breeze, not from outside or Throft moving the air, but from Throft's frenzied activity.
"Don't be afraid," I called out reassuringly. "I don't want to punnish you! I love you, Lowiel!"
The air was filled with cries of pain and mortal agony, trailing away into the distance, then there was silence.
Oh dear. Well, they'll be back, I thought. I'm pretty sure Throft is made of sterner stuff than that. I hope so, anyhow. I pulled out my notebook and started listing experiments I should run.
This was in response to a prompt on reddit.com r/WritingPrompts, "The demonic being that possessed your house realized something the day after it arrived: you're not trapped in there with it. It is trapped in there with you."