Outside of a building, two demons leaned against the wall, blocking the entrance door. One yawned while the other repeatedly struck a lighter, trying in vain to light a cigarette.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"You ever wonder—"
"No. Stop. Shut up."
"Dude, I was just going to ask is if you ever wonder—"
"Wonder why we're here? Yadda, yadda, yadda. One of life's who gives a fuck?"
"What?! No, I'm—"
"Look, I'm just trying to smoke, Simmons. We're fucking grunts and you're the one who coerced me into this. 'Oh, If you don't join in, you're losing out.' we're still broke!"
". . Dick."
"Asshole."
After another failed attempt, the demon threw the lighter. It left his hand before his brain caught up, and the moment it vanished, he smacked his forehead in regret.
"Fuck."
A miserable groan escaped him. With his palm clamped firmly to his forehead, he stared hard at the concrete beneath his feet and slowly collapsed into a sit.
In the moment of his moping, a startling click jarred him from his thoughts. A tiny flame flared to life right under his nose, and his expression instantly shifted from confusion to relief.
"Fuck yeah!"
He lit the cigarette without a moment's hesitation, terrified that if he hesitated, the fire would vanish and leave him utterly screwed.
He sat in silence for a moment before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver." Then, as if now realizing, he pointed a finger. "And, uh. . who are you?"
'You're now asking that?'
Felix hesitated, scratching at his hair as he offered a quiet reply. "Nobody."
This response naturally did not sit well with the two demons, whom Felix pegged as both sinners based on their appearance.
"That definitely isn't ominous."
"Yeah, right dude. Seriously, who are you?"
They only managed to catch a split second of his embarrassed grin before he covered his mouth and turned his head from them.
When the one known as Simmons reached toward his pocket, the smoking demon beside him cast a glare that pierced straight through his resolve.
Rolling his eyes, Simmons shot a look back, silently daring the smoker to do something about it.
"Hey, uh, listen man. I appreciate you helping me, but I kind of have a shitty job to do. So, uh, care to tell me who you are and why you're here?"
"Right. I'm Felix. And I'm here for work."
One look at their bewildered expressions proved they were completely caught off guard.
The smoker looked closely at him, trying to see if he was serious. After a minute, he scoffed.
"Uh, sure. We'll have to check for anything on you though."
Complying, Felix raised his arms. As the two men patted him down, their expressions suddenly shifted. From beneath his coat, they pulled a poorly maintained knife.
Panic-stricken, Felix tried to explain: "Hey, please, I only got that for self-defense."
Simmons held up the blade, turning it over in his hand. He leaned toward the smoker, lowering his voice into a gravelly whisper.
"You know that feeling? Like kicking a three-pawed puppy that just got adopted? I'm starting to get that. So what the hell do we even do with this guy?"
The smoker let out a heavy groan, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Driving the kid away was technically the simplest choice, but as his eyes drifted over Felix, his considered otherwise.
Besides, killing him was too much damn work. They had just handed him a flame and looked completely harmless. With the knife confiscated, they posed little risk.
"Hell if I'm dealing with it," the smoker muttered, throwing his hands up. "Let's just make it the boss's problem. If he's useless, that dude can throw him out himself."
Simmons shrugged, pocketing the sad little knife as he grabbed Felix by the shoulder, shoving him toward the entrance door.
The interior of the building was largely vacant. Felix kept his head low, but his eyes easily caught a few demons scattered across the dirty floor.
A couple of them were huddled around makeshift tables playing poker. Although they appear to be playing a variety of games, it was the only game Felix could recognized.
Felix's appearance drew sharp stares from across the room. Sensing trouble, Simmons grabbed his arm and guided him toward a dark corner, slipping him through the back door.