Warranty of the Void

Ch 1

Ryan Smith

At least I wasn't late.

I was tired, I was still hung over from my graduation party, I was going through caffeine withdraw, and if it was possible, I was almost certain my tie was tied backwards. But I wasn't late. I waved to the girl at the front desk, went to my cubical, plugged in my head set, and took my first call. So started my first day.

At least I wasn't late.

The rest of the week was the same, minus the headache and scruffy appearance. I took calls, I went through the scripts, I helped people solve their computer issues- though most had their origin between the keyboard and the the chair. I fell into a pattern.

Until that one call.

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Sterling Tech Support. My name is Ryan, how can I help you today?"

"Ah, yes I need to print some contracts, and my printer isn't working." The voice was that of a man, slightly scratchy, but not in an unpleasant way. You pay more attention to these things in my line of work.

"Alright, what has changed since it stopped working?"

"I was printing out some books, and then it ran out of ink, so I refilled the ink, and now it's not working."

"Did you refill the cartridge or replace them?"

"I refilled them."

"Did you buy our refill kit?"

"Yes."

"What ink did you use?"

"Oh, I didn't use ink, I used blood."

My sentence died in my throat.

Did I really just hear what I thought I heard?

I completely forgot what was next in the script.

"I'm sorry sir, can you repeat that?"

"I bought your refill kit, and refilled the cartridges with blood." he paused, "Someone has to bring this stuff into the modern era."

Was I sleep deprived? Yes. Was I that sleep deprived? No.

"Sir, I believe you may have voided the warranty. But I'm going off script to offer some advice, just don't tell my boss. Blood does have some strange properties. I would suggest emptying it and refilling it with blood plus an anticoagulant."

"But won't that dilute it? I don't know if that will still work."

"It's that or hand write it." I heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Alright thank you." then, a bit more distantly, "Kurt, get down here!" Click.

I shook my head and continued working.

A month passed where the worst call was an old lady who deleted her registry file. I forgot that strange prank and bought a video game and chocolates to make myself feel better that no one was buying them for me this February, again. I went to work the next day and picked up my first call.

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Sterling Tech Support. My name is Ryan, how can I help you today?"

"Ah, good, it's you again. You helped me with my printer last time."

"I'm always happy to help sir."

"Good, good, that's very good. Listen, I was summoning a demon through my laptop, and now it won't stop growling."

I recognized that voice. Unfortunately.

"The laptop or the demon?"

"The laptop."

"Sir, I don't believe that you've voided your warranty, but I also don't believe it covers your laptop being possessed by a demon either. I can however recommend an exorcist."

"Good, what's the number?"

"I don't have a number, I'm just recommending you find one."

"Oh, alright. Thank you." and then distantly, "Kurt! What are you-"Click.

I shook my head again, and continued working. It wasn't until next week that things started really happening. I had just forwarded a call to a network specialist, when Jim popped his head over the cubical wall.

"I've got someone on my line asking for you. Can I forward it?"

I finished typing the report into the customers file. "Sure."

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Sterling Tech Support. My name is Ryan, how can I help you today?"

"Hi, a beautiful woman just jumped out of my computer and is offering me one wish, what's that cheat code again?"

"Up, down, Up, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start."

"Really, that's it?"

"No, that's not it. You have to do it in the F octave and the fourth dimension."

"Meh, that's not too hard. Now for the big question, what should I wish for?"

"Why are you asking me? It's your wish. If you really need help, try Alan at extension at three eighty two."

"Awesome, thanks."

"May you lead an interesting life." Click.

Jim raised an eyebrow at me.

"Don't ask. I won't be able to give an answer."

The next day was a similar story, as Amy leaned over the divider.

"Aren't you Mr. Popular. Mind taking one of mine?"

"Put it through." I picked up the line.

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Sterling Tech Support. My name is Ryan, how can I help you today?"

"Hi, My summoning circle isn't working, can you help me trouble shoot it?"

"Did you complete the circle?"

"Ye... No."

"Then finish it and call me back at extension three twenty three."

