Page 103 of Eldritch

Sybil headed toward the octagon entrance as relief quickened her steps. She unlocked the door and threw it open. Snow blew across the entrance.

“Doug, thank goodness,” she said as he entered in a rush. Snow dusted his outerwear, and he had a military green duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s nasty out there,” Doug responded as she locked the door behind him. He set the duffle on the floor, shoved back the hood on his parka and drew off his sock hat. He frowned and peeled off his gloves and stuffed them in a pocket. “Glad you guys didn’t go out in this. My driveway is filling up and this one isn’t much better. You okay?”

Warmth filled her. “We’re fine. Sorry…I should have said stay where you were…”

Guilt. That tape that said she must be culpible for everything rose inside her.

Oh, Sybil. So fragile. So unable to deal with complications. So unsure of yourself.

She almost said it out loud. For her mother to shut up. But she stopped that in time.

“No. I’m glad I came,” Doug said.

Before Sybil could reply, Clarice entered the octagon.

“Doug, so glad you made it here safely,” Clarice said. “Let’s offer him something hot to drink before.”

For a moment, the seriousness left his eyes. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Doug put his winter wear in the coat room nearby and entered the Great Hall with his duffle in hand.

“That’s very sweet of you to be concerned about us.” Clarice patted his arm, her tone as soft as a grandmother talking to her favorite grandson and as nonplussed as a woman without a care in the world. “Why don’t we go back into the parlor where it’s more comfortable?”

Once in the parlor he sat in a chair. Sybil took a seat closest to him with a side table and lamp between them while the others selected places on the couch.

“Look,” he said. “There are additional things Clinton found out just before I came over here. About Annapolis’s murder.”

Sybil’s heartbeat quickened as apprehension settled in her stomach like a rock.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths waiting for him to elaborate.

“We’re dying here,” Pauline said. “Tell us already.”

“Clinton’s source at the medical examiner’s office briefed him on disturbing new details.” Doug turned his gaze to Sybil. “Worse than what I mentioned on the phone earlier.”

If someone had poured ice down her back, Sybil couldn’t have felt colder. She rubbed her arms.

He winced. “As I mentioned before Annapolis was crushed around her ribcage. But then she was torn in half.”

“Oh my God,” Pauline said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Letisha’s statement rose in tone, her face filled with disbelief.

Maria groaned. “That is just…horrible.”

Sybil shook her head. “No way. Someone couldn’t do that. Not with their bare hands. I mean, maybe someone exceptionally heavy could’ve laid on her and crushed her somehow. Are they saying that’s what someone did?”

Doug sat back in his chair, his eyes filled with deep concern. “Clinton didn’t elaborate on the exact details. He got the feeling no one understood how it was done. But it didn’t sound like it was done by bare hands.”

Letisha stuffed her fingers in her hair and directed her stare toward Clarice. “I don’t even know what the hell to think. This is so crazy. Everything that is happening in this mansion. In the forest around here. It is crazy.”

Sybil’s mind didn’t want to operate, a hollow unable to process. Paralysis frustrated and angered her. A rising low-grade anxiety made Sybil’s stomach roil, but then she took what she’d learned in therapy and brought her attention to the present.

Come on Sybil. You can fix this type of situation. You always do. You’re always competent. Always reliable. Always the woman with the right idea. Despite what mother and father always said. It’s your superpower.

Clarice stood. “Thank you for rushing here to see if these young ladies were all right.”

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