Patreon Payment Issues...Flash Fiction! (Patreon)

Mike woke with a start, the Dreamscape slipping away from his consciousness like silken bedsheets. He sat up, careful not to jostle Tink or Kisa. The two of them had made a man sandwich out of him again, but he was able to slide down the bed without waking them.

He had a strange feeling that something was wrong, but couldn't figure out what. Had he heard something that had pierced his consciousness, pulling him back to the waking world? The house was quiet, creaking occasionally as magic homes did.

Stretching, his back and shoulders popped. Still unsettled, he silently moved toward the bedroom door and stepped outside. The hallway was dimly lit by moonlight, and he surveyed the foyer from above. If someone was outside, either Abella or Cecilia would have alerted him. During his scan, he spotted a dark mass above his bedroom door. It was Grace, curled up in a ball and clutching Jenny to her chest as she sucked her thumb. It was clear his daughter had been planning to ambush him in the morning.

He held a finger to his lips as he looked at Jenny. "I'll still act surprised," he mouthed. Jenny didn't respond, but he felt her approval like a chill down his spine. Her nonverbal communication had improved since Grace had taken her in, which he appreciated. A chill down his spine was far better than pants-wetting terror.

Downstairs, he heard someone muttering. Mike made his way down the stairs, careful to step over the ones that he knew would creak. A faint light was on in the office, and when he looked inside, he saw Death muttering in front of a laptop.

"Hey, buddy." Mike moved to sit across from his friend in a leather chair. "Everything okay?"

Death looked up at him, the fire in his sockets blazing red. "No, Mike Radley, everything is not okay. Frankly, I am quite aggravated."

"What's going on?" Suddenly concerned, Mike rose and moved to see what was on Death's screen. It was just a simple Chromebook that Mike had found him, Death primarily used it for  typing out his memoirs. He had actually read some of the Reaper's early stuff, but it had been too grim for his tastes.

"I cannot seem to resubscribe to my favorite Patreon Creator." Death held up a black credit card. "They keep telling me that there's a payment issue and that I need to contact my bank. However, I do not want to contact my bank. I should not have to contact my bank. I do not want to go through all this extra effort because somebody on their end has made a mistake."

Mike frowned. "Okay, well, let's talk about a few things here. The first being that it stinks that you have to go through all this extra effort. You can't really call your bank in the middle of the night."

"I cannot, Mike Radley. Oh, I have been very rude." Death gestured to a pot sitting on the desk. "Would you like some chamomile?"

"I'm good, will probably go back to sleep later. I just want to remind you that companies screw up sometimes and that if you give it a couple of days, it might be easier to see positive results."

"I see." Death leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I guess I shall give it another day or so. I am just worried that my Patreon creator will be disheartened, because I can already see their pledges have dropped over four hundred dollars."

"That sounds rough." Mike cleared his throat. "Out of curiosity, um, who are you pledging money to?"

Death grinned. "I found someone on the internet who draws maps, Mike Radley! Beautiful, wonderful maps that I can download and look at anytime I want. Can you imagine such a thing? A world you have never been to before? I find the premise fascinating."

"Where did you get a credit card?"

"Tinker helped me. She said I needed a higher credit score."

"Why? Are you planning to buy something big later?" Mike made a mental note to ask Tink where the money for Death's card had come from.

Death shrugged. "Perhaps. One cannot predict the future, after all." He put his hand on the laptop and folded it shut. "Perhaps I shall find something else to do until I can subscribe once more."

"That sounds like a good idea." Mike rose from his seat and started toward the door. "Besides, even if you forget to do it, it's just a few bucks, it's not that big a deal."

"On the contrary, Mike Radley, I am their number one supporter. They will absolutely notice my absence."

Mike spun on the balls of his feet. "Exactly how much were you pledging?"

"Four hundred and twenty dollars, along with sixty-nine cents." Death drummed his fingers anxiously on the desk. "Tink assured me that was the best possible number."

"I see." Mike sighed. "Well, it sounds like you should definitely remember to keep trying. Kind of like I'll remember to speak with Tink about her own personal credit score."

"Indeed." Death took a sip from his tea. "I should let you know that Tink figured this day would come and has asked to inform you that you should, pardon my latin, take it out on her ass."

"That isn't latin." Mike waved to Death, his magic uncoiling like a snake in his belly. When he got back upstairs, he would see if Kisa wanted to help punish the goblin. "Goodnight, buddy."

"Goodnight Mike Radley. I thank you for your advice."

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If you aren't already aware, Patreon is having massive payment issues right now. Have I lost over four hundred dollars in pledges since last month? Yep! Am I worried? Not really. So if you're getting frustrated, please wait a few more days and try to come back later. I'll still be here.