Definitely Some Kind Of Karma

Written for Bradley Ramsey’s “Flash Fiction February Day 15”.

I wish I knew what I’d done in my previous life to get stuck with this. Is being a Warden supposed to be a reward or a punishment or what? Management never tell us anything. You’d think that, if keeping The Exiled Ones at bay is vital to the continued existence of everything, you’d only want the best, right? But on the other hand, if you’re going to throw a quasi-mortal at a problem like this, maybe it’s best to go bulk and expendable.
Well-worn thoughts which race through my mind every time my computer beeps. Signalling another assignment.
A poke brings the screen to life, displaying the usual solid wall of text interspersed with grainy images. The fact all our missives are in Times New Roman makes me lean towards this being some sick cosmic punishment.
Let’s see…
Blah blah blah sightings of strange creatures blah blah Earth #11722. Ugh, they’re sending me to another Series 117 Earth? What obscure, nightmare diseases will I need to get jabbed for this time?
I set the “Alternative Self” database running and click through to the “Health Warnings” page of the dispatch. Tetanus… rabies… do do doo... ok, most of these are the same as last time. I just need coverage for “measles”. What’s a measle, and how many of them do I have to worry about catching? Do they each do different things to you, or what? Might ask the docs while I’m there.
A ping. Database search done. Yes, I have an alternate self in #11722. Or rather, I had one - apparently they died a few years ago during a waterskiing accident. While fleeing international law enforcement. Suspected of drug smuggling, tax evasion in six countries, and attempting to topple a democratic African government.
While the eclectic, uh, ‘personal flaws’ recorded on my alternate selves are too varied for me to say I’ve noticed a pattern, per say, every time I read one of these database files it adds to my sinking suspicion that I’m trapped in some kind of existential community service.
Setting that aside, I pick a medical appointment and check the packing list. Hm, apparently ‘Appalachia’ is quite chilly this time of year. Oh, yeah, the map shows mountains. Well, I do like hiking. I’d just prefer not to be having to avoid locals and track down probably dangerous entities acting as harbingers of the asshats beyond the veil.
Alright, standard cold-weather and mountaineering kits… Lots of ground to cover, so I’d best take an enchanted airline ticket. Hopefully the disorientation won’t matter much in the middle of nowhere… unless I manage to land on one of these things. Or a mundane creature, I suppose. Does #11722 have bears?
“Wildlife of Note” list says yes. Great. I put “pls add bear spray” on the kit request.
Back to the briefing. Blah blah, “based on varied appearance in locally captured photographs we suspect the creatures are either shapeshifters or using illusions to confuse and frighten people”. So I’ll need the monocle. And once I get there I’ll make sure to pick up a bag of dust or flour or something for a backup during the fifty minutes the damn thing takes to recharge.
Speaking of recharging… I’d best take my cell phone too. Out in the middle of nowhere like that it’s the only way to guarantee being able to call for help. I just wish I knew why every time I take it out of headquarters - every time! - no matter what job I’m on or which universe I’m dispatched to, its battery sheds like a husky in the Sahara until critical power mode kicks in at 10%.
The good news is, it can be recharged. The bad news is, anything less than a full recharge does nothing… and a full recharge will quickly decay back to 10%.
Still better than trying to put together a functional Fax Ritual with only one working arm.
Alright. Gear request sent… med appointment’s in forty minutes… better shower, pack my personal stuff, and get creature hunting.
I scribble on a sticky note and slap it in the middle of the laptop screen. “Make sure to remember toothbrush this time!”
Hope you’re ready, measle-world, ‘cause here I come.

Prompt was “You are a Warden. A reincarnated soul tasked with protecting the multiverse from ancient gods known as The Exiled Ones. You’ve been dispatched to Earth in Universe #11722 to investigate sightings of strange creatures in the Appalachian Mountains.”