~~~~
It has all come to this, the moon is
full, the sacrifices have been made and the dark powers whisper in my ears.
With this act my army of the dead shall rise and lay waste to the mortal realm.
"By the powers of darkness and
in the name of the forgotten gods." I chanted in the night, "Rise my
undead horde, rise and obey my commands." With the chant complete I
slammed my ancient spell book forward. A jolt of magical energy surged forth
that ripped through the burial ground in front of me. With this bolt of magic
the bodies of the dead stirred once again. Soon skeletons, zombies and ghouls
of many shapes and sizes would emerge from the ground ready to follow my
command. Any second now...
Minutes passed before I realized the
dead had yet to answer my call. I repeated the incantation once more, but I was
greeted by the same results. My spell had failed.
"This is nonsense," I
yelled as I whipped out my cell phone and dialed the only people who could help
me.
"You've reached IN (Information
Necromancy) Support. Please give me your name and ID number," A woman's
voice answered.
"Batroc the Darkener," I
replied, "6161616."
"Okay Lord Darkener," she
continued, "how may I help you today."
"My undead horde refuses to
rise from their graves." I described my plight, "I've done the
incantation and cast the spell, but they won't respond."
"Okay sir," she ruffled
some papers, "Let me go over a quick checklist with you to see if you're
missing anything."
"Fine whatever," I tapped
my foot impatiently.
"So do you have your dark
circle inscribed on the ground?" She asked.
"Of course," I scoffed.
"Is your spell book up to
date?" She continued.
"Obviously," I growled.
"Is your selected burial ground
at least 150 years of age, and did at least 70% of those buried there die in
some form of tragedy?" The IN Support Woman inquired.
"Y-yes, I think," I
fumbled, "It's Manchester Heights graveyard, it was built in the 1800s.
It's where they buried coal miners who died on the job."
"Okay sir, but let me quickly
double check that." The woman typed on her computer, "I'm sorry Lord
Darkener, but it says here Manchester Heights graveyard was built 78 years ago
in the 1900s."
"What!" I yelled,
"That can't be right."
"Lord Darkener I believe you're
thinking of Manchester Oak graveyard." the IN woman explained, "It's
only twenty miles away from Manchester Heights."
"What am I supposed to do
now," I screamed into the phone, "I need this army for
tomorrow."
"There is no need to yell Lord
Darkener." she assured me, "You may have to switch to a different
spell if you want to raise the dead in that graveyard." Switch to a
different spell, is she mad? If I had such a spell I wouldn't have called her
in the first place.
"I want to speak to your
supervisor," I demanded.
"Certainly sir," she
agreed and transferred me. By the forgotten gods I'm going to raise my army
tonight and I won't stop until someone tells me what I want to hear.
~~~~
I've read so many Tech Support horror stories that this one came naturally. Just replace the computer with spell books and zombies. As for that longer story I mentioned earlier, I have no idea when I'll finish that. It's half-way done at least, and I have other stories I can post in the meantime. Until then, Read, Comment and Enjoy.
(Also, does this story count as Urban Fantasy? I'm going to say it does, you know for marketability.)
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