There he was - today's client. An enormous serpent feared by many, and known by one name: Jörmungandr.

One thought came across Lia's mind: this guy reeks of fish.

After all, when you've spent the last millennia rotting in the great ocean, terrifying the dark deep, and wreaking chaos upon lonesome sailors, you're bound to be fishier than any fish.

Lia looked at the gaming laptop placed gently upon the dock, with the serpent's car-sized eyes peering into the screen.

"Thine... God of War, how doth you participate?"

"Yeah, no worries, I'll guide you through basic gameplay. The most important thing is setting up your laptop, seeing as it's your first time."

"This book of which you calle a 'laptop'... It has a tayle."

"T-that's a charger, not a tail. It's connected to that outlet there, since these things eat up a lot of power."

The giant serpent's eyes narrowed.
"Power? It consumes power? Of what kind?"

"Uh, around three hundred watts per hour."

"Threigh houndredth of what? Power? How doth you define power?"

Lia sighed. "I know the concept of electricity is confusing, but have you heard of Zeus?"

The sea serpent snarled. "It consumes the power of Zeus himself...! And you are allouwed to wield such a maighty book?"

"It's not a book, more like a... device? Anyway, we need to set up a username. What username do you want?"

"Define 'username'."

"Okay, so you know when you go online, you shouldn't really use your real name, because it could be dangerous..."

"There is none on this... 'line' that you speak of which can harm me - I find no equal, other than my brougther Fenrir, or my faether Loki."

Lia stared at the giant... water thing. "Yeah, okay, I get you, big guy. But 'Jormungandr' is a taken username already."

"Hmmph! This puny booklet that leeches off the power of Zeus, also leeches off my nayme? There is none other than I, Jörmungandr, and my nayme is mine aloune."

"Nothing I can do about it. How about... JormungandrTheGiantSerpent...? It's not taken yet, and describes you well."

"I am not a mere serpent. I am the middle chylde of Loki, ruler of the World Sea, and there art none like me!" he bellowed. The screech stank of blood.

"Okay, sheesh, take a mint! We're gonna use JormunStinkyBreath then."

"What does that mean?"

"It describes you. Now, we're gonna need a date of birth."

"I am not simply born on a date. I am a descendant of the GODS themselves. I am Jörmungandr!"

Lia sighed. This was gonna be a long one.

---

koffee_kitsune

The printer was disassembled. This would not usually be a problem, but the constituent parts had seemed to decide that it was time to make a floating pentagram. The room seemed to be lit by a fire place, and there was a continual, albeit soft, chorus of screaming. The terrifying face came back into view, covering up the scene.

"What the hell were you trying to print?" Teddy said under his breath. His mic picked it up just fine.

"What the hell indeed" said the client, before letting off a bone chilling laugh. They were red and scaly, and certainly had horns, but Teddy thought it rude to ask if they were djinnic, demonic or draconic. Teddy had only been in support for a few months and had collected a laundry list of faux pas in his performance reviews. The client had given their name but Teddy lacked the vocal folds needed to use it. The company's videocall software didn't have good audio quality either, and the client had kept cutting out while explaining exactly what was wrong.

"Sir, or um, Madame... Distinguished patron, for prompt delivery of your IT solution it would be best if you abstain from sinister implications and double entendres." said Teddy. He sat on a tiny desk covered in protective runes, just like the runes covering his cubicle walls. His desk was one of hundreds in a cubicle labyrinth, lit up under tinny tube lights. Above Teddy's tinnitus, the whining of cheap LEDs became the background noise of life itself. He had a little company provided pillow under his desk, and meals were delivered twice a day. In short it was the best job he'd ever had.

"Right, sorry, our daughter needed it for a presentation at school. Just a simple hex, she really took to it too. They gave her all summer for it but the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, hey, got it done in one night!" said the client. Their face had contorted into a wicked sneer, which was actually a beaming smile but humans weren't designed to be smiled at by entities like the client. Teddy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, something of the animal response to quickly approaching death, but the employee manual had assured that workplace accidents were incredibly rare. Once every couple of months, which was a leading industry rate, the manual had repeated.

"Just a simple hex? What kind of incantation school are we talking?" asked Teddy. He didn't know much about hexes, on account of his degree being in information technology and cyber security, but he was really good at using Google.

"Nothing too peculiar, just a simple blood reversal hex, but the way *-* wired it was really quite clever! You see, normally *-* reverse the flow of the atriums but *-*" said the client, their lips continuing to move. The audio was cutting in and out but that suited Teddy just fine. He was reading the wikihow on how hexes worked. After a while he gave up and opened the hex in Microsoft paint.

