Quin doesn't believe everything Mother tells her, but she always believed this: humans are dangerous. Humans are like sinkholes, linger too long and they'll trap you. Tread carefully and only in the spots you know well, or they'll catch you by surprise.
Quin follows all the rules: Never let them see your true form, never introduce yourself (not even in a dream), never tell them the truth and most of all, never, ever let them in. Once you get too close, it's over. Humans don't care about their demons, whether they live or die. That's why their souls should never belong to one.
Today, Mother told her to run an errand alone. It's the morning shift on the train and there are icicles lining the train windows. These windows aren't rectangles, like the subway. They have fancy rounded corners, lights that don't flicker, and people sit still instead of prophesizing the rapture. No, the passengers stare into space or their phones. Now they are all asleep. She paws her way over the gaping mouths of slumbering humans.
The sleeping powder is more diluted than usual since Mother hasn't been making new batches. And as Quin can't stay invisible for longer than an hour at a time, she has been taking the form of a cat. That way, if someone does wake and see her, it isn't too particular. Most of the time when humans did catch a glimpse, she'd duck back into the shadows and blend in.
Leaping onto a chair, she swipes for the doubt seeds Mother tucked behind her ear. Quin plants the seeds onto the sleeping passengers, hoping they fall into a dream and take root in their subconscious. The sweet spot is right between the eyes. They're not much more than dust now, but if the right human gives them attention, they can blossom into webs and catch all kinds of intriguing thoughts -perfect for bottling and selling at their store.
Crrrrr! Crrrr-crrrrrr!
Quin's ears perk up. Crickets chirping! She follows the sound, sniffing the scent of grass in the summer heat. Quin glances back, past the heads on cushioned seats, to the icicles on the window. They are nowhere close to melting. This must be a daydream! She follows the sound onto the lap of a little boy. He is colouring a small hill green under a shining sun on a small sketchbook. Why isn't he sleeping?
She can already hear Mother snapping at her for getting distracted, but she doesn't get much time to do things on her own. The boy draws a fluffy white sheep on the grass that Quin can't help but want to pet. She darts closer and takes a quick look around. Mother won't notice her entering the drawing if it's just a few seconds.
Quin dips a foot into the page, feeling the warmth of his imagination pouring down on her back. It feels so real she can't help but fall into the drawing. Anything that humans put pieces of passion in become places where a demon can enter.
She squints in the light. This human's mind is bright and vibrant! Surely he won't notice if she takes a peek inside his mind. The boy's concentration on the drawing forms a bridge from the page to his mind. She slips in and then everything is too loud.
His thumping heart becomes deafening. Why is he excited? Maybe he just loves making art so much? No, that's not it. She feels the boy's body flood with shock, like a cold blast of wind to her face. A thought races through his mind. Who is that?
She freezes, a startled rabbit. How can he feel her? When she made these trips with Mother, humans never noticed them. If they did, it was as daydreams and nightmares, memories and hopes.
Quin takes a quiet step out the way she came, through the scribbles of crayon on paper. She doesn't dare take a breath, hoping to be as unnoticeable as possible. Retracing her steps across the squiggles, she refuses to read the words. Mother always says not to try and understand humans because that's how they pull you in.
Why, oh why is she always so curious? Mother always said humans use words to control demons for their own gain and she must always remember that. But still, the words on the page threaten to tell her a story. If she reads what he writes, the human might have a real chance of catching her.
Then the human pauses, lifting the green crayon from the page. He looks straight at Quin. How?! In a panic, Quin curls up into the shape of her name. No! Why did she do that? She didn't mean to, she thought she had forgotten how. Why are you here? The human writes.
Quin balks. A demon cannot lie. She tries to leap off the page but the tip of the crayon pins her down by the tail. Show yourself, the human writes, and unwillingly Quin felt her mind stretch open for the human to enter. He tumbles in, landing right in the middle of her garden. Every demon decorates their mind differently, and hers is full of succulents and floral arrangements. She can see him now, small and freckled, with eyes that carry fury and curiosity in the same blink.
"Where have you taken me", the boy demands, dark curls rising like a creature from hell. No! Quin doesn't want his soul, she is not doing a contract! She must scare him away. It mustn't be too terrifying or it might paralyze him, leaving him trapped within Quin. She does not want house guests, thank you very much.
"Answer me, kitty!" the boy says, touching Quin's shoulder.
Cold shock enters Quin as she takes the same shape as the boy's.
Cold shock enters Quin as she takes the same shape as the boy's.
"I am the shadow of your soul. Leave now before I consume you," Quin utters in her most ominous demon voice. In the back of her mind, she builds a door for him to leave. It sends a draft from the outside world that makes her shiver. She wants to close it as soon as she can and hide her space from the rest of the world.
But the boy just glances around at the daffodils.
"This doesn't look very shadowy."
It's his fault for giving her summery thoughts! Quin sends bees after him, swarming out from the yellow petals. He doesn't run toward the door as Quin had hoped. She pulls the door to close it, but without her confidence, it moves slowly.
"Bees don't have that much fuzz on them. These look like pompoms," the boy informs Quin.
She blushes. Quin never studied shrouding in school like her sister Winnie, so her worlds aren't perfect.
"My shadow would know what bees look like, I love animals," the boy continues, reaching out for the makeshift bees.
"They look more like..."-the bees grow longer, their buzzing deeper. They stick together into a giant monster of yellow and black. Quin stares at it, horrified. Bees are terrible!
"I'm sorry...don't cry," the boy says. Quin looks at his blurry form. Why is this human terrorizing her?
"Get out!" Quin said, unable to keep the upset from her voice. A whirlpool of yellow and black starts to spin the field, flushing the monstrous creature away. Hopefully, the boy too. And then he takes Quin's hand.
"I'm sorry about the bee," he says.
Quin feels something awful and gooey coat her heart. No one ever apologized to her before. Yuck, why does she feel so warm? This human must have given her a disease...Quin glances at his pretty eyes and feels his hand tighten around hers.
"I like your horns," the boy said. "You don't have to hide."
"I'll show you another time," Quin shouts. She summons the door with a strength she never knew she had and pushes the boy back into his own world.
Quin takes a moment, breathing hard. Did that seriously just happen? Did she actually open her mind for a human to enter? It was so fast, she didn't have time to stop and it didn't even occur to her not to let him in. Quin looks up at the human now, who is staring at her in her cat form, sitting on his sketchbook. She gasps and takes off. Scurrying out, she hides in the pattern of the walls and crawls back up towards the window. Luckily, no one else is awake. She sees the human boy in her peripheral, looking around at everyone sleeping. Hopefully, he doesn't scream or anything.
Despair fills Quin's gut. If Mother finds out a human has her name, she'll claw Quin's eyes out herself. She'll scream and fling insult after insult at Quin for bringing danger to them. What if the human learns witchcraft and weaves a spell to see what she sees? They would be exposed! Even if witches are nearly extinct and don't ride the train, the unlikeliness of an event never stops Mother from rampaging about it.
Quin can't believe this happened on her first solo mission, one she only got because Mother is sick. No, not sick, just tired...Mother would slash her head off if she heard Quin describing her as weak in any way. But Mother has been confining herself at home, paler than usual, sweating over store administration she usually left for beheaded slaves to do.
Quin floats closer towards the window that connects to the store's mirror. When she glides through, it turns silver and ripples. She thinks she hears the little boy's "Kitty come back-" but she doesn't look back.
She shouldn't be far from her physical body for long anyway. Not to mention, she cannot be late for her practice dream with Mother. After all, Mother never liked to wait, not even for a second.
