“I’m sorry, was that…a joke?” Oliver asked the talking hanging skeleton in disbelief.

  The hanging bone man…woman…thing, turned it’s skull slightly downcast, almost as if in shame.

  “Not my best I know, but it is hard to think of new ones when all the blood is rushing to your feet. One’s brain has trouble thinking straight.” the skull said.

  Oliver stepped over the debris field of bones in the pit to get a better view of the chained figure.

  “Erm…you don’t have blood, or a brain either…never mind, who are you?” Oliver said, checking himself as he realised that pointing out inconsistencies in a talking skeleton’s words was probably not the most productive thing he could be doing right now.

  The skeleton’s jaw opened wide, its limbs and ribcage tensing, as if excited to be asked such a question.

  “Who am I? Oh well it is so nice to be asked that, but…I think at this moment it is probably more important who you are, may I extend the same question to you?”

  This skeleton seemed a lot more polite than the others, but maybe that was because it was chained up and was in no position to try and bite Oliver’s face off.

  It’s voice was deep and croaky, but not nearly as croaky as he expected someone with no vocal chords of even lungs to sound like. What was even stranger was how well spoken it was. It had a strong RP British accent, which coupled with the gravelly tone, made it sound like some elderly British thespian.

  Still wary of the posh sounding prisoner and desperate for any answers at all to his mountain of questions, Oliver replied, “I’m Oliver, I…just got here, what is this place? Why am I here?”

  “Oh dear, it’s happened again hasn’t it. I’m so sorry my lad, but I believe you have been the victim of a summoning. They happen every month. Oh I do feel for the summons, I really do. But I must say you’ve done better than most. Well done!” the skeleton shook it’s shackled hands back and forth, as if trying and failing to clap Oliver.

  “Summoning? I was summoned here? Why?” Oliver asked, frantic to ask even more questions than before.

  “Slow down my boy, take a seat, make yourself comfortable and we can have a good chin wag.” The skeleton said.

  Oliver, slightly bewildered, looked around the chamber. There were no chairs, just bones strewn everywhere.

  Did this thing think of this as it’s living room or something?

  Feeling relatively safe as long as all the bones didn’t start crawling again, Oliver went over to the wall and sat cross legged with his back against it, looking up at the chained skeleton. He kept his hand torch lit as the wind occasionally blew through, though he had to keep his arm outstretched or risk setting his thin pyjamas on fire.

  The skeleton, apparently taking him sitting down as a cue to start talking again, began speaking animatedly, swaying slightly in the breeze.

  “So to start, you are in the dungeons of Brackhurst castle. While I agree it is not the most inviting place in the world, I find that it has a certain charm to it. Charm being the operative word of course, in that it is the home of the esteemed wizard Herman Lunoteck.”

  Oliver momentarily racked his brain to see if he knew a Brackhurst castle, before giving up as it was ultimately pointless. Even though he was from England where old castles were fairly common, this was clearly not a castle from Earth at all. Last time he checked, castles didn’t summon people and have animated skeletons running around.

  “So I was summoned here by a wizard? Why?” Oliver asked.

  The skeleton simply continued as if Oliver had said nothing.

  “Yes, Herman Lunoteck is the master of this castle. He’s quite famous around these parts. He’s loved by nobles and peasants alike. He has advised kings and emperors and has saved the realm multiple times. Put food on thousands of tables, slain several dragons and rescued too many children from burning orphanages to count. His magic is second to none, rivalled only by the College Warlocks, but of course they are boastful and selfish and keep to themselves, so they are shunned by all. Only Lunoteck is worthy of the love and adoration of the people, only he is talented, capable and handsome enough to aid the realm in it’s plight. And this castle, oh it is as charming and enchanting as it’s master. A place for comfort, solace and private reflection. Built from the finest stone and enchanted within an inch of it’s life. Many come from miles around to witness the marvels that take place here. It has hosted kings and queens and even emperors, and has hosted lavish balls and exciting tourneys. Anyone who is anyone has been a guest of the master Lunoteck ”

  Oliver looked around at the dank, draughty stone room, with the crumbling walls and literal holes in the ceiling open to the sky.

