LogFAQs > #905733256

You are awake. You find yourself in total darkness, unable to open your eyes. You try to shout for help, but with your mouth glued shut too, all you can manage is a muffled, "Hhhmmmnngggg." This isn't heaven anymore.

"What a pickle," you think to yourself. You're surprised how calm you are about this. Having your eyes and mouth glued shut sounds like a nightmare, but for some reason it's okay. It's no heaven by any stretch of the imagination, but hey let's just see where this goes.

You hear fanatical yips and cheers from up above you. "Yes! Yes! Yeeeeeees! I did it, IdiditIdiditIdidt!"

Awww, he sounds so excited. You really wish you could see how elated he is. You try to force your eyes as hard as you can, eventually feeling some of your skin peel away from the tops of your eyelids as your sight finally returns. Huh, you expected the skin ripping to hurt, but it didn't. Nothing hurts. You take a peek at your surroundings. You're in an open box in a hole. It's a nice box though. Decent hole too. You wish you learned more about woodworking while you were alive so you could identify what kind of wood your coffin was made of. You didn't learn anything about wood while you were in heaven either, but you did learn about holes a little bit. This is a... this hole is a... Hm. The whole hole lesson seems to have slipped your mind. You look up and see a figure in black robes jumping from one foot to the other pointing his fingers to the sky.

As the skin tears from your lips, you call out, "What kind of hole is this?"
"Ahhh!" the startled necromancer jumps in place then turns down to look at you. "Ex-excuse me?"
"This hole that I'm in. What's it called?" you clarify.
"It's... uh... a grave," he answers.
Oh, that was it. A grave! "Thanks."
The necromancer seems a little caught off guard by your opening remarks, but takes a quick breath and composes himself. "Hello! I am your new m-"
"Hi," you greet him back.
"...I am your new master!" he continues. "And I need you to-"
"How long have I been dead for?" you ask him.
The necromancer exhales in frustration, but tries not to show it. "Like a month and a half or so."
"Wow, the embalmers did a pretty good job on me, huh? I'm not nearly as decayed as I thought I would be," you admire your hands, which have only shriveled an inch or so. Your hands are really all you can see of your body, since the rest of you is dressed in a fine three piece suit. "Where'd they get this suit? This ain't my suit. I ain't never wore a suit this nice in my entire life."
"Men's Wearhouse, maybe? Hell if I know," he replies.
"Why would they buy this for me if they were just gonna bury it after? Shoulda buried me in my bathing suit and saved four hundred bucks," you protest your family's decisions to the necromancer.
"Silence!" he shouts at you. "You will speak when you are spoken to."
You shift awkwardly in your coffin and look around the perimeter of the grave. "Were you not talking to me this whole time? Is there someone else here?"
"No, I was talking to you, but.. like," the necromancer thinks for a moment. "You are only to speak when I allow it."
"That's not how friendship works," you argue.
"We are not friends, slave! I am your master and you are my servant!" he bellows.
"Did you just call me slave?" you ask incredulously. "My name's literally right on the headstone. Digging up this hole must have taken a while, you must have looked at the headstone at least once."
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.