"... How the fuck have you died a couple times?" He'd heard of 'near death experiences' and shit like that, but he'd never heard anyone say it quite like that before.

Cain frowned a little but tossed the lighter over. Lester might be disappointed to find a cheap red plastic lighter in his hand. Nothing fancy at all.

He found himself idly wondering what their incentive to start talking would be, racking his brain for something to even talk about when the time came. Because it would. It definitely would. He didn't have any phobias and, now that he was dead, what was there left to fear or worry about? Fuck, this shit was starting to give him a headache.