Otel Entra And The Stupid Hat

rating: +16+x

The village of Necropolis was more alive at night, which gave Flit the creeps.

“Why is there so much noise outside? Why…oh my gosh.”

They looked over at Otel, who was snug in the blanket Junie had given him. He had it pulled over his face. The two were sleeping in Junie and Roald’s small living room, as they didn’t have a spare bedroom. Otel also insisted on sleeping there, since he wanted to be polite.

But right now, all Flit could focus on was the unnerving Lich groans and chatter echoing through Necropolis, also known as the Lich village.

The village didn’t abide by many rules, since Liches could sleep whenever or never. Many came out at night, under the assumption that zombies usually awaken during the nighttime. Because of this, and the cramped terraced houses on the edge of the ribbon streets, there was a lot of commotion.

The only light illuminating the room was a small candle inside a lamp. Flit didn’t have good vision, but their hearing was excellent. They could hear Otel’s quiet snoring, the buzz from little flies that got into the house, breathing outside the door, and a small clock ticking on the mantle.

Wait, what?

Flit shot up. They were immediately on high alert, ready to fight or flee if necessary. There was breathing outside the front door, and Flit remembered the kitchen is at the back to the right. Junie and Roald are upstairs, how can I get to them? Otel is behind me. We’re closest to the door, so I should-

Knock.

Flit jumped. They couldn’t see any exits. Should they check who’s there?

Knock.

Surely the thing couldn’t see in the dark as well, but you can never be sure in this world, I mean-

Knock.

“I’m coming!”

Flit heard Junie’s voice call down from upstairs, and her footsteps hurrying down the steps. They grabbed the lamp to stop her in the hallway, a last resort to save her from the creature lurking outside, but she was already at the front door.

Junie!” Flit whispered, “Get back!”

Junie opened the door.

“AH! Thank you!” She took something from a large, brooding figure outside.

Flit turned and bumped into her in the hallway, before jumping into a defensive stance.

“Oh, Flit! I was just getting the usual from the milkman.”

They sighed. So they were just overreacting… Flit shook their head and relaxed. There was nothing to worry about.

“Are you okay? I know Survs like to sleep at night. WHAT’S KEEPING YOU?” Junie said, holding up a milk bottle.

“Yeah, it’s just pretty noisy.”

Flit didn’t want to admit that they’re uselessly afraid of the dark. They were an idiot, letting such a childish fear control them like that. But Flit felt it was more so instinct, albeit a paranoid and faulty instinct, that kept them alive for this long.

“Sit down, then. I’ll make some actual tea.” Junie said, taking Flit’s lamp and leading them to the kitchen. Flit felt for a chair to sit down in, slowly scooting the seat closer and delicately relaxing into it.

“SORRY ABOUT THE NOISE OUTSIDE,” Junie yelled, then put her finger to her mouth. “Woops, so how are you liking Necropolis so far?”

“It’s definitely a village that, uh, exists. It is certainly a place to live in.” Flit said, combing through their brain to find something remarkable about the village they’d spent one whole day in. “Actually, is it true that…”

Junie leaned in, curious.

“Do Prometheans actually eat muscle and…blood?”

“No! Did you tell Otel that?!” She said, furrowing her brows and folding her arms. Flit felt like they were being scolded by a mother. They twiddled their thumbs.

“Yeees…”

“Don’t be doing that! Things are different now. You can’t be telling someone fresh out of the dirt stereotypes about others!

Flit pursed their lips. “Okaaayy…”

Junie sighed, sitting down and crossing her legs. Her skeletal leg rested on top. “It’s even worse with Liches. When you have no reference from your past or anything, you just believe anything at face value… It’s an innocence some admire, I guess.” Junie rested her head on her empty hand. She had an air of melancholy around her when she was quiet.

“So- I should be nicer?” Flit asked, confused as to where the conversation should go.

“Well, just don’t be a dick. That’s rule number one of Necropolis, but I assume it’s the same everywhere else.”

The started having idle chats, going well into the night. Flit enjoyed a break from the routine chaos, and Junie was glad to share any stories she had.

Stories, thought Junie, brought people together in many ways. They can educate and teach a lesson, or make others laugh, gasp, and maybe remember a little part of themselves. Stories are sometimes less about the story and more about the connection to others while you tell it.

After a while, Flit passed out in their chair. Junie waved her hand, and it started to glow. She flicked it at Flit, who began to levitate. She led them back to the sitting room, gently placed them on the couch. They rolled over, burying their face in their arms.


They awoke to shouting at the front door.

