Page 118 of Eldritch

Mr. Taggert,” Clarice barked the words. “Let her finish.”

Sybil flinched, half afraid he'd react violently to the old woman's reprimand. Instead, he smiled.

Sybil hurried. Maybe, like ripping a bandage off, this would prove less torturous.

Sybil rubbed the back of her neck as the muscles there tightened until it hurt. “I stayed in the living room where there were a lot of kids. Letisha was out by the pool, so she didn't know what was happening. This one boy, Rich Emberly...he turned off the music and started asking me what the hell I was doing there. He said no one wanted me there. Not even Letisha.”

Letisha's eyes widened. “You didn't tell me he said that.”

Sybil shrugged. “I knew it wasn't true. Sure, you were popular, and I wasn't. But I also realized you were a genuine friend.” Tears came into Sybil's eyes. She suppressed them with supreme effort. “Some of the other kids started laughing and throwing questions at me. Why didn't I just leave? Why didn't I hang myself because my father was evil and that meant I had to be evil.” She shuddered at the memory. “Now I can’t remember most of the things they said to me.” She glanced at Letisha and gave her friend a little smile. “Most likely would've turned out worse, but Letisha came in right then and told them to stop. She ordered them out of the house, but I was so damned mad I considered leaving, too. Walking all the way home even if I had to hitchhike.” Sybil heaved a sigh. “One girl...this popular girl on the cheerleading squad walked past me and pretended to trip. She dumped an entire cola down the front of my dress. A dress I loved. I was humiliated and started for the bathroom. Before I could get there, Rich and his friend waylaid me. They walked me backwards into a bedroom. They were leering.” Sybil had to take a gulping breath, realizing she’d rattled the words off way too fast. “I thought they were going to…”

Sybil's eyes burned, and she wanted to cry, knowing how the others might react once she’d finished her story.

“Do what?” Pauline asked in a hushed tone.

Sybil said, “Rich reached out for me. I thought he had rape in mind.”

“That piece of shit,” Doug said harshly.

When she dared look at Doug, she saw fury transform his eyes. In most other men, she’d find this transformation terrifying. In his, she saw Doug’s desire to create retribution for her. Had Rich been in front of Doug at that moment, she could only imagine what Doug might have done.

“He didn’t get a chance,” Sybil said, wanting to reassure Doug she hadn’t suffered a physical attack.

Relief flooded his face, but he didn’t speak.

Maria and Pauline appeared shellshocked, perhaps sympathizing. Taggert’s mouth hung open, as if he expected more juice to the story. Well, he was right. There was definitely more.

Sybil’s gaze locked with Letisha’s, and Letisha made an almost imperceptible nod.

“We heard these weird noises in the house,” Letisha said. “The ceiling cracked above us. Someone yelled we were having an earthquake. A moment later Sybil came running back into the living room.” Letisha hesitated. Started again. “The light fixture on the ceiling came loose from the ceiling, but it didn’t fall.”

“That’s…” Pauline said but didn’t finish.

“What happened next?” Maria asked.

“Sybil was scowling.” Letisha paced a little, as if the memory of what happened traumatized her as well. “She had…”

“They said I had red eyes,” Sybil said with a choked voice. “Did I, Letisha?”

She knew the answer, but somehow had to hear it again.

“No.” Letisha shook her head. “No. Then the wall in the room cracked. Rich came stumbling down the stairs and when Sybil saw him, he said, ‘This bitch is the devil. We should burn her ugly ass at the stake.’

“That motherfucker,” Doug said.

Taggert started laughing. Sybil turned toward Taggert and felt the burn rising higher inside her, but she drew in one big breath and then another to hold it down. When Sybil glared at him, he stopped laughing and sobered.

Sybil continued her story. “The chandelier fell. When it hit the living room floor, a shard of it came loose and struck Rich in the neck. He was screaming and people were scrambling to call 9-1-1. Everyone stumbled out of the house. While we were waiting for the cops, the neighbors next door with medical training kept Rich from bleeding out. The house was still creaking and cracking and some tiles fell off the roof. The fire department came roaring up along with the police.” Sybil took a breath and shivered. “The whole time there were these group of cheerleaders who were telling Letisha that I’d done something to the house.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Pauline said. “Did they watch too many X-Men movies?”

“But it isn’t stupid,” Clarice said. “Because it’s true, isn’t it, Sybil?”

“What the hell are you saying?” Taggert asked. “You think Sybil made the house fall apart, and that chandelier hit the kid in the throat?”

Clarice nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. She creates poltergeist activity. Probably the strongest activity that has ever been seen.”

Taggert shifted on his feet, amusement curving his lips. “Right. Sure.”

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