Marked by the Devil

Smoke

"What are ya doin' in a place like this, kid?" The woman's voice was like a crumbled piece of paper, thin and rough at the same time.
Unfortunately, places 'like this' were what Maicca was accustom to. Smoke came from the woman's cigarette in smooth spirals, and the room was cloudy and gray, as the woman jumped up onto a table.
The woman was beautiful, but even Maicca new that wouldn't last. Her dark hair would gray. Her teeth would rot. All because of the little stick of death she breathed smoke from.
"I'm looking for a place to work," Maicca said, brushing a brown strand of hair back behind her ear. The woman's green eyes narrowed and scanned Maicca over. The fingerless gloves, ripped jacket. Suddenly Maicca wished she could have found better clothes.
"Work, huh?" The woman placed the cigarette between her thin lips, "That's strange." The woman looked away from Maicca and around the room before removing the cigarette from her mouth, a stream of smoke flowing from her mouth, "You don't look like you have much to offer."
Maicca shoved her hands in her pockets, "I don't ask for pay. All I ask for is a place to sleep and access to food. I don't care if I sleep on a sleeping bag in the kitchen if that's all you've got. I can clean dishes. I can sweep, wipe down tables, take orders, serve, whatever you need me to do."
The woman looked back to Maicca. Her gaze was cold as she peered into Maicca's soft blue eyes, before she quirked an eyebrow, "What makes you think I need help around here?"
"I've only seen one other person enter that is not a customer," Maicca said, keeping her face neutral, "And the amount of customers you have has steadily declined."
The woman now raised both eyebrows, "You've been spying on me?"
Maicca shook her head, "No, ma'am, I've been simply watching your doors. Anyone can see who enters a building, Miss. Even the people entering in robes."
This caught the woman's attention, "Robes?" She repeated. It was almost not a question but an accusation.
"Robes." Maicca nodded, "I know what this place is really for. It's not a good restaurant. The meals you provide are always under or overcooked and your drinks always always warm. Your kitchen is horribly under health code and your sink looks hardly used."
The woman slid off the table, stepping towards Maicca, "How do you know this?"
"It's there for all to see," Maicca gestured to the kitchen, which fit the description. The counters were grimy, the sinks hardly used, and scurrying could be heard through the cabinets by a good ear. "Having someone who is willing to work for free doesn't sound half bad now, does it? Especially since it means you can dedicate yourself to your witchcraft. Am I right, Miss?"
Maicca watched the blood drain from the woman's face and felt a smirk growing on her face.
"Fine," the woman said. She sat on the counter again. "What's your name, girl?"
"Maicca." She replied, bowing her head, "Thank you, miss..."
"Scarlet."
Maicca smiled, looking back up, "Ms. Scarlet."

As Maicca left the building to retrieve the small bag of things she called hers, she let out a soft sigh of relief. The witchcraft was a bluff. But there's only so many things that require robes and secrecy.
A witch was the only person who'd take her in, which in a way, was good. A witch was less likely to skewer her with a stake through the heart.
At least, Maicca thought so, and if she were to die, she'd much prefer it to by a sacrifice in some ritual. Not on the cold streets by hypothermia.
She swung the bag over her shoulder, it was where she left it, as she left it, which caused some suspicion in the back of her mind.
She met eyes with an older man, and she waved with a kind smile. She was in a good mood. This was rare. Very rare, in fact, that Maicca felt weary about it.
Scarlet seemed nice. She had yet to meet her one fellow employee. She had made this sort of deal before, and she knew what to expect.
Now, Maicca just needed to not mess it up.
Surely it'd be easy.