DAVE
If you had asked me this morning, if I would be downloading yet another dating app.
I would have punched you in the shoulder.
It was a Tuesday. I didn't download apps on Tuesdays. I worked. I debugged. I did nerdy tech guy things that didn't get me matches on apps.
But as the day progressed, that would change. I should have known. Today didn't feel like an ordinary day.
My name is Dave. Just plain normal, Dave. And here I was photoshopping horns and glowing abs on my profile pic.
How did plain, normal Dave get to a point of photoshopping myself as a nightmare incubus?
Well, it's a funny story. Let me back up.
I pulled up to a newer start-up corporation down on Charlize St. It's settled between a cursed antiques store and a run-down coffee shop that's seen better days but serves the best damn coffee this side of Chicago.
Entering the double doors of the business, I have to do a double take because the woman at the front is ethereally beautiful. Her long, blonde hair is glowing as it cascades over her shoulders. Her perfect emerald eyes watched me as I approached the desk.
Her name tag, 'Viola,' seemed ill-fitting, but I needed her guidance to Mr. Faneg's office.
"Can I help you?" Her too-perky voice questioned. Something about her sends a chill down my spine, but I can't put a finger on why.
Clearing my throat, I stutter out a greeting, "Hi—I'm—um—Dave, here to see Mr. Faneg?" Her emerald eyes swirled, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something else. Yellow? Orange?
"Sure, sweetheart," she says, celestial lashes kissing her cheeks. She smiles widely, and I think I see the tip of her fangs glinting brightly from the fluorescent lights. I blink a few times, knowing I have to be imagining things as she chomps her gum, tapping away into her computer, and motions towards the elevator. "You're cleared, babes, go on up."
Fangs? What the fuck? I look again, and her lips have closed as she goes back to answer the phones. Am I high? I shake away the imagery, knowing I must have imagined the whole thing, and hurry towards the elevator.
The word InfernoNET is in large, elegant letters above the elevator. It dings as I approach.
I reach the upstairs, stepping out onto old, rugged brown carpeting, and take a quick sweep of the room. Little cubicles are scattered about.
"Awww, Dave, you've arrived just in the nick of time. I'm Mr. Faneg." He winks at me, his eyes too dark to be brown, and something very unsettling about his demeanor makes me take a step back. "Follow me this way. These old computer systems just aren't vibing with our new modification. Was wondering if you could optimize our backend systems to run a little smoother."
"Yeah, it's my pleasure." I try not to make eye contact with any of the workers and notice that the air smells vaguely of brimstone and printer ink. So odd.
"So why not just upgrade the whole system?" I push, noting some of the computers still had the oversized monitors and aged yellow plastic.
"Oh, I will. Just waiting for them to arrive. But until they do, I need my main office up and running. Think you can have it ready to go by the end of the day?"
"Yeah, yeah, no problem I say." He points to an office, completely enclosed in glass windows and doors with heavy curtains dangling.
"There you go, call me if you need anything." He winks, and I see a flicker of red in one pupil and start to wonder if someone had poisoned my coffee. I must have been hallucinating.
I sit down, entering some code to pull up the operating system, cleaning out old files, and updating the hard drive. It doesn't take long for me to notice that the server is pinging off
dark net domains. One's I can't access. I find hidden files encrypted with transfer logs and customer names that make me laugh out loud.
"Lucif3rBaby69," and "NoAngelsWelcome77." Fucking weird.
Then I hit a server with no access, and I know I need to break it to update the storage, but all I get are errors.
666 NO ACCESS. One field labeled simply:
MATCHED666MONSTERCODE
"That's a wild name for a server." I can't help but think.
It doesn't take me long to crack the codes, and I'm updating quicker than I would guzzle down a root beer and a bag of Cheetos while watching Anime. "What the hell is this?" I find myself scrolling through lines of unfamiliar code before I'm able to bypass a particularly odd, encrypted site.
It seems to be locked in this server alone.
"This coding is weird as shit."
My words catch, as I stumble onto something odd.
