For a moment the Skeleton lay in its box, splayed out like how they had found it. Bobby found himself holding his breath as he hoped the efforts of the last few hours hadn’t been for nothing. Then there was a slight vibration that went through the bones and the skeleton bolted upright, some of its bones clinking together like one of those wooden wind chimes.

  It felt its boney face with its skeletal digits and then looked down at its fleshless hands. For a moment it tried speaking, but Bobby hadn’t added vocal chords or even the ability to breathe, which in hindsight might have been a good idea because the skeleton that had once been called Michaela Rabbitston went into a very large and very obvious panic attack.

  A flailing limb clubbed Bobby in the face and he went down with the sucker punch. “OWWOW, MY EYE.” Mcgunkin stared at the scene with something akin to amusement as the chaos unfolded.

  The Skeleton looked down in confusion at the cowering Bobby, cradling an eye socket. It opened its mouth as if to apologise, but the realisation that it couldn’t speak seemed to set it off again. Bobby moved to a slightly safer distance and called out: “It’s okay Michaela, at least you can still blink.”

  The skeleton calmed down slightly and sat there hugging its knees, its body language looking quite perplexed as it realised it could indeed still blink the magical eye constructs that sat in its empty looking eye sockets.

  After a few minutes Michaela seemed to regain composure, and stood up, then a different type of panic overcame the Skeleton, as it realised it was nude, in the most literal way possible and tried to cover up its non-existent private parts with partly see-through limbs.

  Bobby sighed and relinquished his slightly grubby smart new blazer, which fitted the skeleton like a dress, considering that it had no flesh, so it was both shorter than the average human and everything hung low because it had the body shape of a coat hanger. Next he asked Mcgunkin to gather all of the stuff they had brought over to dig up the grave and gestured for the Skeleton to follow him to the van. Now, how should I prank Gary?

  They found Gary sleeping in the Hammock, they also found fluff staring at a torn corner of its kibble bag, kibbles spread across the floor. “Bad Fluff” Bobby told the creature, and made it go and sit in its box bed. Then he pointed at the Skeleton and pointed at Gary.

  Michaela looked confused and then shrugged, went over to the hammock and turned it inside out, spilling a yelling Gary onto the floor. Gary looked around wildly for the perpetrator as Bobby laughed hysterically as the man’s expression got a bit complex when he saw the Skeleton.

  “Woah,” all irritation left his face as he turned to Bobby, “You succeeded?”

  He stared intensely at the Skeleton, “Can you speak?”, he asked.

  The Skeleton shook its head, then Gary surprised Bobby by waving his hand together and making a complicated series of gestures. The Skeleton cocked its head as it watched his hands, then made back somewhat similar gestures.

  “You can use sign language?” Bobby asked Gary.

  “Yeah, my Ex-Girlfriend taught it to me.” The man replied as he made another gesture to the skeleton.

  “Was she deaf or something?”

  “Nah, just cool.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Bobby nodded and then curiously turned to the Skeleton, “What are you saying to her?”

  “I’m apologising at the crude manner with which she was reawakened.”

  Bobby opened his mouth and then thought better of what he was about to say. “That’s fair.”

  Michaela’s hands seemed to blur as she signed something back inconceivably fast, Bobby watched the bones, slightly proud that they were working so well. “What’s she saying?”

  “She’s saying she wants to dislike you for the inconceivably unpleasant experience she just had, but it’s slightly better than being dead and something about you is making it impossible for her to hate you, in fact she’s very confused why she’s becoming almost infatuated with you.”

  The Skeleton reached forward and slapped Gary.

  “Oww, what was that for?”

  The skeleton gestured again and Gary continued translating. “Some things don’t need to be said out loud…” he trailed off.

  Bobby chuckled and turned to face the skeleton. “Terribly sorry, you see I seem to have found myself in the unlikely profession of necromancer, and due to the fact that you are currently operating entirely on my own magic, it’s quite possible that your very body is trying to push you to see me as a master and make you obey me.”

  The Skeleton seemed to consider his words, and then it asked a question through Gary. “Do I need to be recharged, and how often?”

  “I’m not sure, I’ve never created an undead Skeleton before, it would be quite helpful if you tell me when you are getting tired or sluggish yourself, that result will probably dictate the number of people I can currently keep resurrected, although I think It’s possible for me to raise that number by getting stronger.

  [Regeneration 10 → 11]

  A notification popped up, making Bobby recall that speaking of the devil saying. Bobby called up his status to check on it.

  He had regenerated one magic since the resurrection, about five minutes ago, which had used all his reserves, meaning that he could regenerate about one level per hour, which seemed inline with what his regeneration value said on his Status.

  Bobby guessed that like perception and dexterity, regeneration seemed to increase with usage. He pondered the last two attributes that he didn’t seem to have increased yet; it was possible that he would have to actively figure out how to increase them on his own. An idea began forming in his head about the first one, perhaps he could try and force more magic into his storage, or core as the system seemed to have once referred to it.

  He decided to experiment with that later when his ponderings were interrupted by the return of Mcgunkin, his arms full of equipment that he dumped into the wheelie bin, somehow the thralls 3 piece suit was still immaculately clean, Bobby tried to make sense of how he had managed that while digging when his own suit had begun to look rather rattish.

  Gary spoke up, “What now Bobby?”

  Bobby yawned and rubbed at his still slightly stinging eye, “I’m pretty tired myself, I think we should find somewhere to turn in for the night.” He may not have been able to see the sky, but his body clock was telling him that it was very much almost time for sleeping.

  +++++

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