CHAPTER 7. Getting a financial chapter 666 from hell!
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Imagine you ordered a Burger at a mainstream fast-food restaurant
Imagine then if they screwed up your order!
Instead of the standard cheap burger that you could easily afford.
Instead, you got the Mona Lisa served on top of a Gideon Bible on a very large plate carved from a solid yellow diamond.
And THEN all THAT, instead of becoming an asset, it all dissolved before your eyes!
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Now imagine getting the totally destroying financial bill for that incorrect order.
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Now imagine that there were absolutely no returns, "the customer is always wrong" policy and any debt collection agency would be ruthlessly backed by every armed force in the world, working seamlessly together in perfect harmony, to make sure they got their money!
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Now imagine the burger price you expected, for the order you expected, as a good customer was supposed to be ten times less
Now imagine the debt you are NOW ACTUALLY IN, Instead, because of the wrong order, is times, in the charged value by the mortal example given, by a billion, But was to be paid in sentient souls rather than money.
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Now imagine that instead of all the armies of the mortal world you faced all the armies of hell! Wanting their bill paid!
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Now triple the feeling that all that would give you in shock, horror and sprit crushing despair.
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THAT is ONLY almost how the Necromancer felt as he now screamed and pointed at the freshly summoned extra-large Larvae (Note NOT Lava!) Demon.
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The Necromancer kept screaming
"That's NOT what I ordered!"
"That's NOT what I ordered!"
"That's NOT what I ordered!"
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As a tidal wave of (unaffordable) flesh-eating demonic maggots surged towards the human castle!
Everything organic that the magots touched was devoured and turned into yet more demon maggots!
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The billions of little maggots all with human faces that constantly screamed even as they chewed with their mouth full!
The surface or each maggot sizzled the air with extreme flesh boiling heat
(Because air that fries, was what was on the work order!)
And each squirming body was covered in armour-piercing chips of razor-sharp hell stone.
(Because chips were also on the work order!)
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The abomination was unstoppable, relentless, and slow.
(Hell could have made the thing super-fast if they had wanted, but it would have spoiled the highly crafted artistic effect!)
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This is not the nice cheap, mass-produced Lava Demon the Necromancer had MEANT to order!
This was something else!
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These were self-replicating hell maggots, in a very slowly cascading mountain of doom!
This was a Larvae demon NOT a Lava demon!
This was NOT earth!
This was NOT fire!
This was not going to be bothered by any of the counter anti-demon spells against fire and earth that the defending human's Wizard Mal-eath had cast.
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The rest of the Necromancers army started to disband and drift away.
It was well known that the Necromancer paid his army with gold spun from magic.
And IF the Necromancer had kept his composure, the rest of the army would have kept obeying him for another month.
But the Necromancer had failed to keep his composure.
Instead, he was on the floor weeping aloud,
"I am ruined! I will never be able to afford any magic again!"
"I am ruined! I will never be able to afford any magic again!"
"I am ruined! I will never be able to afford any magic again!"
Over and over!
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No magic meant no gold.
No gold meant no pay.
No pay meant no loyalty.
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Eventually, the Necromancer was left weeping on the floor alone!
What was he going to do?
Unlike normal mortal crushing debt, it was not as if he could commit suicide to get out of it!
Hell would be waiting!
Saying that the former Necromancer was "Screwed" did not do his situation justice!
If a team of genius physicist wanted to calculate how many ways the former Necromancer was now totally screwed.
They would need three 'state of the art' cray mega computers, fifteen years, plenty of illegal hallucinogenics, some insanity and to invent some totally new concepts of geometry
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This description is not good enough.
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For me to accurately express in how many ways this poor bastard was screwed,
I would need to have the genius of Shakespeare, the wit of former actor Robin Willians, three hundred years of life to perfect my descriptive craft and to create a totally new form of, as not yet invented and a presently inconceivable new form of super sarcasm extreme 3.0!
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Put simply
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How screwed was this former necromancer?
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The answer was
"Very"
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Meanwhile, the little intern hand scribe goblin was blissfully unaware of his screw up.
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He felt an innocent warm pride in himself
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As only a budding evil hell cleric, he had sent down his very first demon summon order.
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The little goblin had honestly felt, that for a first attempt. that he had done quite well!
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Thoughts about how naturally talented he was and how gifted he must be, swam in his mind.
"I have a very bright future ahead of me!" he beamed to himself in joy!
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Meanwhile,
Back at the castle…
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Captain Mitchel looked on in fascinated horror at the crawling screaming abomination.
Very quickly he calculated very acutely in his head how much time they had left before the monstrosity got to him and his men.
He sighed and gave the only sensible order he could, given the facts.
"Fill the cauldrons and boil water!"
A sergeant next to Captain Mitchel asked
"How long do we have Captain sir?"
Captain Mitchel looked down calmly at his terrified sergeants face.
"I reckon," the captain said flatly.
"Give or take a bit"
"About 4 weeks bare minimum!"
"So, boil the water lads!" The Captain shouted.
"Time for cups of tea all round!"