"Will do." Click

Amy was already back at her own calls. At least she wasn't nosy.

I stood up to make certain no one else was going to pass a call to me and took another one.

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Sterling Tech Support. My name is Ryan, how can I help you today?"

"Ryan, good. I read about you online. My keyboard keeps on rearranging itself into insults and threatening messages. What should I do?" She sounded frantic- wait a moment. That prankster punk wrote about me online?

Deep breath, improvise.

"Are you using a laptop or a desktop?"

"Laptop"

"Did you try to summon a demon through it?"

"Yes, but I-"

"I can recommend an exorcist and give you his number, but I want to know where you heard of me."

"My phone won't let me call anyone."

Deep breath.

"Do you have any holy symbols in the house?"

"No, I'm an atheist."

"You're an atheist that summons demons through your laptop."

"Yeah. Is that bad? Wait, does that make me a satanist?"

"Some might think so, however, I don't think that demonic possession is covered by your warranty. Do you have a pen handy. I hear payphones are notoriously difficult to possess."

"Umm one moment... Oh by the way, the website is , one of the admins wrote about you. Got one! What's the number?"

I relayed the names and numbers of exorcists and their respective faiths of practice.

"Oh, and one last thing. Do payphones accept plastic?"

"No, I don't believe so. Have a nice day mam." Click

When I got to my apartment that evening, I found the web page. It was a typical forum with an atypical topic. Free occult PDFs, focus crystal recommendations, workshop suggestions, the works.

The list of admin created threads was short, so it wasn't much trouble to find "Great Occult Help Number." Eight paragraphs of nothing but my praises. A list of authors who's works I must have memorized, for the multitude of problems this admin had asked help for were so quickly and efficiently solved. And finally it posted my name, company number, and someone else posted my extension. At least I wouldn't have to deal with coworkers criticizing my new fan base. I went back to the main page, took one look at the list of recommended starter books, all free thankfully, and started downloading. Maybe I could build a niche of my own and quit my day job. And maybe I could get someone to buy chocolate for me. Poor attempts at humor aside, I got to studying.

The next day, I was prepared. I advised a man to eat more garlic, and corrected a summoning circle. By the end of the week I was recommending demonic fast food and correcting enchanters on the pronunciation of various languages. Another month passed, and standard tech calls became the exception, not the rule.

It was Friday, another Friday where I had set aside my evening for studying my new found subject. I took what should have been my final call of the day.

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Sterling Tech Support. My name is Ryan, how can I help you today?"

"Hi, I may have started a small scale zombie apocalypse. How do I turn this into a "High School of the Dead"?

"Are you in Japan?"

"Um, no."

"Move to Japan and start one there. The rest should take care of itself."

"Will do." Click. That went faster than I thought.

I had ten minutes until I could clock out, and I had one call waiting on me. Might as well use the time.

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Sterling Tech Support. My name is Ryan, how can I help you today?"

"Ah, hey, it's me again." Yes. This guy. Again. "So My private server is down, and I can't figure out why."

I took a deep breath. "When was the last time it was functional?"

"Umm, right before the laptop connected to it."

"This isn't the laptop you summoned a demon through, is it?"

"We got rid of the demon."

I pinched my nose. "How many people are in the building?"

"Two, including myself."

"You're both idiots. Disconnect it from the internet and anything with internet access immediately. Even if the demon was gone, it would have left something malicious."

"One moment," and then a bit distantly, "Kurt, Disconnect the server! You did? Good." and back to full sound, "I disconnected it. Is there a way to save my server? There's a lot of data on there that's kinda important."

"I don't have the certification for that, and the people who would have already left for the day."

"Can you do it?"

"I don't have the certifications."

"I'm not asking if you have the certifications, I'm asking if you can do it."

I thought for a moment. Data retrieval was simple enough, it was the malicious unknown that might give me trouble. After a moment of internal debate, I came to a decision.

"Where are you, and do you have a computer that you don't mind risking?"