  “So you see, you are really quite honoured to be here dear boy.” The skeleton finished with a permanent smile, looking at Oliver with those empty eyes of black.

  Oliver waited for a moment to make sure the skeleton was truly done before replying. He had been excited and hopeful at first that he could get some answers, but all it had done was raise more questions. And Oliver was not entirely sure this thing could be trusted at it’s word anyway, considering it’s contradictions in it’s glowing sales pitch for the castle and host.

  “How do you know all of this?” Oliver asked carefully after a long pause.

  “It is a butler’s job to know the history and reputation of his master and his estate. I know it down to my marrow” The skeleton seemed to push out it’s rib cage slightly as if in pride.

  “Wait, you’re the butler?”

  “Yes my dear boy, don’t act so surprised. I know we are in need a spring clean down here but I can assure you that you will marvel at the wonders of the rooms above.”

  “Okay, but if you’re the butler, then why are you down here chained to a wall?”

  The skeleton seemed to ponder this, turning it’s skull this way and that, before finally turning back to Oliver and looking blankly at him again.

  “You don’t know?” Oliver asked.

  “I do know, it’s just…rather embarrassing.” The skeleton splayed it’s hands defensively.

  “Well can you at least tell me about this summoning? You said it happened every month. And that I’d done better than most. Why was I summoned here?” Oliver got up and gestured to the dungeon at large with his flaming hand.

  The boney figure somehow looked sheepish as he dangled from his shackles.

  “Yes…I did say that didn’t I. Well…you see…I have rather embarrassingly lost track of the master’s projects…or indeed…the master in general. I came down to the wine cellar one day to fetch the master a bottle of the finest red for his guests. Our cellar has thousands of bottles and vintages that go back centuries you see and we had occasionally needed to expand the cellar into the dungeon to make room. I find the right bottle and the next thing I know, I am chained to this wall. It was rather undignified to say the least, but I made the most of it. I made a mental inventory of all of the master’s wine collection. I waited for the master to find me and let me down, no doubt some spell or safeguard had backfired, but he never did oddly enough. It was quite strange I’ll tell you, and inconvenient.”

  The skeleton ground it’s teeth slightly before continuing. “I think it was about a month in, I’m not sure, when I heard the sound of magic from deeper in the dungeon. I had never gone that deep in there myself, too cold you see and not very sanitary. The sound faded and I thought nothing of it. Then I heard the same sound, the sound of strong magic a month later. Then again and again. It became a regular occurrence. It let me keep track of the time so I was rather thankful for it.”

  “How long have you been down here?” Oliver asked.

  “From the amount of summons, I estimate 210 years 3 months, give or take a month or two when I may have been preoccupied when the summoning happened that month.”

  “Preoccupied, what could you possibly have been doing…you know what, not important.”

  Oliver took in the skeleton before him in bewilderment. It had been chained to this wall for over 200 years. He was tempted to ask if it had been a skeleton before it was chained up or if something had kept it alive and it’s flesh had rotted off over time.

  “And your master, this “Lunatic” never once came down to find you or free you?” Oliver asked in disbelief.

  “Lunoteck, let us not smear the master’s good name. He is obviously too busy with his courtly duties or preoccupied with his latest project to be constantly checking in on his butler, who is supposed to run things for him.”

  Oliver rolled his eyes, this thing was in so much denial it would give flat-earthers a run for their money.

  “I must say it is nice to be able to have a conversation again. You are the first real conversation I’ve had in…well…136 years.” The skeleton clacked his feet together.

