Bob in the Castle

[u/ghostgabe81]

“Bob,” I called, letting my impatience show in my voice.

A blue streak of light suddenly appeared on the white paint of the concrete wall. It swept around the room to the old shelf where an ancient human skull rested, nestled among a pile of paperback romances. The skull’s eye sockets kindled to life with glowing red-gold embers a moment later, and it burbled, “You have but to call and I am here!”

“I noticed.” I sighed. The spirit of intellect that lived in the skull was an old friend and confidant, or at least a mostly faithful assistant. When I had moved into the castle, it had become clear that the building had been constructed with a great many magical systems built into it—but it had to have a spirit to run it, a genius constructi, if you will. Bob had taken to the place as gleefully as a fourteen-year-old who’d been given the keys to a monster truck. He could inhabit the stones of the castle as easily as he could his own skull, and he’d been positively bouncy ever since.

“Look, I know you get satellite and radio and television signals now,” I began.

“And internet!” Bob burbled. “Do you wanna watch Lord of the Rings again?”

“You’re never going to convince me that Arwen was actually wearing lingerie the whole film,” I said soberly. “You edited.”

“Well,” Bob said sullenly. “Just be glad it wasn’t Gimli.”

Twelve Months Chapter 4