And so I found myself headed out of state for the weekend. It wasn't too long of a drive, and the roads became increasingly scenic and green the farther south I drove. It would have been lovely if it hadn't looked like the sky was about to crack with another spring thunderstorm.

I came at length to a large, old Victorian home. A tall illogical series of mismatched additions with sun bleached bright colors, and and weather stained molding. Some low maintenance plants were starting to flower out front, but it looked like it hadn't seen much care in a while.

What a cliché.

The door opened, and a woman in jeans and a brown button up walked out and approached my car. She was average build and height, with fair skin, blue eyes, and a slightly disheveled auburn twist.

"Ryan, right?"she asked

"Uh, yeah. Were you expecting someone else?" She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Well, you could be the delivery boy, though I don't see any pizza. Unlock the door, I'll show you where to park." I did as she instructed, and she slid into the passenger seat.

Turns out there was a cleverly hidden little road just wide enough for a car to drive around the house and out back. There was a scattering of more modern buildings, and she pointed me to the one that was the garage. We pulled my bags from the trunk and ran to the solarium just as the rain started to fall.

"Sam should be up in a bit, he was just finishing up some notes." She lead me from the solarium to the central hall, where we left my bags, to the dining room, to the kitchen, "But lets put on some tea while we wait. I might be able to rustle up some comfort food too." The kettle was placed on the stove, and she disappeared into the pantry, returning a moment later with a box of teas and a cookie tin. "I'm Tanya by the way."

"Oh, I thought you might be Kurt."She opened the tin and set it down opposite of me on the counter.

"I am. He just doesn't realize that drivers licenses put the last name first."

I stopped mid bite.

"He doesn't get out much, does he?"

She shook her head.

"Almost everything gets delivered, from lab supplies to groceries. But I still need some semblance of civilized society, so I frequent the coffee shops open mike on Thursdays."

"Society is overrated." I turned and saw my host.

He was a tall man with unhealthy pale skin, shaggy dark brown hair, and sported black slacks, a polo and a lab coat.

"Ryan, this is Sam." Kurt pushed the tea box toward me and pulled down some mugs.

"Welcome to Briar Home." he reached forward and shook my hand. "Kurt, is there a guest bedroom ready?"

"I always have the maid keep one up. If there's one thing I've learned about you, it's that you're reliably unpredictable." she set the steaming mugs down in front of us, and pulled a teabag from the box. "Case and point." she motioned to me.

Sam grunted and sipped from his mug, grimaced, then got a tea bag and let it seep. I followed suit and choose the one with the brightest colors.

"The lab is in the basement. I would recommend you not go there, but you have to go through it to get to the server in the sub basement. You can finish your tea, I have to order some books." and with that, he took his mug, and left our company.

Kurt and I made small talk over tea, after that we moved my bags to the guest room, and she gave me a tour of the house, which continued onto the grounds once the rain faded. It included a large garage, a still, a green house, a pool house a garden shed, and a small theater. The garage seemed to be the only one in decent condition, it being Kurt's domain.

But the best thing I saw by far was the main hall. My brief run through of it earlier had denied me a good look. I thought the walls were just wood paneling that was warped from poor keeping. I thought wrong, it was all books, floor to ceiling books on almost any topic, some mundane but many magical as well.

Diner was delivered buffet style, with people grabbing what they wanted on their plate, and going back to whatever they were doing before. This was fine by me, it gave me time to look for some interesting titles. I passed the rest of my evening reading in my room.

I woke up earlier than I usually did on the weekend. I blamed this on the horrible angle of the sun, not being used to the bed, and sharing a house with people I had only just met. There were breakfast foods set out on the kitchen counter, and paper plates set to the side. I grabbed some plastic cutlery from a basket nearby and dug in.

"This stuff's amazing." I was dumping my plate in the trash when Kurt entered.

"Thanks, it's practically the only thing I can make." she piled some bacon on to another plate. "Do you remember where the server is?"

"Basement, last door on the right?" She nodded at me.

"Yup. I'll be in the garage if you get board." And with that, she left the kitchen.