  “Who was the last person?” Oliver asked

  “A rather thin young man who looked like he could do with a good meal crawled in here. He told me that he had come from a place called Lon-don, said his name was Jack and that there were others chained up down there. That’s when it all fell into place. The strong magic I could sense was a summoning ritual. People were being summoned and appearing in shackles in the castle dungeon. This Jack, very odd name, only managed to escape by cutting his own hand off after several weeks.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Wait how did he cut his hand off if he was in shackles” Oliver asked, chastising himself for asking yet another pointless question. He always had a need to clarify whenever something didn’t make immediate sense.

  “Apparently he happened to have a knife in his hand at the time he was summoned.” The skeleton said humorously.

  “What happened to him?” Oliver asked, curious if there was someone else alive down here.

  The skeleton gestured with it’s leg to the various bones scattered about.

  “He didn’t get far I’m afraid. He was bleeding out from his cut hand and then…the other summons turned on him.” The skeleton said regretfully, shaking it’s skull, making it’s teeth chatter.

  “So those skeletons were other summons?” Oliver looked at the piles and piles of thin white bones.

  “Yes, ones that didn’t manage to break their shackles and…expired shall we say. When they are nothing but bones, the castle’s natural magic eventually reanimates them. Quite remarkable actually, we didn’t even have to tell it to do that.”

  “Is that what happened to you? You got reanimated?” Oliver asked curiously.

  “Certainly not, the idea!” The skull opened it’s mouth wide in outrage. “Those reanimated scaffolds are nothing but dumb beasts. Incapable of speech or anything really. Attack anything on sight but as you have seen, useless in a fight and hardly stellar company. I often made a game of seeing how many could walk across this room without stumbling or losing a limb or two, the record was 5 in 10 minutes.”

  Oliver thought for a moment. It made sense, with one summon every month for over 200 years that would be over 2000 people. That explained the amount of skeletons, and meant there were probably a lot more wandering around.

  He started pacing.

  “Okay, so random people have been getting summoned, appearing in the dungeon in shackles and in the 200 plus years this has been happening, only one person has managed to free themselves before starving to death. Those that do die are reanimated when they are just skeletons and they roam around being creepy and menacing. I think understand all that.” Oliver said more to himself than the skeleton. “What I don’t understand is the question you’ve been avoiding answering. Why are people being summoned in the first place? Is this Lunoteck guy summoning them? If so, why?”

  The skeleton looked away from Oliver and stared at the floor.

  “You don’t know do you?” Oliver asked sarcastically.

  “…no, I haven’t the foggiest. I have tried dear boy to think why Master Lunoteck would do this, and for so long, but it has defeated me. I assume it is beyond my comprehension. I’m sure if you went up to the castle itself and talked to the master he would be more than happy to explain.” The skeleton said cheerfully.

  Oliver looked over at the portcullis that was blocking the only way out of the room. He turned to go over to it, but stopped and looked back at the chained figure, gently swaying with a gentle clinking noise.

  “Do you want me to…get you down, somehow?” Oliver asked after a pause.

  “Oh I couldn’t possibly ask such a thing dear fellow, it wouldn’t be proper to have a guest in the castle help the butler. My embarrassment in my duty failures is already extensive.” The skeleton said.

  “I don’t really see myself as a guest, more of a prisoner. But let me just try something.”

  Oliver squinted at the shackles that held the figure high on the wall.

  ASSESSING MOST PROBABLE PATHS:

  PATH 1: FORCIBLY BREAK SHACKLE

  MORTAL CHANCE: 55%

  MYTHIC CHANCE: 100%

  PATH 2: MANOEUVRE LIMB FREE

  MORTAL CHANCE: 70%

  MYTHIC CHANCE: 100%

  MYTHIC MANA STORE: 70% CAPACITY

  It seemed if he used his MYTHIC MANA STORE again, he would essentially guarantee those outcomes. But it seemed that it now viewed his MORTAL CHANCES of achieving the results to be as high as his previous MYTHIC CHANCES. They seemed to be taking into account the buffs he already had. Applying his MYTHIC MANA STORE again would probably give him even more strength or make his arm…even greasier?