MonsterMatch.io
A hidden portal embedded deep in the POS system. "What the hell is this?" I assume it has something to do with porn. Don't click. Don't click. I do it anyway.
The site loads. I want to shield my eyes, but my curiosity is piqued. What kind of weird ass shit would be on a site called MonsterMatch?
The following screen greets me, full of neon and flame graphics, and the following words:
Welcome to MonsterMatch, where you can find Supernatural love.
Pictures pop up, various profile pics of men and women dressed in furry ears, vampire teeth, and zombie costumes.
I'm so confused. What is this? Some next-level LARP'ing?
I can't help it, I'm intrigued. I try to bypass the security wall, but something is blocking me.
Create an account to access the security code.
I enter codes to try again, but it beeps loudly, sounding like an alarm.
Create an account. Error. Create an account. Error. Create an account.
"Fine. I have a bag of Cheetos at home with no one to share it with. May as well."
I click "Create Account."
USERNAME
Hmmmm…. "Incubo69," I laugh so hard, I almost knock over the monitor. I'm still just a 12-year-old boy at heart. Okay, something a little less immature. Ummm…
USERNAME: NightmareVoid6
MONSTER SPECIES:
What? I need to make up something.
Okay, MONSTER SPECIES: Incubus.
BIO: I….hmmm… I have to think about what I'm going to say.
Okay..
BIO: I weaponize pleasure to ghost you in style.
INTERESTS: Dreamwalking, bad puns, and emotional damage.
TURN-OFFS: Let's see…
Holy water…ummmm, exorcists, commitment.
Maybe I should leave off the commitment part.
PROFILE PHOTO:
I pick the best photo I have. Black hoodie, logo of my tech company, messy, greasy hair.
Hello photoshop.
I peek out of the glass windows and notice no one within eyesight, and quickly hurry to make myself look hot. I slap on glowing red eyes, some digital horns, and a very suspicious six-pack
Oh well. Just for fun anyway.
I wait for it to upload, hit confirm, and then it asks for my phone number. Mr. Faneg is approaching. I quickly enter my number and press confirm. Immediately, I get sent a code and enter that into the next screen. It sends a link to my phone and minimize the computer screen.
Mr. Faneg wasn't going to appreciate me playing on dating apps on his dollar
I quickly back out of the hidden website and continue coding. Mr. Faneg taps his knuckles on the glass, smiling and waving. I give him a thumbs-up sign that everything is all good. Thankfully, he goes on his way.
I finish updating his hard drive and POS system, and hurry home. The code and link are luring me the entire time I'm there.
Once I'm in my apartment, I click the app to download, and at the moment, it's like everything glitches.
My apartment lights flicker, my phone screen flashes once and then twice, and then the app starts downloading itself.
The entire app is sleek, sexy. It gives me Grimoire meets Tinder vibes.
The login field shimmers, and I enter my information.
The moment I'm in, the swipes flood in.
Demons, werewolves, vampires. Every single costume is so detailed. I would almost believe it's real.
I was going to have to up my game, hard.
My account pings.
Lilith666 has matched with you.
My account pings again.
Lilith666 has messaged you.
I'd never gotten a match so quickly, much less a message. I check out her profile pic
Holy shit. She's hot AF! Long, sleek black hair. Piercing red eyes. Tall, curving horns, and a tight leather top that hugs her so tightly. It's like a second skin. Her breasts peek out from the top, and I know right away.
This dating app has to be a joke. Made to prey on people who could never get dates, so they make up fake characters and talk to each other behind a screen.
Oh well, may as well message back.
Lilith666: Hey hottie… nice abs. I could lick blood off of them.
Me (NightmareVoid6): Thanks, they're fake. What about you? Horny or just happy to see me?
Lilith666: Actually horny, aren't they beautiful?
I assume she crafted the devil horns herself, and I wasn't going to insult her.
Me: They're the best horns I've ever seen.
Lilith: Wait until you see them in person. Want to meet?
Holy shit, was she for real?
Before I could type a flirty reply, the app flickers. Just for a second.
Lilith's profile picture, her glowing red eyes, blinked.
Not the app. Not the page.
Her.