“I DO NOT KNOW WHERE YOUR HAT IS, BOY! LEAVE, TAKE YOUR ATROCIOUS SUIT WITH YOU!”

Roald was arguing with a stranger outside. Flit rubbed their eyes, wandering out to investigate. What they saw stopped them in their tracks.

“My suit is NOT atrocious, thank you very much! If you WANT to fight me, find your better half first!” The stranger arguing with Roald was Siamese, dawning a deep frown on his face.

“Oh, wait. WHICH HALF?” He cackled, gesturing towards Roald’s skeletal left side. Roald was fuming.

“You are a VERY disrespectful young ma-” Roald noticed Flit, who was peeking around the doorframe, “HEY! You, come here!”

Siamese gasped. “Look who it is! I thought I recognised that bucket of bolts outside!”

“That was uncalled for, Siamese. What, Civ pulled your tail?” Flit spat, walking towards him. This cat hasn’t even spent a day in Necropolis and he’s already being a dick. Roald didn’t deserve that.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing much.” Flit punched him across the face. Siamese stumbled back, pinching his nose.

“You fly!” He snarled, wiping his face. Dropping low, he ran towards Flit, tackling them. The two flew wild punches, dragging each other around on the ground.

“Go on, get ‘em! Get ‘em!” Roald laughed. He didn’t notice Junie standing behind him.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!” Junie shrieked. Flit looked up at her while holding the nemesis Siamese down by the wrists.

“I’m looking for my damn hat!” he said, gritting his teeth. “Get off me, whiskers!”

Junie ignored his struggling. “And what does this hat look like?”

“A skeleton told me some gruel that was wearing my hat came here! It’s white and purple!” Siamese glanced at the open door, “Where is he?!”

“Ahhh, my boyo! That hat of his is so lovely. I don’t think it’s yours, it wouldn’t match your ugly suit.” Roald exclaimed, fixing his monocle.

“It’s the same colou-nevermind…” He sighed, finally relaxing. Flit let go of his arms, but still wouldn’t let him stand up.

“Uh…It is Siamese’s hat. Otel took it, um…” They scratched their head, “He should be inside, I mean…”

“Where’s all that energy gone, Flum? Cat got your tongue?” Siamese chuckled.

Flit poked him in the eye. “Ow!”

“It was only a joke, he’ll give it back so we can keep the peace for once.” Flit said, leaning in, “But you don’t say shit about this man or Otel again, got it?”

Siamese put his hands up. “Neh neh neh neh, that’s what you sound like.”

“I’ll go get Otel. He might still be asleep,” Junie said, hurrying inside. The three, with two still on the ground, waited patiently for Otel to come out.

“UM, JUST ONE PROBLEM!” Junie yelled from the living room.

Flit cocked their head, “What, what is it?”

“OTEL ISN’T HERE RIGHT NOW.”


“What’dya mean he’s not here right now?” Siamese said, a large scowl forming on his face.

“He’s just not there!” Roald explained. “You see, when someone leaves to go somewhere else…”

“Yeah, I know. As much as I hate the corpse boy, I want my hat back.”

“Well, he’ll probably come back on his own, this is an enclosed village.” Flit reasoned, bottling a slight sense of panic rising deep below them.

“YOU are going to help me look.” Siamese sat up and pointed at them.

“Yeah let’s go.” Flit quickly replied, “I don’t like you but let’s go.”

Flit and Siamese wandered through the branching streets of Necropolis, scanning the village for any sign of Otel. No one had seen him.

“OTEELLL! Did he leave early in the morning?” Flit said.

“Why’re you asking me?” Siamese pursed his lips.

“We’ve only been to, um, Junie’s house and the outskirts, so…”

“He’s in the outskirts. Yeah, I get it, Flitto-Fly. It’s so obvious, isn’t it?”

Flit resisted the urge to smack him in the back of the head, or worse. They went the same way to the less populated graveyard like they did the day before. A warm morning breeze brushed past Flit’s face, making them feel almost comfortable despite being surrounded by graves.

“Oh this is just lovely and homely, hm?” Siamese rolled his eyes. “I love it, it’s not creepy at all.”

They kept walking until they could see the edge of Necropolis, enclosed by the iron fence that wrapped around the whole village. There was a figure at the fence.

“OTEL! Is that him?!” Flit beamed.

As they got closer, they were sure it was Otel. He didn’t face them, though, instead staring off into the Wasteland.

“Hello, um, mulch-man?” Siamese said, poking Otel’s shoulder. Otel looked at them with wistful eyes and pointed to the Wasteland.

He delivered his signs methodically, as if trying to recollect his thoughts.

I heard Music, he signed, I heard them.

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