  Thinking his chances were already high with just MORTAL CHANCE, Oliver decided he should try and ration the MYTHIC MANA STORE and use what he already had.

  He tried to climb the wall to reach the dangling figure.

  “Please dear boy there is really no need for this, you go on and talk to the master he will…” the skeleton pleaded, embarrassment colouring his rich voice.

  Oliver slipped on the stone as he couldn’t get a proper handhold. His flaming hand was getting in the way and not allowing him any grip from the lubricant, despite it being on fire.

  He then tried throwing things with his left hand at the shackles to try and break them from afar. His aim was terrible, the target was too small and the materials he was throwing were either bones or random rocks which which crumbled away pretty much as soon as he threw them. It seemed the MYTHIC MANA STORE only affected his strength and not other factors.

  After the fifth rock throw bounced back and nearly took his eye out and he tried and failed again to climb, Oliver smacked the wall with his fist in frustration.

  The stone wall that the skeleton hung from shook violently, chunks of stone falling and breaking on the floor.

  Oliver looked at the pockmarked wall and smiled.

  “Oh this will take forever to clean up, please my lad just make your way out and…” the skeleton moaned.

  Oliver smashed his left fist into the wall several times, and the wall that seemed held together with hopes and dreams to begin with, crumbled. The stone that held the shackles was torn from the wall and the skeleton was flung across the room. The stones falling and the wind now blowing through the cracks caused Oliver’s hand torch to go out once again.

  Oliver made an effort to try and catch the skeleton as it fell, but he also realised there were large chunks of heavy stone falling towards him as well. So rather than being crushed flat, he decided to get the fuck out of the way.

  Once the wall had fallen and the dust had settled, the room somehow looked even more like a bomb site than before.

  “Erm…are you okay…mister…erm…Ian?” Oliver shouted, suddenly realising he had not asked the skeleton’s name.

  “I’m over here son, my my that certainly did the trick.” Came a muffled voice from underneath a pile of stones.

  Oliver gingerly walked over the rubble in his bare feet and dug through the stone pieces until he unearthed the bones of the well spoken bone man.

  He then recoiled as he realised that most of the bones of the main body were broken and shattered, splinters jutting up like weird twigs, the skull the only fully intact part of the body.

  “Oh god, I’m so sorry…erm…are you okay?” Oliver said, as he knelt down and picked up the skull.

  The skull spoke, the cranium bobbing up and down on the jaw as it moved, vibrating slightly with each word.

  “Well I have been better I must say. When one hasn’t moved in two centuries one would like a chance to stretch ones legs, but it seems my legs have been well and truly stretched and snapped.”

  “I am so sorry…erm, I can try and rebuild you maybe?” Oliver said apologetically, looking around frantically at the broken piles of bones.

  “No no, not to worry, I needed to lose some weight anyway. This was a blessing in disguise.” The skull clacked it’s teeth together.

  “Is that meant to be a grin?” Oliver asked, holding the skull a little further at arms length.

  “I can’t really do much else, I don’t exactly have the face for smiling these days.” The butler said.

  As Oliver looked at the butler’s skull held in his hands, he saw the same green text appear.

  ASSESSING MOST PROBABLE PATHS:

  PATH 1: RE-ASSEMBLE SKELETON

  MORTAL CHANCE: 30%

  MYTHIC CHANCE: 90%

  PATH 2: MYTHICALLY INVEST SKELETON

  MORTAL CHANCE: 0%

  MYTHIC CHANCE: 100%

  MYTHIC MANA STORE: 70% CAPACITY

  Oliver stared at the text. Did re-assembling the skeleton with MYTHIC CHANCE mean he would fix the bones, or would it make him smarter and allow him to spot more intact replacements?

  He put that path aside as he was intrigued by PATH 2. He had no idea what it meant to MYTHICALLY INVEST something. Did it mean he gave some of the MYTHIC MANA to the skeleton, or something else?

