Stories from the Concrete Jungle

Part Three - The Renewal

CW: There is a very brief mention of an animal being hurt.

"Welcome to Richmond, Virginia."

Jolly's eyes popped open and he looked around the plane. He had slept through the entire flight from Newark and the subsequent landing, and the sound of unbuckling belts and quiet talking and laughing could be heard from other passengers.

He peeked out the small window, and looked around his new home of Richmond, Virginia, United States, at the behest of the Supernatural Department of Affairs, for which he was their newest contractor.

It was a normal gig for the Nephilim; it paid well, and it was something they were inherently good at, killing demons. And he got to see the world, and what other jobs could provide that? When the opening came up to go to America, he jumped on it, and had been chosen over three other Nephilim who had applied.

Paperwork had been filed, a work visa issued, and he was on his way to America, leaving his home country of Sweden behind.

And even though he flew with his own wings that erupted from his back, he was happy to be out of the metal flying tube and onto solid ground. He pulled out his carry-on from the storage, and stepped into the aisle.

He had sent his sword ahead of him, which had been a difficult thing to part with, but since he was traveling via airplane, it had been unavoidable. But he had packed three full duffel bags for his indefinite stay in America, which he collected from the luggage carousel.

He pulled out his phone, and scrolled through to the bottom of his itinerary: An agent will be waiting for you when you land.

He rolled his eyes skyward. It didn't specify the agent's name, or where they would be, or what time they would be there. Only that someone would be waiting for him. He hoisted two bags onto his shoulders, his carry-on around his body, and pulled carried his last bag with him over his shoulder as he stepped out into the stunning autumn day.

"Joakim? Joakim Karlsson?"

He turned at the sound of his name to find the guy who said it. He was a medium build, with short brown hair tucked under a ballcap, a plain shirt with jeans on. He had olive complexion, like he spent a lot of time in the sun. And he smelled... different.

"That's me," Jolly said, offering his hand to the other. "You can call me Jolly."

"Cool," he said, taking his offered hand and shaking it. "I'm Nick. Nick Folio. You can call me Nick. Or Folio."

He smiled at Jolly, and Jolly nodded his head. "So, you are my ride?"

"Yup, I'm parked right over here," Nick said, turning around and leading Jolly to a sleek black town car. He popped the trunk open, and helped Jolly set his bags inside the trunk. They shut the trunk and rounded the car. "So, Sweden? Must be a cool place."

They chatted until the reached the SDAEC, where they unloaded Jolly's bags and Nick let them into the building and took him up to his new home; a spacious studio apartment.

"I'm three doors away," Nick said, letting the bag he was carrying slap the ground. "Let me know if you need anything!"

Jolly only nodded his head.

—-

He got used to a routine.

Wake up, work out, then get to work.

He had been assigned to learn the ropes with Nick, who Jolly found out a few days later, was a werewolf.

"That's pretty cool," Jolly said, after Nick had told him about his powers.