The Demon Boy

Day Eleven - Morning to Midday

     Balor doesn't come into the greenhouse that morning. He's taking the whole 'giving Casper his space' thing more seriously than Casper had given him credit for. At any rate, the lack of disturbances lets him rest easy this morning and through the night. He appreciates the space. He feels more centered for it and, after the day he had yesterday, he needs it.

     But that's enough ruminating. Today's a brand-new day. Best he get his morning affairs in order.

     He balls up his blanket, shoves it in the gap between the seed cabinet and the greenhouse wall. If there's anything recent experience has taught him, it's that this isn't going to be his last night here; better keep a blanket on standby for when he needs to hole up outside the house for a bit. Plus, knowing it's going to get dirty again the next time he uses it gives him an excuse not to wash the damned thing, which is more than can be said about him. He scratches at the dirt that's slipped beneath his shirt while he was asleep. Feels like everything could use a good rinse.

     He leavers open the window to one of the bedrooms from the outside and slips in that way. The less time he spends in the house with Myr and the ill temper that's taken him, the better. If memory serves right, this is the same room he got his shirt from. Sure enough, there's a few more spare sets identical to the one he's wearing, if a good deal cleaner. He grabs one, goes out the way he came, and heads for the river for his washing up. The water's still freezing. The (relatively) fresh change of clothes does little to warm him up, but at least he's not itchy anymore. He shakes the water out of his hair and wonders if sleeping in the dirt is going to give him fleas one of these days. He hopes not. They were a pain and a half back when he had them in the workhouse and he's none too keen on having a relapse.

     Clothes go up to dry and Casper wishes it was that easy to dry off himself, but the prospect of hanging from the branches like a monkey doesn't seem a comfortable one. He does one last inventory check to see if he has everything he needs. Spoon? Check. Rag? Check. Breakfast? Not yet, but he knows where to go to get that. Back to the greenhouse he goes, then it's high time he looks for Balor. A through search of the grounds turns up empty; he can only be inside.

     Casper paces in front of the back door. He tells himself that Myr's unlikely to be up yet, that he'll be fine as long as he doesn't go upstairs, that the rest of the downstairs area should be as safe as the bedroom he snuck into. He tells himself he'll be fine. What he tells himself and what he feels are two entirely different things. In spite of all the best assurances, he isn't convinced. Come hell or high water, in he goes.

     Regardless of his insecurities, absolutely nothing happens. It's the worst. He's left high-strung, second guessing every step, every turn, every move, waiting for the guillotine overhead to drop. Is Myr waiting around the corner? Is Balor? He can't hear anything that would suggest so, but that means scant little in this place. He makes the rounds of the whole floor and, finding not a soul in sight, makes for a break for the back entryway. It's only as he's at the door that he finally catches a hair of Balor, the man himself suddenly appearing in his periphery and scaring the shit out of him. As it turns out, Balor's been sitting peaceably at the kitchen table this whole time. Casper's been jumping at shadows for nothing.

     Balor simply gives him a questioning look. "Feeling apprehensive are we Casper?"

     Casper shushes him loudly. He glances back towards the stairs. No, he's safe. "Be quiet!" He scolds in a whisper. "Do you wanna get me caught?"

     "I take it Myr's ultimatum has unnerved you," Balor frowns.

     You don't say. "Who? Me? Nah. I only get people tellin' me they're 'bout to kill me every other week. Course I'm scared!" He stalks to the table so he doesn't have to be so loud to be heard. Doesn't Balor understand? Myr's going to hear them. He's going to get him caught. "The real mystery here is why the bloody hell are you sittin' here, doin' fuck all like you're waitin' to have tea with the queen!"

     Balor takes the tantrum in stride. "I have had the displeasure of being acquainted with Myr for far too many years than I care for; if there is anything that I have come to know in that time, it is the man's habits and mannerisms. Furthermore, if you find yourself so concerned over waking him, then I suggest you calm yourself as you are the loudest of the two of us."

     "I'll calm down when I can quit worryin' 'bout gettin' strangled in my sleep by that loony!"

     "Myr shall not harm you, given that you perform the role of the subservient as need be to cater to his vanity. You have already played your part wonderfully Casper."

     "Is that a fact?" He seethes. "'Cause it sure as hell didn't look like it." Balor gestures for him to take the seat across from him. He huffs and refuses initially until it becomes clear Balor's not talking until he sits. He takes the chair reluctantly. He looks like a midget on a high chair, always so infuriatingly small compared to everyone else, even Balor. Especially Balor.

     He looks down at him as he talks. "Myr is quite predictable in that, when faced with a potential problem, he will attempt to intimidate as a means of managing the situation. Should he meet no resistance, he will assume he has been successful and is nigh guaranteed to take no further action until he feels it necessary to frighten the opposition into submission again." Balor takes him in, a frightened child, spiteful in all the wrong ways for all the right reasons. "You have given him no such resistance, therefore, as you can plainly see," he gestures broadly to the floor above, "he has taken no action and is quite unlikely to do so for the foreseeable future."

     The speech has done nothing to quell Casper's temper; if anything, it's put more fuel on the fire. "So, you're tellin' me you knew what was up the whole time and you didn't say nuthin', let me sweat the night out, thinkin' I was gonna die? " The volume rises higher and higher with every word said. Myr be damned, Casper's going to wake the dead. "What fuckin' part of that is alright?"

     That wiped the blank look off his face, cracked straight through the deadpan and left a shaken core. At least he's taking him seriously now. "That was not  my intention."

     "Then what? What was it?" Casper screams and the chair screeches back so hard when he stands it just about falls over. "Or were you havin' too much fun pullin' my strings around, playin' me for a puppet?" He stares Balor down, eye to eye because he has had it up to here with all these mind games.

     "Do not accuse me of toying with lives!" Balor stands too and now they're both yelling. Casper must have a death wish. "This is no game and there is no other that understands this better than I."

     "Bullshit! "

     Neitherof them are backing down, not when Casper's life is on the line. It's Myr'sclattering upstairs as he comes to investigate that forces their ceasefire.Casper gives Balor one last glare before he makes a break for it out thekitchen door and into the woods beyond. Balor calls after him on his heels, thensuddenly, inexplicably drops the chase. Casper keeps on running. Runs head longinto another building that'd been swallowed up by the brush as a matter offact. Looks like an ideal place to hide, though it's no longer tenable, whatwith having been reduced to ruins over the course of years, like most things onthe manor grounds. Casper has no intention of following suit and becoming anotherone of the broken objects that overwhelm the place like gravestones. He lingersonly as long as it takes to catch his breath and flees to town.