  “Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something in my teeth?” The skull said, causing Oliver to jump.

  “Oh, nothing, I just have something that I think can help you.” Oliver replied.

  Oliver paused. Did the skeleton butler know about MYTHIC CHANCES and MYTHIC MANA STORES? He had just assumed that the green text he was seeing was part of the magic of this place and that everyone had it. But the butler hadn’t mentioned anything about it, implying that at the very least it wasn’t commonplace. This idea was further bolstered when Oliver considered that if everyone could use this power, why was he the only summon in over 100 years that had managed to free themselves. Surely everyone would have free themselves easily.

  Taking the plunge and selecting PATH 2, Oliver felt the now familiar coldness seep through him and the same tone play.

  Looking at the text again, he saw his MYTHIC MANA STORE was at 50% CAPACITY now. Whatever he had just done had taken twice as much as the other times he’d tried. This made him excited and a little nervous that he had maybe made the wrong choice and wasted it.

  He looked down and did a double take.

  He saw what looked like wisps of purple smoke coming from the base of the butler’s skull. The smoke seemed to swirl and undulate in an unseen breeze, moving this way and that, as if seeking something.

  Oliver walked with the skull, watching as the smoke continued to stretch out, like fingers searching for something to grasp.

  Eventually, as they neared the edge of the pit where Oliver had fought the other skeleton summons, the smoke seemed to snap into something more solid, and Oliver felt a pull on the skull itself, the smoke forming a straight line to a headless skeleton body nearby.

  As he took a few steps closer, the pull grew stronger, until Oliver’s lubricant covered fingers caused him to let go. The butler’s skull flew through the air and slammed onto the neck joint of the headless body on the ground with a loud click.

  The sound of the “Tada!” tone played in Oliver’s head. So it really was playing that when he succeeded at something.

  The now fully formed skeleton shook, as a brief flash caused every bone to light up. When the light subsided, the butler skeleton stood, it’s new bone body creaking and twisting at odd angles, as if it were being tested.

  “Well that is a wonderful trick you have up your sleeve young man I must say. Are you trained in the magical arts? You really must speak with the master.” The skeleton said animatedly, it’s legs doing a little skip and it’s fingers flexing and clicking.

  “I honestly doubt your master is still alive, it’s been over 200 years. Either way, I need to get into the castle itself. It looks like there will be some bloody answers in there” Oliver said solemnly.

  “I will accompany you sir, I need to make sure that the staff have not become lax in my brief absence. Thank you for the assistance.” The skeleton said, extending a boney hand, a spider crawling away from the tip of the index finger.

  Oliver shook the butler’s hand with his right, the wet slap of the lubricant echoing in the air. He was glad he hadn’t used his left hand, or he may have broken the skeleton’s bones all over again. “Erm…sure, if you want. By the way, what’s your name?” He said as he broke away.

  “We butler’s renounce our names when we enter the service of our master, and so we allow ourselves to be referred to by any name our master or his guests dane to address us by.” There was a creak as the skeleton gave a slight bow.

  “So…I can call you whatever I like?” Oliver asked.

  “Precisely, though if I were to provide a personal request, I would politely ask you refrain from any names relating to bones. One, it is far too obvious, and two it is far too crass.”

  “Alright.” Oliver said, thinking of what best to call him.

  He discarded the million and one bone pun names that had been buzzing around in his head as soon as he’d started talking to him, and focused on something that fit the butler’s personality more.

  He thought back to the skeleton’s voice reminding him of an old British thespian, and the perfect name came to mind.

  “How about Ian?” Oliver said with a smile.

  “Hmm, Ian…short, simple and practical. I like it. I will be Ian my good man.” Ian did a little skip with his feet again, causing Oliver to laugh.

  He thought that he would perhaps keep the full name he had in mind “Ian McKeleton” to himself for now.