Home.

Terrified, you run home as fast as you can, slam the door behind you and lock it securely. Paranoid, you scour your house top to bottom, looking for this demon, before finally stopping in your kitchen. Climbing up from under your counter, you breathe a sigh of relief when you couldn't find him anywhere. "You don't have to look for me, you know? I'm right here." A familiar voice says from behind you.

Turning slowly, you see Djal standing by the kettle, stirring a steaming cup of coffee with his finger. He pulls his finger out and blows the steam off it. "You're real." You gasp, holding onto the counter to not fall down. "You're real. You're actually in my kitchen. Why are you in my kitchen? Why are you real? Why are you here?!"

Djal holds his cup up. "Coffee. I'm in your kitchen for coffee." He swirls the cup around and lets out an amused sigh. "Did you know that some monks thought that we made coffee and tried to burn it? Changed their minds after the smell got to them."

"Fascinating, but why can I see you? And what do you want with me?" You say, almost hyperventilating.

He smiles at you again, and hands you a cup of coffee. You take it from him, trying to stop your hands from shaking. You take a sip and wince. It's cold. Djal swirls his finger above your cup and it warms up in your hand. Djal guides you to the sitting room and you fall into your couch, still nursing your cup.