So Your Roommate Is a Demon

Of course you didn’t intend for this to happen; Maybe RoomSurf was just too much of a hassle, or all of your friends moved off campus without telling you, or your crippling fear of commitment prevented you from choosing your own roommate. All you wanted was to hand your fate to the Gods of Housing - but the gods are cruel, and sometimes when things are left to chance they wind up fucked in a pretty major way, which is what’s happened to you: your randomly assigned roommate is an actual demonic being. Tough break. I guess that’s what you get for putting Bobb as your top choice (statistically speaking, the three dorms in which you are most likely to encounter a demon are Bobb, CCI and Hinman).

But fret no more, fellow ‘Cat - here are a few tips to help you turn that frown upside down and that cross right side up.

Identify the Problem

First and foremost, it’s important to pin down where exactly your roommate lies on the demonic benevolence scale between Hellboy and Lucifer. If you figure out early on how much wrath you’ll have to appease, it’s easier to build a regular study schedule and avoid waking up with “LOCK THE DOOR WHEN YOU GO TO CLASS” carved into your chest.

Living with a demon will involve the dousing of fires set by their cloven feet and maintaining eye contact with someone who doesn’t have pupils and whose facial features seem to be constantly shifting beneath their skin as though the bones were not meant to be contained by flesh alone. Different types of demons may also present different challenges. Rooming with a succubus? Expect to be sexiled often, and expect at least one of your roommate’s many paramours to drink all of the mango nectar you bought from Whole Foods without asking your permission (because the answer would be an OBVIOUS NO).

Try and Make Nice

Once you’ve established what type of demon your roomie is, start establishing a friendly relationship. After all, living with a demon has its pros - they know where to buy the best drugs, they’re really good at torrenting movies and they’re always down for a Burger King run.

Small sacrifices are a great way to get your foot in the door. They show that you revere your roommate’s status as a dark mystical being, but allow you to avoid swearing allegiance to the Dark Lord or whatever master your roommate is talking to at 2:33 a.m. on a Tuesday, balanced impossibly on your windowsill and gibbering in tongues at a blood-red moon.

Good Sacrifices

• Weird smelly candle your aunt brought home from Turkey
• Rare meat
• Baby tooth
• Chicken fries
• Framed picture of Morty (Go ‘Cats!)
• Issue of Cosmo with Scarlett Johansson on cover

  

Bad Sacrifices

• Your soul
• Your firstborn child
• Flowers
• Dairy products (Demons are lactose intolerant)
• Box set of seasons 1-5 of Friends
• Dried fruit

Consult The Experts

Sometimes two people, or one person and one timeless and ageless creature with an interest in receiving a top-notch college education, just don’t click. Before you join CRU in retaliation or waste your time and money following WikiHow’s instructions on making your own holy water, stroll on down to NU’s own Sheil Catholic Center.

I cannot confirm or deny the fact that every single person who works at Sheil is a trained exorcist, but either way it’s definitely worth a try. If movies have taught me anything it’s that there is probably a somberly handsome middle-aged priest whose faith has been wavering lately who will initially doubt your story until he begins to see the manifestations of a demonic presence for himself. Once he believes you and begins to take action to stop the forces of the unholy (action that you’ll inexplicably film NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS), it’s kind of a 50/50 chance on whether or not either of you will survive but, hey, maybe you’ll get a free trip to the Vatican. I’ve heard Rome is really nice this time of year.

Know When to Call it Quits

You haven’t slept in three days because of the keening noises made by the angry dead kept barely at bay by your flimsy wooden door (as though physical barriers matter to those who have already passed beyond this world - you know they’re just playing games with your sanity now). Your recurring nightmares are drenched in gore, despair and the stench of sulfur. You’re hearing voices, which alternately command you to throw yourself into the Lakefill or order a calzone from the pizza place at Norris, and your resolve is slowly slipping on both counts. It’s time to throw in the towel. Meet with the head of Residential Services, cite irreconcilable differences, and then see if any buildings have empty rooms.

Just watch out for Green House - I hear they have a really bad ghost problem.

Are YOU the devil reincarnate?  Apply to be a writer for Sherman Ave!!!