"Ah here's the issue, look in between the sigils. There's a whole other hex in here. Have you noticed any activity at home in the room where the printer is stored?" asked Teddy.

"Now that you mention it, our furniture has been rearranging itself, and the cauldrons been bubbling when it shouldn't be..." said the client.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say this hex came straight off Google. Let me try plugging it in... Yeah literally the first result." said Teddy.

"No, it couldn't be, Anathema's a straight A student. We certainly raised a cheater but never with her education" said the client. They had taken on a pensive look now. They clearly didn't believe what they were saying, which was good, because if they did then soon there would be no more Teddy. The customer is always right wasn't just a platitude for Teddy, it was how he survived.

"I think I know what's going on, it looks like the interlayed hex is for a portal, looks like you've been the victim of a backdoor attack." said Teddy.

"Will that cost me a lot to fix?" said the client.

"Well the good news is the printer is a fairly easy fix, but the bad news is you're going to have to call in pest control. Looks like you have some ghosts. If you haven't noticed them yet they couldn't be more than, say, poltergeists." said Teddy.

"Oh, just poltergeists? Shouldn't need pest control for that, I'll put a few traps around. But what about the printer? I could never put something like that back together, even the error messages are Babylonian to me." said the client.

"Ah that's a part of our customer service guarantee. We'll get a technician over for the printer in the next few hours. In the meantime, I'm going to send you a survey, if you'd be so kind as to fill it out and tell them what kind of experience you had..."

Andy: Greetings! Supernatural tech support service center. I'm Andy, how may I help you today?

Medusa: I think I may have bricked my laptop. Would you be able to help with that? I can send you a screenshot, I am borrowing Arachne's laptop to contact you.

Andy: My lady! That's solid stone all around your laptop! I thought you only turn people to stone when they look at you! Would you be able to retrace how that happened?

Medusa: I'm not sure, the last thing I did was argue with Perseus about how rude it is to punt a lady's head after decapitating it. Next thing I know, my laptop turned to stone!

Andy: Don't sweat it, my lady! Bring your laptop to your nearest service center, and we will assign a dwarf to mine your laptop out of that hard rock!

--ticket number 10009--

Dwarf Engineer Andvari has reported that the stoning affected only external components. Laptop has been successfully mined out of the stone and returned to customer fully fuctional.

--ticket closed--

Andy: Greetings! Supernatural tech support service center. I'm Andy, how may I help you today?

Ares: FIX LAPTOP NOW.

Andy: Please specify your problem so we may better diagnose your laptop problems.

Ares: SMASHED IT. LOKI IS FUCKING CHEATER. HACKER. AUTO AIM PUSSY. NOW LAPTOP DOES NOT TURN ON.

Andy: Ares, I may not be able to advise you over the phone. Please send your laptop down to your nearest service center for repairs. If our dwarf engineers deem the damage too severe, you may consider buying a new laptop.

Ares: THROW IT TO YOU. MUST CATCH.

Andy: Ares, please, that is very dangerous. Please be informed that it is a criminal offense to be violent towards our staff.

Ares: I WILL WALK.

--ticket 10010--

Dwarf Engineer Fargrim has deemed the damage too severe to repair. Customer laptop is within warranty period. Replacement laptop will be sent to customer address in one week's time. We will not replace laptop if customer smashes it again.

--ticket closed--

Andy: Greetings! Supernatural tech support service center...Whoa it has been a long while since you last came by our service center! You really should be getting out more often and getting some real, actual sunlight, not the illusionary stuff. You don't look so good today.

Gwyndolin: I requesth thy assistance to set up content control web filters on these covenant laptops.

Andy: Any particular websites or content you wish to block your covenant members from accessing?

Gwyndolin: A 'chosen undead' who recently joined mine covenant has been spreading R34 pictures of me. Thou shalt block these websites here in this list provided. If thou art a true discipline of the Dark Sun, thou shalt Hunteth these heretics.

Andy: I'm afraid the latter request is beyond me, we ain't in Anor Londo. Also, PVP isn't allowed here in this support center. I can definitely help with the website filters though. Would you be able to come back to collect these laptops before we close shop today?

Gwyndolin: I shalt return tomorrow morning. I have an evening appointment with Sulyvahn.

Andy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gwyndolin: Thou shalt not shout in such an offensive manner. Pray tell, what thy know of Sulyvahn.

Andy: I played over 1000 hours of Dark Souls 3!!! I...I'll see you tomorrow. Please come to pick up the laptops tomorrow please.

--ticket 10011--

Website content filters have been set up as per customer specifications on all laptops. Pending customer collection.

