14.0

MONDAY. (We'll say it's Monday, assuming you're from Earth.) Juno stands outside the Secretary of Styx. He peers through one of the large windows flanking its doors then sighs at the dyspeptic crowd inside, relieved that he's not in it but depressed about literally everything else regarding his situation. Deep into the crowd, two antennae and a droopy tail, all with matching orbs, catch Juno's eyes. Before he can look away, twin pigtails swing around, revealing an irritated but pretty face with enormous eyes. It's Juby. Juno swears she sees him, but she doesn't react exceptionally, which he's thankful for.

The office's double doors open. Hal and their new guest step out. The guest has a stocky body with five eyes, six tails, seven nostrils, and eight arms. This is Kevin, previously known as "the spider-like alien". I suppose he is somewhat spider-like, that is, if your only idea of a spider is a creature with eight arms.

Juno smiles in awe as Kevin walks before him. "Wow, you have eight arms. That's so cool. You're kind of like a spider, haha."

Kevin stops. He turns to face Juno. "I lived on Earth. I'm aware that none of you humans like spiders."

"Oh. Sorry. I really did mean it, though, I think you're cool."

"And I think you're better off just showing me where my room is." Kevin walks down the hall, toward elevators.

Hal glares at Juno and follows the guest. Juno straightens himself then notices the conference room door. Countless, furious guests line up beside it. Its window rays an alluring light, pulling Juno. He lingers at the spot, where Oto's muffled yelling can be heard.

"Hey! No cutting!" A guest barks, several more behind her protest as well.

Juno apologizes and steps back to where he can still see through the window. He stares inside the room, wherein tons of hastily-filled files sprawl across the floor. At a narrow, monolithic table, Oto and Cheron sit across from Clark. Oto thrusts an interrogative finger at the former concierge, whose smile still remains, both on his face and in Juno's memory. Cheron rubs her eye, spotting Juno at the corner of it. He tenses.

The redhead ambles toward the window and mouths, "Are you lost?"

Juno shakes his head.

"Are you sure?"

Juno shakes his head.

Cheron puffs something like a giggle and smiles. Her eyes curve upward into two comforting crescents.

The silent exchange stops as Oto and Hal call their respective partners. It's only Monday and everyone is tired, but no one can sleep.

TUESDAY. Due to understaffing, Juno often aids the other branches of Hotel service. Today, he is helping Molly and Madame Muffinpie tidy the garden bordering the building. Unsurprisingly, not much grows here, and what can thrive threatens the nearby columns and awnings. The maids use their sickles to both prune and detain the voracious plants. The jagged teeth and splintering, tentacle-like roots twitch and burst as they hit the ground. Juno opts for clean-up duty.

As he brooms, Juno peaks around the corner, where Oto waters a group of puny anemones, causing their shriveled leaves to crack and fall like ash. The reaper sets down the watering can, straightens his black hat, and sighs. Beside him, Cheron sits, leaning against his legs. She opens her phone then reads an excerpt of a silly story she's proud of. Oto chuckles and pats her head.

"How are you feeling?" She asks.

Oto sits beside her. "Fine. A little bit distraught. A lot-a-bit angry. I swear, I only told the managers the suite's computer password."

"Maybe one of the rogues guessed it was the same as your phone password. But 'onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight' wasn't very secure anyway."

"Maybe... yeah." Oto faces Cheron. "We never did watch that movie."

"And the paperwork isn't nearly as enthralling as we had hoped." She yawns and guzzles two painkillers. "Speaking of which, we should head back. Break's over."

"I think you need more than one break, Cherry." He swallows a handful of pills as well. "You still need sleep, right?"

"It's not like I'll die without it."

Oto looks away. "Hm. You know, I've been thinking a lot about your immortality lately. I mean like, yeah, you're immortal, but Makron was right. Technically, everyone is. It's not fair that your case was deemed 'illegal.' Illegal in the eyes of who? Who exactly makes that... Or, wait, it was something like that, I can't remember exactly what the bald man said, even though he yelled it thousands of times, right in my hearing holes." A moment passes. "Now that I think about it, Makron changed a lot. Not that he isn't the type to steal and wreak anarchy, but, hey, also, you changed a lot, too, I think. And I don't just mean the hair, I mean—" He turns to his partner again. She's dead-asleep.

