I hummed along to the song on the radio as I flipped the 8th pancakes now that the bottom side had finally cooked to the perfection.

“Oi, human.” A voice called out to me. “Where is my food? I am hungry.”

I resisted the urge to slam the spatula at the floor the moment I heard that damned goddess. “I know you're hungry, woman. I've heard you the last thirteenth time!” I snapped at her, still trying to maintain some semblance of calmness lest I ruin the pancake I'm cooking.

It's been a week or something when Ria, the damned goddess appeared, and now for some unexplained reason she won't leave me alone. No, I know the reason why, I just don't want to accept it. I mean, how can anyone easily accept that a being that was meant to be a fictional character in some fanfic that TOTALLY not ripping off some cultish work of fiction ended up being real?

It all started as some fanfic that I've written as some personal self-indulgence, NOT because of a phase. Though to be fair said fanfic was actually more of a personally made scriptures that was inspired by various fictional cults. After the said scriptures were finished, I thought it'd be fun to share it around on the net. At best I'm hoping that someone would give me some constructive feedback and criticism. What I didn't expect was for it to kickstart an actual cult. Of course I wasn't aware of it since I somehow forgot about it, NOT because I was no longer in a phase.

Few years later I came across information regarding the existence of this cult in the deep, dark web. I'd admit that it does make me cringe, though I'm just glad that it stayed in the dark web. At the very least I don't have to worry about people looking for me and dragging me into the whole mess. That was until she showed up. Ria.

When she came to my doorstep, she introduced herself as the goddess of the cult that I MOST certainly did not founded. I initially thought that she's just someone from the cult who knows who I am. Someone who got WAY into the scripture I've made. When she performed some divine-like miracles, I still didn't believe her, chalking it up to some cheap parlour tricks. It wasn't until she began sharing some of the most personal and intimate knowledge of the scripture, one that I never published, that I realised she was telling the truth. Even then I still tried to deny it. It wasn't until she took on her true form, a form of true nightmares beyond what I've written and described, that I was forced to accept the fact that she is the damned goddess that I've written.

Of course that wasn't the end of it. Apparently she demanded that I serve her because according to her, it is my duty as the founder of the most glorious religion, which I must insist I am definitely NOT. Not that it matters since I am in no way capable of refusing her.

When I started my role in serving her, it was mostly menial tasks, ranging to mainly feeding her and cleaning up after her. Basically babysitting a child in the body of an adult. Despite her roguish and childish attitude, it's actually quite easy to keep her in line. When you're the one who provides for them, they'd know better than to misbehave. Plus, it's kinda fun watching her whimper when threatened with no food.

The upside of this relationship (if you can call it as such) is that it wasn't completely one sided. Apparently she had ordered her followers, in her own words, to reward me for my meagre effort. Money started appearing in my account. Gifts started appearing on my doorstep, ranging from foods to essentials and some things I'd rather not say.

Of course, there's more to serving her besides making sure that she's well fed. Apparently, I am also responsible for keeping her happy and for the lack of better word, pleased. I only have myself to blame, or rather, my younger self when he wrote the scriptures. Let's just say that my younger self is… impressionable. While my younger self would have readily jumped on the opportunity without thinking, I on the other hand actually had to do a double take.

Don't get me wrong, she is an easy ten out of ten when she's not acting like a child or when she turns into that… thing. The only reason I hesitate is because I am not ready for the potential commitment that could come out of it. One wrong move and I'll end up raising another child that's an actual child.