Page 116 of Eldritch

Sweat broke out on her body despite the chill in the room, and her stomach clenched.

No Letisha is your friend. She’s afraid. She would never sell you out.

“What the hell are you people talking about?” Taggert growled his question.

Clarice held her hands up. “Everyone calm down. Sybil, tell everyone what happened when you were sixteen.”

How did the old lady know what happened? Just from researching the newspapers. No. The real truth was never in the newspapers. No one would’ve believed it.

Sybil drew in a deep breath.

How will I play this?

Sybil had always sculpted her life to survive whatever the world threw at her. No matter how maladaptive those techniques proved. Yet maybe there came a time where not speaking the truth meant that the world at large had won. Her parent’s cruelty had won. The bullies in school had prevailed. What would it matter now, when all their lives dangled on the edge of a precipice, if she told the truth? How much worse could it become?

Oh, Sybil, are you sure you want to come clean? What if they abandon you? Hate you? Fear you?

Clarice sighed. “If you won’t tell them, I will, Sybil. Even Doug doesn’t know about this one. It’s not the sort of thing you find in major newspapers, is it?” Clarice shrugged her small shoulders. “Well, I suppose some sort of rag might have published it back then if they’d believed it actually happened.”

Sybil’s body trembled for a moment. Trepidation edging a little higher. She looked at Letisha and saw regret in her friend’s eyes. Regret for opening her mouth?

“I don’t understand what any of what is going on now has to do with when I was sixteen,” Sybil said.

Clarice sighed yet again. “Because it explains the chandeliers swaying in the house.”

Sybil’s unease evolved toward resentment. “How did you know about the party, Clarice? If it wasn’t widely reported.”

“I have my ways,” Clarice said, her voice deadpan. “My dear, I’m not blaming you for what happened. People who understand these things wouldn’t. They’d understand why it happened. After all, those kids were little shits and deserved to have the poop scared out of them.”

Sybil almost laughed. An inappropriate laugh, to be sure, but it would have satisfied her on a deep level.

Sybil swallowed hard, her throat so constricted she struggled to speak. “Their parents didn’t think it was okay, did they?” Sybil turned her gaze to Letisha. “You were the only one who stood by me. The only one.”

Letisha’s eyes watered and tears ran down her face. “I…I’m sorry I brought it up. That was…” She wiped her face with her hands.

“Jesus Christ on a stick,” Taggert growled. “Will someone tell us what the hell this has to do with anything?”

“Language, son,” Clarice said.

He turned on her. “What? You worried about being all right with the Lord now? I think you’re more of the devil.”

Clarice threw back her head and laughed. “You’ve never seen the devil, Mr. Taggert.” She waved one hand. “Tell them, Sybil. I think Taggert is too curious to put off now.”

Sybil shivered. “Okay. I’ll give you the short version.”

Taggert’s animosity seemed to drop as he lowered his weapon marginally. Maybe Clarice had some wild idea that talking about the sweet sixteen party would disarm Taggert long enough that someone could wrestle the weapon from him? She glanced at Doug and saw a desire to understand, but also a guardedness. Maybe after she explained he’d hate her. Think she had lost her ever-loving mind. But what choice did she have? She was tired of running from it.

Sybil walked to the couch where she’d reclined earlier and sat down. “All my life I’ve been different. I have mediumship and psychic abilities. Mostly hidden from everyone since I was a kid. My parents didn’t believe it. The one time I mentioned it to them when I was about five years old…they mocked me. That was a big thing for them. Mostly my father. My mother would play along if she felt threatened enough. Once I heard her tell my father she thought I’d come out damaged from birth. As I got older, the gaslighting and abuse piled up from my parents. Kids teased me and bullied me. I never understood why.” She shrugged. “I could take some guesses, but we don’t have time for a full therapy session.” She drew in a shuddering breath as anxiety rose inside her. “Letisha and I have been best friends since we were very little. She’s the only friend I’ve got that witnessed it all from beginning.”

Sybil paused and took the temperature in the room. Letisha continued to cry. Maria and Pauline wore mutual expressions of surprise and doubt. Doug’s expression didn’t give away a thing, and that disturbed Sybil. Taggert’s mouth hung open, and his eyes reflected fear. A tiny jolt of satisfaction strengthened her voice as she said, “After they arrested my father for murder, everyone knew I was his daughter.” The cops tried to keep my name out of things, but somehow it leaked out. My father was huge news under the name Slasher Killer…Slasher Killer because after he raped women, he’d slit their throat or if he didn’t do that, he’d shoot them in the head. Countless true crime podcasts and documentaries were made about him.”

She paused, unsure if she could continue.

“Come on,” Taggert. “What happened?”

The interest in his eyes made her wish she’d revealed it to him early in their relationship. Maybe the fact her father had been a notorious serial killer would’ve scared him off, and she wouldn’t have experienced his brand of idiocy and cruelty at any point.

“Letisha organized a sixteenth birthday party for me at her house,” Sybil said. “A bunch of kids she didn’t invite showed up after the party started. About forty kids when she’d expected ten.”

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