Oto smiles and lays Cheron on the ground, where he thinks she'd be more comfortable. Juno returns to brooming.

WEDNESDAY. At the reception desk, Todd and Juno schedule guests' appointments and, in rarer cases, punishments. However, these punishments never extend beyond the severity of, say, five hours in a curiously scented ball pit or ads after every song in your playlist. Stuff like that. They are innocuous to sustain the Hotel's distinction from eternal damnation, and they are violently human because Cheron devises them.

Juno looks down at the pile of buff folders before him and holds one labeled "CASEY". It contains the former bellhop's unfortunate schedule, just above her mugshot.

"SQUAWK!" Todd squawks.

"Uh. I'm just reviewing her file," Juno replies, not understanding. His gaze trails down Casey's list of punishments, to her petrified smile.

"SQUAWK!"

"Mhm?" Juno hears approaching hoofsteps, but he can't stop staring at the picture.

"SQUAWK? SQUAWK!"

"Huh?" Juno glances up to see Sven and Toupika, both of whom are still registering the brutal verbiage Todd just committed. They understand, and they are horrified. Juno tidies his area, paying no mind. "Ah, sorry, I'm sorry. How may I help you?"

"No worries, king," Sven says. "We're just here to pick up our schedules."

"And don't mind what Mr. Crowe said here," Toupika adds. "You're doing your best and that's what matters."

Todd cracks his knuckles.

"What? Uh," Juno mumbles, rifling through the files, destroying what he just tidied. He opens two files each with a horse's name. The schedules are identical, each containing a workout regimen, college classes, job opportunities, and therapy appointments. Both files have been approved and signed "THANATOS" in dainty cursive.

When the two guests warmly wave goodbye, Juno returns to Casey's picture and thinks about what she said.

THURSDAY. Juno sits outside the Hotel's entrance, atop the cobblestone steps. Holding an extensive chain leash, Juno watches Cheron and Oto's funny looking, very happy dog. It has the size and fur of a black labrador, but its ears stick straight up like long, black spikes. Its eyes are devoid of light, but its face is clearly human, as if it wears a suit. Juno has never seen the dog eat, but he has seen it swallow and regurgitate whole souls. They never look the same after. This is Sir. Its chunky collar and tag say so.

Juno feels as though he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't, and he can't, but he still gets a sense of morning and night, now being ungodly early. He massages his temples and looks across the white plane. Over the sound of Sir peeing on dead flowers, Juno hears "Auld Lang Syne," distant but clear and somewhat sultry. He closes his eyes, letting the song swim into his ears and inhaling the chemically clean air. Juno sighs. It's nice. He opens his eyes to see Sir's grinning and panting mouth, ready to consume. Juno yelps and falls to the bottom of the stairs, where Sir meets him. Juno pets it. The song has stopped. He sighs again.

FRIDAY. A day off. Juno uses it to stroll around the emptiness of Purgatory. After several hours of unfruitful searching, seeing no door and hearing no song, he returns and sits atop the steps again.

"Stupid," he mutters to himself.

"Damn straight," a voice from above concurs.

Juno looks up to see Juby peeking out from an open window.

She spins down, softly lands, and sits beside him, then continues, "I mean, this is your one day off, and you used it to get lost? Come on Juno, there're so many other better, mind-bendingly boring things to do here."

He rolls his eyes. "Like separating double-sided tape for four hours? That was one of your punishments, right? I read your file, Juby. Aren't you still on parole?"

She holds two peace signs up. "I'm on break for good behavior."

"Wow, what an achievement. You didn't nag someone's ear off for nearly a week? You've really changed for the better since we last spoke."

"And you haven't changed at all. Still a step stool."

They smile, as if speaking a secret language.

Juno fidgets with his sheath belt. "So you did see me at S.O.S., you just didn't make a scene when you did. I'm impressed, really."

"Hm? Nah. I didn't know you were here until yesterday."

"Mm."

"You know, when you fell down the stairs?"

"Mm."

"Because that thing breathed on you?"

"You mean Sir?"

"I never gave you a pet name when we were dating. What makes you think I'd ever call you 'sir?'"

Juno groans and starts down the steps. "I'm going to go walk again."

Juby stands too. "Ha! I got under your skin, didn't I? Because I mentioned the past? You can admit it, you know. I'll only hold it over you a little while. Get it? Because I'm taller than you?"

