A/N: I know, I know. It's been way too long. I'm sorry. School has started and my procrastination has been taking over nearly everything. And one class, in particular, is about to kill my GPA. Yay for AP European History! :(

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I'll try not to let the next one take so long to get out.

James awoke early in the morning to the sound of creaking with an occasional soft thump. He heard Thomas's footsteps in the main room as he got up. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. In the middle of the floor was a man tied to a chair. His was struggling against his bonds, crying out as the tight ropes bit into his wrists.

Thomas was standing on the other side of the room, watching the stranger's struggle. James could only watch as Thomas made his way over to the unfamiliar man, dagger in hand. James glanced at the table, taking in the sight of the newest entry. Blake Wembley. His eyes couldn't help but run over the entry above Blake's name as well. His own name was there. And, according to that date, he had two days to live.

James looked back at Thomas, who was now standing right behind Blake, gathering the man's shoulder-length brunette hair in his hand. Blake trembled in fear, not making a sound. Thomas raised his dagger, then sliced Blake's hair off. He let the hair fall to the ground, smoothing out Blake's choppy new haircut.

"Thomas…" James nearly whimpered, "What are you doing?"

Thomas didn't reply, but it was not like James had expected him to. He simply ran the side of the blade up Blake's cheek, stripping the skin of the stubble that had grown. A small drop of blood oozed from a prick; James could only stare at it as it ran down the other man's chin and became a stain on his white blouse.

Suddenly, Thomas stepped back. Both of the others watched him as he gestured for James to come to him. James obeyed hesitantly. He apprehensively let Thomas place the blade in his hand and wrap his fingers around the handle. Thomas's own hand guided James's back to Blake as he made James just barely drag the warm metal over the other's throat with just shy of the force needed to draw blood.

James pulled back under Thomas's navigation. Both James and Blake had their eyes squeezed tightly shut as they trembled. James barely had time to take a breath before he felt his own arm being thrown forward and a gush of warm liquid spill everywhere. And the sound… James felt sick.

Thomas let go of James to disinterestedly let his newest victim die. As soon as Blake had stopped writhing in his bonds, Thomas untied him. He made quick work of the blood-soaked clothes until the fresh corpse was completely naked. He picked up his dagger, which was then laying on the floor, once again. Swiftly, he carved a shallow 'T' just below his navel. Finally and without the slightest flinch, he picked up the body and brought it outside to dispose of it.

James could only throw up as Thomas used the new stack of clothes to soak up the blood, then took them outside to meet the same fate as their old owner.

James felt a hand resting firmly on his back. He looked up to see Thomas dourly staring down at him.

The look didn't last long, as Thomas soon abandoned it to scribble down the scar in his log.

James wiped his mouth on his sleeve and gagged again. He had known that Thomas was ruthless, but actually seeing him in action was much worse than he could have imagined.

He wiped his eyes on his other sleeve. "Kill me, Thomas…" He whimpered pathetically. "Please… I don't want this anymore. End it."

As if he were about to give into James's begging, Thomas wrapped his hand around James's throat, quickly pinning him against the wall. James gasped desperately as spots began to dance across his vision before Thomas removed his hand and let him fall to the ground.

James only panted softly for a moment before himself back to his feet. As soon as he did, the side of his head met Thomas's elbow, leaving a throbbing pain. He whined and rubbed his head.

Thomas took him by the arm, definitely digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise him, He dragged him into James's bedroom, nearly tossing him onto the bed before storming out.

James couldn't move (or sleep, for that matter) all night. He just lied on his bed and waited to hear the hooting of owls or the chirping of crickets.

He snuck out of his room and made his way to Thomas's room. He opened the door as quietly as he could and ducked behind the desk, crouching in case Thomas woke up. He waited for several minutes before reaching over and taking one of Thomas's knives from the desk.

With the knife in his grasp, he went back to his own room. He stopped for a moment to ponder if he could make a run for it now, but he knew that the front door was very loud by design and that Thomas was a light sleeper. With how out of shape he was and how fast Thomas was, it was unlikely that he would get far.

He lied back down. He thought about possibly taking on Thomas, but he wasn't sure that he would be able to. Sighing, he tucked the knife under his pillow and tossed and turned for the rest of the night.