The colorful twin-sized sheets were cool to the touch welcoming Bryce’s six-year-old skin to settle in and relax. His mother quietly recited his favorite bedtime story from memory. It was a nightly ritual: a bubble bath, a few sips of water, The BFG and then sleep. For a while. His mother had her own routine after Bryce fell asleep: a steaming shower, three shots of whiskey and a crucifix. Soon the screams from her son’s sleeping body would jolt her into action. That Bryce believed he’d dreamt the scary dark man with the glowing red eyes was her only comfort. He’d never know the beast she’d summoned years ago was there to collect his soul.