He keeps walking. "And you can admit that you're mad I ended the conversation, and that you just want to walk with me."

She growls through pursed lips, then she laughs a little.

The two walk and talk for hours. They've got some catching-up to do.

SATURDAY. A team has gathered in the conference room to finally discuss Oto's ugly public relations and how to fix them. The unending influx of increasingly angry guests does nothing to help his image. It seems that, no matter where he goes, he can never be truly alone.

Oto and Cheron sit at the head of the long obsidian table, still filling their interminable stacks of reports. Juno and Madame Muffinpie flank the table, neither doing or looking at anything in particular. Molly paces around the room, occasionally jotting ideas onto a wall-sized white board, trying to scrawl around Todd, who is filling the white board with hyper-detailed schemes and diagrams. At the door, Hal directs a group of bellhops to transfer incoming souls. He asks his troops how the S.O.S. is doing. There are two bellhops running it. They need help. Hal nods, trying to look considerate and failing.

Molly stops pacing and taps Oto's shoulder. "Sir Death, the meeting."

"Hm?" Oto glances up once then continues writing. "Yeup, yes, I have called you all here today... to... meet... "

Molly sighs.

Juno tugs at his uniform. "Couldn't you have called upon, I don't know, anyone else besides Madame Muffinpie and me? We can't possibly be qualified lieutenants, let alone PR officers."

Molly tilts her head. "Huh? Well none of our other, higher-ranking employees wanted to help, and Hal told me you both offered to take the jobs."

"What? No, we..." Juno glances at Hal, who sharpens his bright white tusks. The feeble human gulps. "...We begged."

Cheron rearranges her paperwork, not looking up. "Ideas, people. What can we do?"

Madame Muffinpie patters the table. "Throw a lavish party, inviting only the most remarkable people!"

"First, we should work on building your social media presence." Pushing up her glasses, Molly turns to the white board. "Sir Death, you have a Hivemind account, but so far it only holds pictures of your failed garden and sewing projects."

"Is that..." Oto clears his throat. "Is that bad?"

"You should instead use the account as a positive space." Molly writes the plan as an itemized list on the board. "Showcase the Hotel. Staff the S.O.S., then post information about the registering process."

Madame Muffinpie sinks into her seat, still pattering the table, but much quieter now.

"I second Molly." With a waving hand, Hal shoos his desperate troops. "If guests could know, say, literally anything about anything before coming to the S.O.S., that would be fantastic."

Juno shifts uncomfortably.

"Good idea, Molly. Thanks," Cheron says, her gaze falls upon two reports: Sven and Toupika. She stops. Oto's eyes drift to her.

"SQUAWK!" Todd squawks.

"Holy— Geez, wow." Oto's eyes shoot across the room to Todd. "That's... an incredibly complex proposition, Todd."

Juno glances around. "What?"

Oto continues, "And, you know, it would definitely take out any... opposing forces, but we're looking for a more amicable arrangement."

"Hold on." Juno holds his hands in the air, lonely and confused. "I've been meaning to ask this: he actually says things with meaning? He's just squawking!"

"I could say the same for you, buddy." Hal puts his massive mitt on the small man's shoulder. "Don't be rude."

"Perhaps," Madame Muffinpie pipes up again, "Perhaps we could deploy troops to aid civilians. Perhaps they would fancy that."

Cheron looks up.

Oto cocks a brow. "Help them? All of our operations center on death and the processes thereafter. Do you mean providing therapy? We already do that."

"I, I don't know, I was so old and sick when I died, maybe we can..."

"There is no cure for natural death, Madame Muffinpie," Molly murmurs.

"I never said, er, uh. I don't know..." The cat trails off then jolts when she feels Cheron's hand on her ghostly shoulder.

"Thank you. That's a wonderful idea," Cheron says. Her hand is warm. She stands up and speaks to the whole room. "For now, we'll focus on Molly's idea for the most part, but we need to address the universe's most powerful voices directly." She turns to Oto. "Oto, the entire mortal realm is on fire right now. We need to calm the people, and we need to do it fast. How can we get all of them to listen to you?"

Juno eyes the files. "I know someone who can help."

Everyone looks to Juno, then to the files. Their eyes snap to Juby's.