--UPDATE--

Customer has not returned to collect the laptops for over 3 months and has not responded to phone calls, emails and snail mail reminders. Ticket has been automatically closed.

--ticket closed--

"Sure, the payments are often in jewels or ancient forms of currency, but if you know the right people you can do well with the exchange rate!"

The intern blinked at me in confusion and I let out a sigh. Not everyone is cut out for this line of work. It's genuinely more work than any other tech job you can get.

You have odd hours, a less knowledgeable clientele, and you have to do work on the back end for a lot of the benefits to be actually beneficial -such as, finding a reliable money launderer who doesn't mind converting drachme into USD.

The main benefit was ahem social. Half of us support people are monster fuckers, the other half want to become monsters... and also fuck monsters.

But even without those benefits, you still get the chance to travel a lot and challenge yourself. Not every IT person gets to install ethernet into Eastern European castles or find ways to help an aquatic being with their internet access.

We'd just have to see if the newbie was up to the challenge.

"Thank you for calling tech support, this is Jack, how may I help you?"

IT'S RUNNING SLOW.

"It's running slow... Your domain?"

THE UNIVERSE

"Ah I see. Have you tried rebooting it?"

RE....BOOT?

"Turning it off and back on again."

I WILL TRY. ONE MOMENT.

Jack feels a strange empty sensation

IT IS STILL SLOW

"Ok... One moment please."

Jack takes a moment to shake off the feeling of waking from a long, deep slumber

"I see your system has a lot of dark matter cluttering things up; data's corrupt. You might have some bad sectors on your storage media causing dark matter to accumulate. We can try restoring your system to the most recent backup. You'd lose some progress on the universe, but as long as it's not too recent then we shouldn't run into any problems. Would that be ok? Do you know when was the last time you backed up your system?"

IT DOES THAT AUTOMATICALLY. IT WILL BE FINE. GO AHEAD.

"Alright just give me a minute here and I'll have that restored for you."

VERY WELL.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

NO

"Ok your system is restoring... Now."

...----------------------------------------------------------------------...

"Thank you for calling tech support, this is Jack, how may I help you?"

IT'S RUNNING SLOW

"I still don't understand, I just want to turn my... Dollars? Into gold coins. Isn't that an easy thing to do?" Minnie covered her mic and mouthed a swear, then looked back at the dragon on the screen.

"Alright Vasriq, I'll explain again. You have money, dollars, and you want gold. Well you can't really just order it offline. You can but it'll be overpriced. You're better off going to a currency exchange or precious metal dealer and directly buying gold yourself. This really isn't a website issue, it's just not the right way to get what you want." She explained it politely for the thirteenth time, hoping he understood this time.

Vasriq glared vaguely at the Webcam. "Very well, I shall find a... Gold... Dealer. How many gold coins can I buy with this amount?"

"What amount?"

"It says 23.75 on my... App."

"Vasriq, get a job. You're going to need it."

[removed]

I fucking hate Mondays.

And I already know what you’re thinking.

“Sure, don’t we all?” but you don’t understand. My job is hell, literally.

I clock in at 8:57 every morning to my job. The place is called Bartholomew & Jones. It sounds like a boring law office or something benign, but it’s so much worse than you could imagine.

If you walked onto the main floor, you might think it was the New York stock exchange in the 80s. Men in stiff suits pace angrily around the edges of the room while charts with a live feed violently rise and fall. But at Bartholomew & Jones, we’re not trading stocks. We’re trading souls.

“Victor!” an ugly woman with a raspy smoker's voice shouts my name as she taps on my desk, “the boss wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks, Linda,” I force a smile as she limps off. Linda was a part of “the family” here at B&J. She has been employed since the late 50s, making her at least 80 years old. I suspect she hasn’t quit because, for some reason or another, she still wants to live.

I get up from my uncomfortable chair and make a bee-line towards the boss’ office. These people were cheap on furniture, and the starting pay was shit, but, I’m about a year, I was able to work myself up to a pretty decent salary, making twice what my friends who worked more “traditional” careers were pulling. Of course, there were certain magical NDAs that I signed which prevented me from telling them what I did, even if I wanted to, I’d immediately burst into flames.

The boss’ office was perched high above everyone on the main floor's head. It was mostly walled off, save for a small window that aligned perfectly with his desk, so while you couldn’t see him, he could most certainly look down and see you.

I picked at a scab on my knuckle anxiously as I made my way up the metal staircase. The sound of my leather shoes clip-clopping on each stair gathered the attention of my coworkers, who, one-by-one began to look up from their desks to watch me. There was Kevin in logistics with a snide grin on his face. Fucking asshole was always trying to sink me by conveniently misplacing the souls I poached on their way to “that place.”

