The Demon Boy

Day Four - Evening

     The boy spends the better part of an hour lost in thought. He gets frustrated, then bored, eventually settling in front of his favourite window. Through it, he watches the drizzle stop. He watches the clouds clear. He watches the shadows grow. He carves another notch on the sill with his silver spoon, then ponders when it became his spoon instead of just a spoon.

     The thought is immediately dismissed. He's a thief for crying out loud. If he's gotten away with stealing something for so long, it becomes his something. That means the spoon belongs to him and nobody can persuade him otherwise.

     In summary, the boy is tired of milling about his room with nothing to do. And that is why he, despite all else that's happened, decides to go exploring.

     He opens the door a crack and scouts the hall through the slim opening. He stands a little straighter, a little more confident, he sees no one outside. He hears Myr shuffling above him, but it doesn't seem like the drunk will be coming down in a hurry. He's not inclined to meet him either. They can stay separated on their respective floors, thank you very much. As for the foreigner, who knows where he is? The boy certainly doesn't. Wherever the silent man is, it isn't here. This leaves the boy alone and, more importantly, unattended. He's free to do as he pleases.

     He gently closes the door behind him. He doesn't want to bring Myr down on his head by making too much noise. In fact, he would be perfectly happy to never see Myr again. And so, he quietly stalks down the corridor, pressing himself against the walls and lurking around corners. He does reconnaissance in perfect silence. His survey is thorough and the fruits of his labour consist of the entire downstairs area.

     He finds two other bedrooms nearby. They're carbon copies of his own. Across the hallway, he finds a coat room colonized by moths under the stairs. Next to it, he nearly falls into a yawning stairwell descending into the bowels of the house. Does Myr have a dungeon? He closes the door on the stairs beneath the stairs. He'd rather not find out.

     He moves on.

     He finds a study in disarray at end of the corridor opposite the kitchen. There are empty bottles strewn around the room, which means Myr spends time here. Describing how close his sleeping quarters is to one of Myr's haunts as worrisome would be a gross understatement. The foreigner knows where he spends the night too. Perhaps it's time to move? He'll need to find a place to move to first. This visit to the study has given him much to consider.

     He shuts the door and tiptoes into the main hall, travels along it, and turns into a branching corridor. The sitting room is on the boy's left and a massive dining room to his right. In between the two are more dead plants in pots.

     He rummages through the sitting room first, noting every place to hide, every shining bauble. He makes funny faces at the stuffed bear in the corner, pretending it doesn't scare him, like many other things in the house. When he passes in front of the chesterfields, he stops altogether. He looks long and hard at the water stain on one of them. The sight gives him mixed feelings, none of which he can name.

     He doesn't want to be here anymore. He leaves for the dining room.

     The dining room has two large banquet tables stretching its length. The boy walks the aisle that separates them, dividing the room in two neat halves. Chairs are neatly pushed in, placed along all sides of each table. The tablecloth is covered in dust, like most things in the manor. The boy lifts a corner of it to peer underneath. There's lots of space under the tables, even with the chairs pushed in. He could comfortably crawl under and cross the room that way without a soul knowing he's there. Not even the floorboards would tattle on him, muffled as they are by the worn carpet that spans the area.