James slept in that morning. He could feel his pillow beneath him, a perfect cushion. No imperfections, he thought drowsily as he began to wake. No imperfections, just as Mamma liked it. A slight wind whispered through the halls of the now vacant mansion. It was so quiet now. After that night, those demanding chants stayed with the boy. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He was scared that man would be there. Of course, he knew it was irrational for a stranger to follow him into his room. But, then, a man with actual antlers was about as irrational. Maybe, James thought, maybe it was a really fancy hat. 

     He was more awake, now that he had had time to think. Where was mamma? This house was always loud in the morning, with his mom barking instructions at Sallia. But as he strained his ears, he couldn’t hear a sound. The chirp of sparrows outside barely penetrated through the thick glass of his windows. Again, he was reluctant to call out, still fearing the man. 

     The fear overtook his curiosity and he opened his eyes. The room was empty. Of course it was. Ronald slept next door. The velvet curtains were still. A little disoriented, James tried to sit up. He felt a searing pain in his left forearm. He hissed through his teeth trying as hard as he could to not scream. “Don’t show fear,” he muttered. “Mother doesn’t like it when you show fear.”

     The pain ebbed as he lay still. With the amount of pain there was, he wouldn't have doubted a broken bone. Yet looking over, feeling his arm, he could move it. Not a break, he thought. I wouldn’t be able to move it if it was broken. 

     The tattoo. That had to be it. It hurt like hell last night when Ronald said…well, ‘said’ wouldn’t be the right word. Whatever that vile sound was, it wasn’t human speech. What had he said about his friends?