I cast him a glair like daggers. He lost grip of his coffee mug, and it spilled all over the papers on his desk “GoddamnSHIT!” he says, and I enjoy a momentary chuckle before I remember I’m on my way to see the big man: Stephen Jones, the 4th.

The doorknob to his office was a heavy cold steel that looked like it was hammered into a rough shape back in the 1500's. The door was wooden and smelled of cedar & salt. It swung open with a loud creak.

“Stephen, how’s the wife?” I say with a smile as I step into the dark room. The ceiling was impossibly high, with large family portraits on the wall. A single candle lit Stephen’s desk on the opposite end of the room, and between us, there was long fireplace.

“Vvv-ictor, come closer.” came the high hissy voice of Stephen. I gulp and step forward, tripping slightly on a gaudy bear rug.

“Linda said you wanted to see me?” I manage to get out as I step past tall glass containers of petrified tarantulas.

My eyes must have been wide as plates as Stephen began to chuckle his strange whispery snicker.

“S-S-S-SSS, I seeee you’ve noti-s-s-s-ed my collection. What do you think?” came Stephen's voice. Although he was seated, his enormous snake-like head hovered over eight-feet above tbe ground, which forced me to crane my neck in order to meet his slit-shaped glowing yellow eyes.

“Oh, well, it’s a fine collection, Steve. I’m just more of a Dog guy myself.” I laugh it off.

“SSSSSS-S-S-S!” Stephen snickered loudly, his tail rattling somewhere behind his large wooden desk.

“See, that’s what I like about you, Victor! You’re not afraid to sss-speak your mind.”

I let off a sigh of relief as I finally reached the black leather chair for visitors in front of his desk.

“Also, don’t ever call me S-S-Steve, or I'll have you fired before you can sss-say SSS-SAYONARA!”

Stephen raised his three-fingered hand covered in scales and pointed with a large black nail to the seat before his formidable desk.

“Sss-sit” he spoke through his forked tongue.

I sat and found myself in an even more uncomfortable position, forced to look almost straight up to see Stephen’s head bobbing from side to side.

“I’ll get right to the point,” said Stephen, and he reached into the breast pocket of his coat, which was roughly at level with my head.

“Is that what I think it is?” I said in disbelief.

Stephen blinked. There in his hand was a glass vile with a glowing red vapor inside> I immediately recognized, it was a soul. In this modern age of technology, we were trading souls digitally, so it was rare to see a bottled soul in the flesh. Unlike the standard soul case, this one was ornate in every way, with golden designs etched onto the glass and an ornate wooden cap on one end

"Whose is it?"

Stephen pointed back to the large portrait above the fireplace. I turned around to get a better look at it. It was a family of 3 generations of the Jones family, featuring a high school aged of Stephen wearing a tupe, apparently trying to look more human. Behind him stood both his giant snake parents. His father, Stephen Jones the 3rd, with a thin black mustache that must have been drawn on his upper lip, and his mother, whose face was painted with flesh-colored makeup, lipstick and round contact lenses to make her eyes appear more human. However, it had quite the reverse effect making her look like a snake wearing dead skin that hadn’t yet been peeled off.

“Mummy," said Stephen. I gulped as he extended the vile for me to grab.

"I want you to deliver this to deliver this to Morgan & Sss-sons,”

“Our competitors across the road?”

“Preccc-isely, and in return, they’ll have a briefcase for you.”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to run out of the room and not look back, but I couldn't.

“And what should I expect to find in this briefcase."

“You will not need to look in the case, sss-so long as you find this seal on the case unbroken. With his left hand, he sketched what looked like a cross on his notepad, then turned it upside down and pushed it toward me. The hairs on my neck stood straight up, and I stood up from my chair.

“Understood, sir, you can count on me.” I stepped forward to grab the glass-embalmed soul, which pulsed red and pink as I got closer.

“Of course you are.”

I reached for the vile, and just before I could grab it, he pulled it away, forcing my to step forward slightly, almost tripping over his desk. Fast with a whip, Stephen’s head shot down from its high perch until his eyes were just inches away from my own.

“Good luck Victor,” he said with a wink before licking my forhead with his tongue. It was dry and leather, making a rough sound as it passed through my hair.

I gagged but managed to hold it in, slowly turning my back to Stephen and making my way out the door. I stuff the vile into my breast pocket and gasp as I close the office door behind me.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Title: Haunting Hotline

Chapter 1: The Ghost and the Smartphone

The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the dusty blinds of my makeshift office. I groggily reached for my cup of coffee and took a sip, trying to prepare myself mentally for another day of otherworldly tech support. My phone buzzed, and the screen displayed a cryptic number I recognized all too well: 666-1313. My heart skipped a beat, and I answered the call.

