Slumping against a wall, of which I was still apprehensive; I sat down with my fingers clutched to a can of food. It was still, obviously, night. And there were still only a measly few light sources. So it was dark. Incredibly dark. Such that my eyes were almost useless in such a predicament. I couldn't even see the can of food in front of me. 

How was I supposed to eat? I carried my nose to the can, and sniffed the scent up my nostrils. The scent was like fine art. It made me see colors and images. The only images I had seen since the sun sank. It smelled familiar. Perhaps they were pineappales. I loved pineapples a lot. Like, a lot. However, sour apples were much preferred. 

I wasn't sure how pineapples were going to sate my long kept hunger. But, I couldn't resist the sweet scent for nothing. And besides, I had a small appetite to begin with. Though, I needed a spoon to eat the pineapple slices. 

I slowly carried the can of food to my mouth. As soon as it had touched my lips, it poked me. I retracted my head, jolting. "Aw snap! I think got cut!"

"Oh, really? Is it bad?" asked Hanso. "I doubt it's that bad. Demons can smell blood. And right now, I don't think I'm smelling anything."

I placed a finger upon my lip. I felt something moist. Perhaps blood. I carried the finger under my nose, and took in the smell of it. Having done so, it was proved to be indeed blood. 

"I cut the can with a knife in the dark. There was no can opener, and so there was no smooth cutting of the material," Miguel said. "I'm sorry. That's on me."

Of course. A knife was a stupid thing to open a can of with. So I was bound to get cut. The lid of the cylindrical can was probably cut open jaggedly, leaving pointed edges. There was a searing pain in my lips. 

"Actually," Hanso said, "it's my fault. It's not on you, Miguel. That's because," suddenly a light flickered, "I had a torchlight all along."

This bastard. 

"What! No way!" I remarked. Loud. Too loud. I probably even broke rule two."

"I'm sorry," Hanso tittered, "I decided not to use it because I didn't want to accidentally reveal our location to others. A damn light source will stick out like a sore thumb in a world of darkness."

"You should've revealed it to us before I cut my lips, before we ended up accidentally wasting a can of food and before Miguel cut his finger while opening the cans!" I snapped. Still too loud. I quickly covered my mouth from the time recognition dawned on me."

Hanso clicked on his torchlight and directed it at me. I squinted as the light hit my face. It burned my eyes to the point where I wrinkled and even winced. Hanso scoffed. "Hah! I can't believe you're pissed right now. It's not like the torchlight has full battery anyway."

"That torchlight," Miguel said, "did you find it on the second nearest bookshelf to the ladder in the attic? The bookshelf with soley books of exotic literature."

"Yeah, I did," Hanso replied, flashing the torchlight at Miguel, "how'd you know?"

Miguel squinted and then turned his head. "Well, I obviously checked the attic as well. But I decided to leave the torchlight. To be honest, I didn't think we'd need it. But then again, I also saw that the battery was more half dead."

"Ah, I see. Pretty sly. You're a rat, alright."

The red-eyed creature at Hanso's shoulder decided to chime in, "To be in debt is much worse than being a rat. If you repay for debt, you might just become a lion."

That line was ... cheesy. Awfully. 

"Shuddap!" Hanso, as expected, snarled at it. 

I narrowed my eyes. "Anyone has a spoon?"

I really needed a spoon. And there was no way I was going to cut my precious lips again. 

"Nope," Hanso resonded, "demons only need their hands to feast."

He wasn't helpful at all. But he did give me an idea. 'Eating with the hands, huh? It's a bit barbaric, but I can probably give it a shot,' I sighed, 'Mom's rolling in her grave right about now,' I thought, rotating the can of food. Pineapple slipped out and fell onto my empty hand. I caught most, but some had fallen to the floor.

I had no intentions of sharing my hard-earned food with the floor. 

I then raised the can upright again, and tried to make out the food in my other hand. I bent my neck, and carried the food to my mouth. In no time, I was chewing on pineapple slices that had existed for probably more than decades. And to be frank, it was pretty damn good for food rivaling my great grandmother's age. 

I started eating faster. And faster. I emptied the can of food in my mouth, and chewed and swallowed like a beast that dwelled unfed for weeks. Suddenly, a light source landed on my face.

I hissed. "Oh my ... Hanso with the light again ..."

"You're supposed to be a zombie, not a vampire," he said, turning off the flashlight, "and wow, buddy, slow down on the pineapples for a bit. You'll choke. I know you just went a bit out of character just now ... but you're apparently killing it again. Eating those pineapples like a zombie would eat brains."

I pressed my lips together in a line. The zombie. The demon. The rat. Hanso wasn't letting up with those jokes for nothing. He couldn't be any more childish than he was at the moment. 

"Hey, Ash," he said, "I'm still hungry. Can you pass me another one of—"

Suddenly a huge beam of light luminated the entirety of the alley. I jolted in dismay, squinting. Hanso and Miguel raised their hands in front of their faces, flinching. What was it? It wasn't Hanso's torchlight. 'Where did all this light come from? I thought. My pupils swept the area until ...

Until they met the distant silhouettes of looming figures at the end of the alley.