Who Needs a Diary When You Have a Demon?

Gerard knew something was different about his apartment when he moved in. His first hint really should have been the fact that it was so cheap for such a 'good' apartment. There weren't any drug dealers living next door (as far as he could tell, which was a step up from his last apartment) and he wasn't woken up every morning by arguments across the hall. The windows were all intact, the paint wasn't peeling, the place even had a doorman. It should have cost three times what it did.
He'd been living there for about a week when the weird stuff started.
Gerard was normally a forgetful person. He forgot to go shopping for food, he forgot to call his brother (which ended up with a visit from a very worried Mikey) as well as forgetting to shower, but he never usually had trouble with his stuff moving around by itself. It started with Gerard putting his coffee cup down, it would suddenly appear on a different table with only half the amount of coffee. Soon it changed into leftovers disappearing from his fridge when he couldn't remember eating it.
Soon it became even weirder.
Gerard was having a tough week. He had a pitch for Dark Horse this Friday and spent all of his time perfecting his idea. Unfortunately, this meant Gerard kept forgetting things more than he usually did. He forgot to make dinner, he forgot to order dinner, he forgot to get more coffee and he forgot several important appointments that he then had to change to later in the week.
Friday came around and Gerard was beyond nervous. He decided to (finally) take a shower in an attempt to calm down. He stood under the hot water, letting it relax his muscles. The steam helped to clear his head and he felt much better after a few minutes of standing there. He stepped out of the shower into the steamy bathroom and began to dry himself off.
He glanced up at the mirror on the wall and screamed.
Red dripped down from the top of the mirror. It rolled down the surface lazily, pooling at the base of the sink. As more red appeared, it became obvious to Gerard that it was blood. The blood clung to the condensation on the mirror and formed words among the trails.
"Don't forget to meet Mikey at 6 for dinner", Gerard read out loud.
"Huh....."
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The messages on the mirror continued for a few more weeks, ranging from appointment reminders to advice on clothes for the day and what to have for dinner. Eventually Gerard decided he wanted to meet whoever (or whatever) was leaving the messages for him. So he picked up his black nail polish and wrote below the reminder to wash his hair, "have dinner with me tonight". He capped the bottle and went to work.

Notes

It was meant to be in one part but now its in two..... oopsie :)
The next part will be longer and stuff will actually happen :)