I might as well get started on my task. The server room was small, well lit, and cold- really cold. A single 19 inch rack dominated the center of the room, and a white laptop leaned against the frame with a veritable tangela of cords, cables, and various devices in a box beside it. I selected the appropriate one and got to work.

My first priority was to save the data. The easy solution would be to just pull the data and junk the server. I saw a few thumb drives, but the data on the server amounted to over three terabytes of information. It was unlikely that I could salvage all of it. The preferred option would be to try and delete the... virus, worm, malware... what would the remnants of digital demonic possession be called?

What ever. Step one, identify the problem. I came up with nothing in the applications, but the background processes had some funky stuff going on. I traced the process to its file, but the file stopped existing. Returning to the processes, I found the one I was tracing had disappeared, but another had started that didn't belong. I traced this one again, but the file, yet again, disappeared. I think I found my problem.

I chased the file around as it shifted location by tracing and retracing the process. I knew deleting it wouldn't work, as that would just send it to the recycle bin and it would continue effecting the system. The best thing to do would be to shift it to an isolated location. After a few hours of locating the process and tracing it, I was able to safely transfer it to the laptop, and immediately yanked out the transfer cable. The screen went dark, and sounds of something frothing and screaming emanated through the speakers. I quickly turned down the volume and closed the screen.

"Best destroy this thing." I said passing the laptop to Sam in the basement hall.

I swear I heard him gnawing on it and slamming it against the wall as I walked back up stairs.

Rather than wander about on my own, I decided to take Kurt up on her invitation and visit the garage. There were cars there, as were to be expected, but space for a two more than the three that it currently housed. It had a vehicle list as well as an open area for a general machine shop. I found her under the lift, working on another car currently above her.

"Well this may not be the best place for that," she said motioning to the book in my hand, "but I'll keep the noise down for the sake of company." She wiped the machine oil on to her jeans, moved to a work bench, pulled a box down from a shelf, and began working on the small mechanical device inside. I didn't get a good look at it, but it looked more complex than I cared for.

We didn't talk for a few hours until her phone beeped.

"Diner must be here."she said, putting away her tools, "Would you help me bring it in?"

"You really do get everything delivered, don't you?"

"Actually, it's just some immigrant family that thinks this place is haunted and leaves food for the ghosts."

I closed my book. "Really?"

"Really really. I mean there are ghosts, but they prefer sweets and the family provides meat and veggie dishes along with the deserts. We made an arrangement with the ghosts so that it wouldn't go to waste."

I followed her outside, where Sam was digging a hole for the infected laptop, and went to the front of the building.

"By the way, how does your phone get signal out here?"

"It's powered by a soul cell. Increased reception is just one of the more pleasant side affects."

What?

"You put a soul in your cellphone battery?"I really should just start expecting this stuff.

"You think the fish tanks are just for display?

"You use fish?"

"Sometimes." she elaborated, "Cellphones are simple enough that you can just use a sea monkey."

"Wouldn't mice get more charge?" she wrinkled her nose at me.

"Mice smell bad. With fish, the smell is limited to the water tank, which can easily be covered."

I guess she had a point.

"What are the other side affects."

"Internet is faster, memory is more efficient, and I estimate the battery won't die for another few centuries. Oh, and it's waterproof and shock proof now. You want an upgrade on yours?"

Did she really just offer to bind a soul to my cellphone?

"I'd love it."

Sure enough, there was a large box with some incredible savory aromas. Kurt shoved this box into my arms, and lifted the smaller one herself.

"Can you take that into the kitchen?" she set her box down in the dining room, pulled some china and cutlery from the curio, and began slicing the cake for some of the specters already seated.

I continued to the kitchen, and gave Kurt my phone. The rest of the evening went off as the last one, and I fell asleep with a book on my chest.

I woke up relatively early again the next morning, as it was a long drive home. Sam cut me a check for substantially more than I expected(I saw a shopping spree on the horizon), Kurt returned my phone, and I was on my way. In my mind, Briar Home was a lovely vacation spot. Lovely place, fascinating local culture, but not a place I would want to stay long term. In fact, I hoped to never return there. Funny thing about hopes.

