Afterlife Opportunities

She wasn’t happy about it, but she’d been recalled to life for a reason. Janet looked up, blinked, and frowned. Still frowning, she sat up and looked around. This was not where she expected to be. And why was she alone? Where was the necromancer, or at the very least his acolytes? This was totally unacceptable.

This was not what she’d signed up for.

The recruiter for Afterlife Opportunities had assured her of a one year minimum stay in the afterlife before she’d be called back to receive an assignment. It had only been six weeks, at most. She’d barely had time to acclimatize herself to being dead before she felt the tug of the summons back.

“Slipshod business if you ask me,” she muttered, getting up and dusting herself off.

The Awakening Rooms in the brochure had been bright and airy, with billowy white curtains wafting in a gentle breeze and clean white sheets on the beds. This room was dingy and dark, like something you’d find in a third rate hotel. And it smelled.

She’d been told trained professionals would oversee every step of her re-animation, and more trained staff would be available to answer any questions she might have. Afterlife Opportunities employed only the best of necromancers and acolytes.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Obviously that one was a lie too.

Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to brush the graveyard dirt completely from her clothes. The same clothes she’d been buried in, she realized, lips tightening. Where was her pristine Awakening Robe? Where was the luxurious soaker tub filled with scented water to wash away the afterlife?

Janet gave up trying to brush her clothing clean and started for the door.

“Somebody better have a good explanation,” she muttered.

The door opened onto a long hallway dotted with many other doors. It really did seem like she was in some kind of run down hotel. She considered knocking on one of the other doors but decided her best bet would probably be to go down to the lobby. There had to at least be a reception desk down there.

After eyeing the decrepit looking elevator, Janet opted to take the stairs. Fortunately she was only on the third floor, but she grew more and more annoyed with every step she took.

The lobby was as run down as the rest of the place, but at least there were people.

“Excuse me,” Janet said trying to get the attention of a bellhop. “I wonder if—”

“Lemme guess,” the bellhop said wearily. “You got questions. Well lady, I don’t got any answers, I just work here. You want to ask questions, you gotta go to the desk.”

Janet looked toward where he was pointing and saw the rather long line snaking away from the reception desk. With a sigh of resignation, she went over and queued up. It was the slowest moving line in the history of lines, but at last Janet reached the desk.

“Do you work for Afterlife Opportunities?” Janet as the young man seated at the desk. Then she went on before he could answer, “I’d like to lodge a formal complaint.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “I only do the checking in and checking out. If you want to lodge a complaint you have to go over to that line over there.”

Janet looked to where he pointed. The line was easily three times longer than the one she’d just been in.

“Just kill me now,” she muttered.

“I believe that’s already been done. Next.”