The phone rang at me. I glared down at it for a minute before I picked it up, wishing that I could send a curse through the line itself. Unfortunately, the caller was probably higher ranked than me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be calling.
The persistent, shrill noise continued, until I finally grabbed the receiver just to make it stop. “Hell Service, Tech department, this is Carob, how can I help you?” I said, the words sliding out in a single sentence.
“Yeah, uh, I’m having some problems,” came the response. I rolled my eyes, holding the receiver out away from my mouth in case a swear word accidentally slipped free…
“Well, that’s what Hell Service is here for,” I said back into the phone, gritting my fangs. “Would you mind telling me what the problem is, sir?” The voice sounded male, which probably meant I wasn’t working with a succubus.
I actually didn’t mind when the succubi called in. Sure, they were simpering idiots, but most of the time their problems were easy fixes, and they were usually more than willing to whisper some very naughty words of encouragement, as if this was a game that they could win by distracting me. It might take a little longer, but their problems would eventually be solved, and I’d have to sit and stare off into nothing for a little while until my heart rate dropped back down.
This voice, however, was most definitely not a succubus. Which meant that either a human sorceror had been sent to us by another department, or a devil somewhere was having trouble.
“It’s not working,” the voice on the other end of the line pointed out, and I snapped back to the present.
“What’s not working, sir?” I asked, praying that maybe the person at the other end would give me some details.
“This infernal spell, damn you!” the voice snarled, and I felt the undercurrent of demonic rage. That little undercurrent was designed to make mortal souls quake in fear, but something was lost when it was transmitted over phone lines. Instead of losing control of my bowels, I merely had a sudden urge to use the bathroom, and even that quickly passed.
So, I was working with a devil. More good news for me.
“Sir, could I get your name, so that I might be able to provide better service?” I asked into the phone, as the echoes of his roar died away. Of course, this wasn’t so that I could provide better service. I merely wanted to pull up his file, hoping that another tech might have left notes telling me what I was dealing with.
“Name?” the devil growled. “Mordak, Wreaker of Souls! All tremble before me! All fear my demonic might! I am the destroyer of-“
“Mordak, yes, got it,” I hurriedly replied before he got too much further. If I allowed him, the devil would babble on all day.
As I soothed the angry immortal on the other end of the line, I hit a couple keys on the ancient computer in front of me. I kept on pestering my demonic overlords for a systems upgrade, but as immortals, the entire idea of obsolescence was beyond them. Finally, I got Mordak’s file pulled up. I stared at the notes left behind by other techs, and couldn’t hold back my sigh.
Pardon the cliche, but this was going to be hell…