Young Writers Society

WARNING: This chapter has a character struggle with the effects of childhood neglect and heavily implied homophobia. If you're not comfortable reading something like that, I advise skipping to the second part of this chapter. 

However, the neglect/homophobia is only referenced and not explicitly described, so it hopefully wouldn't be too difficult to read. If you do skip over this section and have questions about the next part, definitely let me know - I'd be happy to clarify anything that's not clarified in part two!

The story so far: Quinn makes a deal with a demon named Azazel - who has somehow been forced into a robotic body. Three years later, Quinn is a runaway and Azazel is going by the name Issac. The two of them are traveling the country in search of the people who made Issac the way he is now, but run into a little roadblock when their newest (and best) lead is killed by a hunter.

After taking a bus to the next town over, they run into Issac's friend Bell at a hotel called Abe's Lodge. But before Quinn and Issac could get to their room, they find out about a series of disappearances that have been taking place around town. They decide to investigate the latest disappearance by going to a haunted house called Lowland Haunts.

After getting several clues, they return to their hotel room.

Chapter 4

Quinn stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room. They had printed out a stack of paper that Issac was meticulously stapling and piling over at the desk right now. She knew he had set aside another set of documents when she heard another clack coming from that corner of the room. Quinn tried to avoid thinking about how much paper they had wasted. She had just wanted to look at it on the computer, but Issac had been worried about Bell seeing what they were doing.

(Quinn suspected it was also because he preferred paper to electronics.)

The ceiling here was a faded tan. Everything was smooth. If the paint had ever chipped from it, it had been quickly and uniformly replaced. It was nothing like their last hotel room, that was for sure.

Her mind drifted.

The paint was the same shade of tan her bedroom walls had been painted. Inspecting the ceiling made her think of how many hours she had spent staring at those walls, too. Back then she had been thinking about her next robotics competition; now she was thinking about a series of disappearances.

She closed her eyes.

Terry. Sylvia. Kaia. Percy. Suzanna. Emile. Logan. Adam.

“Did you learn anything about Adam from Nolan?” she asked. She rolled onto her side and opened her eyes. Issac had his back turned to her. There was a clack as he stapled another set of reports. She waited a moment, listening to him rustle through the papers. There was one final clack before the room fell into a suffocating silence. When she sat up, she saw that he had gone through the last file. There was nothing left for him to staple.

“...Issac?” she hesitantly asked.

He let out a sigh.

“Adam was a demon,” he relented.

He was staring at the table now, but Quinn was too focused on the implications of Adam being a demon to really notice it. She got to her feet and walked over to the desk. Most of the stapled reports were in a neat pile, but two of them had been set aside: Adam's and one belonging to a man named Gabriel Eberhardt. “Nolan knew?”

“It would be easy for him to,” he softly, “as he's also one.”

Quinn's eyes widened. “Nolan's a demon?”

He finally looked up at her. There was a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips, but, for some reason, Quinn doubted that it was just because he couldn't physically smile all the way. “I forgot you have never met another demon beside me.”

He thought for a moment.

“Or,” he corrected. “one that you knew was a demon.”

The last time Quinn had seen Nolan, she had only been a few years old. The memories from that time were little more than a blur, but a handful of them were clear enough for her to put together a picture of Nolan's life. There had been a play date in some park. Her father and Nolan were off talking in the corner; her mother was talking with a woman that must have been Nolan's wife. She didn't remember what any of them looked like, but some part of her had just known that it was the relationship. Quinn hadn't really cared about what the adults were up to. She had wanted to play with a girl her age in the sandbox, even when her mom scolded her for getting her designer dress dirty.

...A demon had a family.

Why was that thought so hard for her to accept? She was best friends with one. She should have been more accepting, even if it went against everything she thought she knew.

Her mind flickered back to the conversation they had back in the lobby earlier that day. Issac and Bell had been a thing, once. She couldn't remember Issac ever showing interest in someone before. When she looked over at him in search of something she couldn't quite name, she saw he was studying her again.

“Do you like anyone?” she blurted. “Romantically?”

Issac raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking?”

Her gaze fell down to the desk.