"Hello, Haunting Hotline, how may I assist you today?" I said, putting on my most professional tone.

The voice on the other end was hushed and ghostly. "Uh, yes, hello. I'm having some trouble with my smartphone. It keeps glitching, and I can't access my social media accounts. How am I supposed to keep up with my followers?"

I suppressed a groan. This was Lady Annabelle, a ghost from the 1800s who had become obsessed with modern technology – particularly Instagram, where she delighted in sharing her haunting escapades with her surprisingly large following.

Chapter 2: The Vampire and the Dating App

As the day wore on, I received a text message from a regular client, Vlad – an ancient vampire who had recently discovered the world of online dating. As the sun dipped below the horizon, he eagerly prowled dating apps in search of his next meal... or, more often than not, someone to keep him company during the lonely nights.

Vlad: "I can't seem to get any matches. Is there something wrong with my profile?"

Me: "Have you tried uploading a more recent photo? Maybe something taken outside of your coffin?"

Vlad: "Ah, perhaps that's it. How do I change the photo again?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples, and proceeded to guide him through the process of updating his profile.

Chapter 3: The Werewolf and the Fitness Tracker

The full moon was approaching, and my phone rang off the hook as lycanthropes from all over sought my help. One particularly anxious werewolf named Luna wanted to use a fitness tracker to monitor her heart rate and exercise levels during her transformations.

"Listen, Luna, I know you're excited about tracking your progress, but remember that fitness trackers aren't designed for werewolves," I warned her. "The band might not fit when you transform, and even if it does, the data might not be accurate."

Luna huffed in frustration, but reluctantly agreed to heed my advice.

Chapter 4: The Mummy and the GPS

My final call of the day came from an ancient Egyptian mummy, Ramose, who had recently been awakened from his tomb. Despite his impressive age, Ramose was eager to explore the modern world – and that included mastering the art of GPS navigation.

"I'm trying to find the nearest museum," he rasped, his voice dry and brittle, "but the GPS keeps leading me in circles."

After several attempts to troubleshoot the issue, I realized the problem: Ramose was still wrapped in his burial shroud, which was blocking the GPS signal. I gently suggested he remove some of the bandages around his head, and soon enough, he was on his way to the museum, leaving me to wrap up another day of paranormal pandemonium.

Despite the frustrations and dangers of my job, there was never a dull moment at the Haunting Hotline. And as I locked up the office for the night, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. After all, how many people could say they helped ancient supernatural beings adapt to the modern world?

Jack didn't bat an eye as he saw three familiar deities -- Thor, Ishtar, and Persephone -- enter the room. They each had some device with them, and Persephone was dressed in a black dress.

"MORTAL!" boomed the queen of the underworld. "My telephone will not heed my command! How can this be rectified?!"

"Let's have a look," Jack said and held his hand out. Persephone glared at the appendage, but handed the phone over. He pressed the power button, to no avail. "Just to cover all bases, have you tried charging it?"

Persephone looked quizzical. "Of course, ten days ago." Jack's look told her this might be the problem. "I shall attempt to recharge it, but if it fails, you shall suffer an eternity in Tartarus!"

Persephone turned and marched away. Once she'd left, Jack sighed in relief.

"That dude has no chill," Ishtar remarked. "Am I using that right?"

"Yup," Jack affirmed with a smile. "Anyway, would you mind if I ask a question?" They both assented to it. "You three are from different mythologies, right? How does it work that you all exist?"

Thor smiled. "If you only knew how many times I have been asked that. The answer is that we gods are all one family, and that humanity simply misinterpreted the pantheons and groups as separate."

Jack blinked. "Huh... that seems almost too simple to make sense, somehow."

"Perhaps," he said. "For example, Zeus is the uncle to my father Odin and my grand-uncle. Anyway, enough about the divine, back to tech support."

"Right, right," Jack said, quickly getting them sorted. Ishtar needed a routine force-reboot for her phone, while Thor wanted to know what amount of electricity he could use to charge his iPod.

Soon, a man in white formal robes stepped into the room. "Greetings. I am Enma the judge of the dead, appointed servant of Hades and Persephone. I wish for your recommendation regarding purchasing a computer filing system."

Jack again didn't bat an eye. "How does your current filing system work? There are a lot of options to meet different needs."

"Every day, we receive millions of new guests," Enma replied. "As you may imagine, this produces vast amounts of paperwork and personal files to carry around. Which system would you advise?"

Jack smiled, as he voiced his suggestion. The narrator decided to fade out now.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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