Anniversary Email 52

Please join me in congratulating<NAME> on nine years with <COMPANY>! Thank you for all that you do for the <REDACTED> team! Thank you and beware. Beware the terrible curse of the 9th year, a curse born in the mists of legend. It is said this office was built on the site of an ancient village. A village in which dwelled 9 diabolical witches. None can say what happened with any certainty that grim February day, only that when the next caravan of traders arrived to ply their wares, they found nine graves for those condemned of vile sorcery and an empty town which their animals refused to enter. That night they heard strange and terrifying sounds from the abandoned buildings, and all they found in their search of the area were strange charms made of bone and hide. Charms that resembled a nine pointed star that blazed brightly in the night sky. The village was condemned and left to rot, no one brave enough to tempt the fates by reclaiming the site until history obscured the blood dimmed past.

Over the years many dark and terrible deeds have been attributed to this curse. Every ninth server comes installed with never before seen vulnerabilities. Every ninth employee is overcome with madness and relegated to the lightless basement, from which their incomprehensible screaming will never be heard beyond the cold iron bars confining them and the runes of warding carved into the concrete. Every ninth cup of coffee tastes kind of off. Not like… rancid or anything where you would refuse to drink it, just disappointing in a vague sort of way. Like you thought it would be better than it was. I mean, you still drink it, but you kind of wish you had poured it out instead and made another one. But then you’d feel wasteful. You can’t win in that situation.

I cannot predict with any degree of certainty what might occur to you as a consequence of your anniversary. Will the witch cult return to haunt you with dreams of their violent ends, driving you to the depths of insanity? Will you disappear to whatever nightmarish place the rest of the village was cast, their spirits lost to this world? Will you be forever cursed to drink unsatisfying beverages? Never really experiencing satisfaction from your drink of choice, just a general malaise. Who wants to live like that? No one, that is who. I think I would rather have my soul ripped apart in the bladed winds of torment in the plane of eternal fire. At least then I would have the hope of a nice cuppa.

Congratulations again. Congratulations and doom. DOOM.

 

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