Less than a month later, I had just gotten home and my cellphone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ryan, it's Kurt." She sounded different over the phone.

"Oh, I'm not used to you calling."

"Well, I tend to be a bit more coherent than Sam- "

"What do you need?"

"I can't call my only only sane friend, and sole human link to the outside world just to talk?"

"You're an industrious young woman. You wouldn't call just to talk." An audible sigh came over the line.

"Strait to the point then. One of Sams uncles just died and left him a collection, probably a substantial one. We need help organizing it, integrating it or just plum figuring out what some of this stuff is. Would you be interested in visiting again."

I thought out my weekend as currently planed. Plans, what plans? The closest thing I had to a social life outside of work was an online D&D group. Today was Thursday. I could pack a bag for the weekend this evening, and leave strait from work. And as much as I dreaded the place, I did learn a lot last time.

"When are you expecting this collection?"

"Friday afternoon is when we're expecting the first shipment. Can you be there?"

"I get off work by five, the earliest you can expect me would be seven."

"I can work with that. I'll see you then."

"See ya." Click.

I let my phone rest beside me. Without further ado, I repacked my old school bag and ran through some forums until I had to sleep. Work and the following drive passed quickly, and I was at Briar Home before I knew it. The house was almost completely unchanged save for the crates in front. And did they get a new door? I might have to ask about that.

Kurt ran out the door to greet me again, and jumped into the car. After I parked, she handed me a fanny pack- and a holster and a pistol.

"You know how to use one of these, right?"

I looked it over.

"In theory."

"This is the safety." she pointed to a switch on the side, "When it shows red, it's ready to fire. These are the sights, you want this one," she pointed to the small one on the edge of the barrel, "be between these ones," she pointed to the ones closer to the grip, "and whatever your shooting at. This is the mag ejection clip." she pointed to a button on the other side, "Pull back the slider after you reload. Extra clips are in the pack, but the clips are enchanted to hold forty rounds. You'll have bigger problems if you need to. Keep the pack front facing, the holster goes on your belt, and don't lock your arms." She grabbed my shoulders. "No one goes anywhere alone, and keep your cellphone on you. Got it?"

I holstered the pistol, "Does this have anything to do with the new door?"

"A bit." she shrugged, "We conducted a perfect summoning, but drew an imperfect binding ring. If you see a kitten made of rainbow marshmallows, shoot to kill. However, our main concern is the shipment. There could be any number of things in those crates."

We had walked back to the front by that time, and I got a good look at some of the items not in crates.

"What's with the payphone?" I motioned to the red payphone box.

"Hm? Oh, Payphones are notoriously difficult to possess- older ones especially, something to do with the lack of computer chips. That's why none of the cars we use are younger than 1970." she nodded to the old Volkswagen Microbus. "Sid did a lot of pioneering research in the technoccult area, he's also the one who developed soul cells."

Sam took this moment to exit the door, cooler behind him.

"We're taking breaks every half hour for hydration purposes."

For the next few hours, we moved crates into the back of the van, drove it to the back, and unloaded it into the theater, stopping about every other trip for a water bottle. I don't recall the exact hour, but it was still mid morning.

We were having a bit more trouble with one particular crate, it being larger than the others. We had almost gotten it in when someone's hand slipped. The crate slammed onto the edge of the bed, and then it started clicking. Things went dark then. The only thing I saw was a faceless figure, but I got the distinct impression it was smiling.

AN: I feel like notes before the story destroy the flow, so I'll be adding them down here. Let's get the basics out of the way.

Disclaimer: I own only my own characters. Everything else belongs to Wizards of the Coast.

Thanks: Kitty for inviting me to help him study, Matt for being his crazy self and joining, and Louis for editing.

I do not in any way encourage anything in this story. It is the twisted product of several twisted minds.

How long this goes on depends on it's reception. Reviews are the cream and sugar in my tea. Flames will be used to boil the water.