Human Spines

Talking on a Train-I

Emmeline

        We've made it to the train station. There was an unusual amount of unnecessary Demons roaming around the closer to the station we got. Bird-like Demons that I've never seen out of the sky, chilling on the curb. Dark, rectangular Demons that never leave closets, sunbathing on top of parked cars. Hook-shaped Demons that I've only seen connected to a boat's sails, dangling from telephone wires. I didn't approach any, but I did make a mental note to tell Amistifer there's something wrong with the Demons in Slidell.

        We step inside the building and the severe odor steeping in the room immediately punches me in the face. The potent musk of leather is so drastic I can almost see it wafting around the people in the room. They smell it too, but not as intensely. There's a women with a child sitting on a row of chairs, their noses buried in a picture book that the mother reads aloud. A man sits with his headphones on, his head cleverly placed on his hand so that his fingers cover his nose as he stares at his laptop screen. Another woman, a much older one, lounges with her eyes closed, her hands folded on her lap and her head leaning against the wall. She seems to enjoy the smell.

        "Is there any... uhhhh... demonic reason it smells like leather in here?" Dumaine whispers. All around the room there are Demons. One... Twelve... Twenty-nine... Forty-two... Fifty-one. Corpses.

        "There are fifty-one Demon corpses strewn around this room. This was a massacre. These Demons were important. Each one's been hooked and strung to the ceiling with fishing wire. Illyvimsius did this. The leather is the smell of their bodies quickly rotting. But I don't understand. They have no visible cause of death. They've just died," I report.

        "...I don't think I heard you correctly." His voice is small.

        "Fifty-one. Demon. Corpses."

        "Oh... I don't know if that's not cool or... not." He shuffles. "Are you sure it wasn't that other guy? Sin-seer or something."

        "Osinsius obliterates his victims. Illyvimsius hangs them. It's horribly disrespectful. I need to tell Amistifer—"

        "No!" Lochlan reaches out to cover my mouth, but refrains when his eyes flick to Dumaine. "Whispering is good. Whispering is the best. Let's all whisper," he breathes, looking anywhere but the floor. I glance down at our feet to find... worms. Thousands of worms.

        "Why whisper?" I softly ask.

        "Those are Demons. Listening Demons. They report directly to the Reaper-Mother, telling her everything they hear."

        "I thought every Demon did that."

        "I would be the most paranoid man on Earth if they did," He breathes.

        "I don't like it. This means you have secrets. I find secret keeping mildly repulsive unless the secret keeping is mutually agreed upon by both the keeper and listener," I affirm.

        "What are we whispering about?" Dumaine murmurs, taking a step closer.

        "Demons. There's no reason for secrets and no reason for whispering. Truth should be told, not silenced and left to simmer," I state, my emotions surging.

        "Did you make her angry?" Dumaine hisses at Lochlan.

        "I'm worried, not angry. The worms are crawling up the wall." I step between the two.

        "Worms? Wait, what?" Dumaine's eyes flick around the room.

        "Explain to him for me." I instruct Lochlan before dropping myself to the ground. I see Dumaine walk to one of several long rows of seats and plop down, setting his accordion on the chair to his right and his hat on the chair to his left, leaving Lochlan to awkwardly crouch next to him and explain in hushed tones.

        "There's no need for whispering!" I nearly shout to Lochlan, causing the others in the room to stare. I forgot they were here.

        I reach out to the worm Demons and watch as they wiggle their way onto my hand. I slip my backpack off and open it, sliding a few worms into my bag. I stand, making my way over Dumaine. He moves his hat for me to sit beside him and Lochlan steals the seat next to me.

        "No secrets. I have five little worm Demons in my bag to listen to everything we say," I share.

        "Emmeline, I'm sorry but I don't understand your need to make sure the Demons know you have no secrets. I thought you wanted to separate yourself from them. To have a life like a person," Lochlan tries.

        "I have no intention of turning my life into that of a 'person.' The only true change I seek is giving myself the ability to choose whether or not I'll be possessed when a Demon comes. I don't want lies, I don't want death, and most importantly, I don't want to permanently separate myself from the Demons."

        "Yes, I do believe that's an admirable idea, as one of them is your father." Goosebumps rise as long fingers slide over my shoulder, cross my collar bones, and curl onto my other shoulder. Another hand begins to thread its fingers into my hair.

        "But why must we not be permitted to possess you, my dear?" Amistifer calmly questions.

        Please, no. My palms sweat. My face heats. My legs electrify. I have learned that when Amistifer doesn't use his extravagant vocabulary, and it's not because of Dindolcon, someone usually ends up... This is my fault. The Demon in the French Quarter said I'd be punished. I want to run. I want to grab Dumaine and Lochlan and go full speed until I collapse.

        "But you've never collapsed before, have you, darling? They have. Your 'friends.' And, my child, I must ask, are you aware this one"—he points to Lochlan—"has lied to you about his name? And the names of his parents. And probably everything else, as he and his kind are very good liars... No, you had no idea did you? But do you care?" His voice in my ear is the only thing I can hear.

        I can't move. My eyes won't focus. I can't swallow. I don't remember when I last took a breath.

        "And why does the other one look at his fingers when he plays? I wouldn't respect him if I were you. Why is the lying one even here? Oops. I guess he's not anymore."

        I try to speak. I'm screaming. No, I am planning on screaming, but it's not coming out. Not even in my mind. I can feel my muscles trembling. They want to screech, but they're—

        "Inoperative? Yes, well, there are some... predicaments that I need you to stay away from for a while and since the Sibling couldn't distract you earlier and I need to punish you for your transgression anyway, I'll just throw her attack at you again. From a different angle."

        Dumaine. Just don't hurt Dumaine.

        "Oh, no, he can do that to himself. Did you not feel him shift earlier? His body and mind were two separate beings! He nearly killed himself without even realizing it!"

        All I can feel is heat. Torrid. White. Heat.

        "Yes, it's your turn. Feel it burn, daughter." His arms let go. I feel his absence right before I hear myself shriek. All of my senses flood back and I can see Dumaine again, his face directly in front of mine, his worried panic ripping his eyes so far open I smile. I laugh. I taste blood in my mouth.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to vote! What do you think of Amistifer now? Would you be whispering like Lochlan or letting the Demons know all your secrets like Emmeline? Comment what you think!