“You've never mentioned it before,” she said. Her eyes followed the whorls in the wood. The lines were nearly identical, but she kept searching for one that was even a little bit different. “But then Bell mentioned that you once dated. And I know Nolan has a family, so the reason you haven't ever wanted to date can't be because you're a demon.”

She suddenly felt his hand wrap around her own. If she focused hard enough, she could feel a gentle vibration underneath the warmth of his artificial skin. She looked up at him. She didn't know why, but she felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Frantically trying to blink them away didn't help. She should have known that, too, after so many afternoons spent crying away in a bathroom as big as this hotel room.

“Are...Are humans the only ones who can't do it right?” she asked. “Nolan's daughter loved him. I-I remember how happy she was talking about him. He always made time for her. And you still like Bell, even though she realized she's not straight.”

She didn't want to try reading his expression. She was scared that she'd find the same look she found on her dad's face after she told him about her first crush. She couldn't bear the disappointment. She had been able to hide away in her room back then; there was nowhere for her to go now.

Issac's grip on her hand tightened.

A moment later, he got to his feet.

Quinn let him lead her over to the very edge of the nearest bed. When he sat down and gestured for her to do the same, Quinn didn't fight it. She just kept watching his face, waiting for the ultimatum that she knew was going to come.

“Quinn,” Issac quietly said, pulling his hand away, “humans can do 'it' right, too.”

Her gaze fell down to her faded jeans.

He took a deep breath and let it out as a quiet sigh.

“I have been around for more years than you can imagine,” he reminded her. Her fingers dug into the palms of her hands. She knew where this conversation was going to go. He was going to dismiss her feelings, too. “During those years, I have made deals with so many humans that even I have lost track of them all. And while some of those contracts were for selfish things, the majority of them were made out of love. I have seen countless humans willing to sacrifice everything to help their friends and family.”

She raised her head. Even though she could barely see past the torrent of tears that were finally streaming down her face, she realized how soft the smile on his face was. It made her want to hug him, but her chest clenched up at the thought. She didn't deserve that right now. After all, she was the one who had made a selfish deal.

She was the one who had wanted to leave her family.

“But what...what if it's not all humans? What if it's just a few of us that can't love the way we're supposed to, and we just keep passing it onto the next generation-”

Quinn gave a startled yelp when Issac pulled her into an embrace.

His grip on her wasn't tight, but she felt like she was melting into his arms. She needed to pull away. She should have pulled away. But no matter how much she kept telling herself that, she wasn't able to convince her sobbing body to move. “Your family will never define you. Your parents made a mistake in how they treated you, but you have continued to be one of the kindest people that I have ever known since the day we first met.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“The only requirement you had to fulfill in our contract was fixing my body,” he said. She closed her mouth. A moment later, she decided to close her eyes, too. If she just focused on the hug, she could pretend that her parents had never been a part of her life. That it had always been Issac and her going from hotel to hotel, wearing the clothes she wanted and never having to smile for strangers. “Even when you discovered that your life could be in danger, you decided that you still wanted to help me.”

“But that was selfish,” she whispered. “I-I just don't know how to be alone...”

Issac pulled back, resting his hands on her shoulders.

She wanted to look away, but she somehow willed herself to meet his gaze. 

His eyes were giving off a gentle glow. The smile still remained on his face. She couldn't understand why, but it seemed like he didn't think she had done something wrong. “Is there a selfish reason for wanting to find Adam and the others?”

She stared.

“I...I...” She faltered. “I thought that if I hadn't run away and had been kidnapped instead, I would have wanted someone to care that I was gone. I would have wanted someone to try to find me. But the decision was selfish, and it still is. Especially after that man told me to stay away. I wantto solve the mystery to prove him wrong.”

Issac got to his feet.

“There is nothing wrong with a little spite,” he said. He moved over to the desk and began to pick up the papers. He placed the last two – the ones on Adam and Gabriel – at the very top of the stack and returned to the bed. Quinn hesitantly moved over to the corner of the mattress to make more room, but he just placed the papers further up the bed. “Your intentions were good, Quinn. They still are. You have always cared about people who most would ignore.”

He grabbed the top two stapled packets.

“...Which is more than I can say about many,” he added, an almost bitter tone to his voice.

Quinn wiped the tears away with the palms of her hands.