Page 41 of Eldritch

Sybil pulled the keys out of her pocket. “How about the attic?”

“I don’t think you need all of us for this, do you, Sybil?” Letisha asked.

“Not at all,” Sybil said. In fact, Sybil loved the idea she’d be alone with Doug.

Letisha sighed. “Good, because I’m heading upstairs for a nap. I’ll be down later.”

Maria threw a conspiratorial smile their way. “Me, too. I’m tired.”

“I’ll go with you, Sybil. I’m curious about the attic and cellar.” Pauline’s grin had a clever slant to it. “These old houses always hide a lot of secrets in both places.”

Sybil’s stomach dropped. She knew the woman had something irritating up her sleeve. She couldn’t say no to Pauline without sounding odd, so she ended up not saying anything.

Sybil headed for the staircase, and they followed. “This way.”

“So, Doug,” Pauline said as they headed up the stairs, her voice perky, “why are you living way out here in the scary woods?”

His deep laugh hit Sybil in all the right places. Soothing, interesting, and dangerous to her equilibrium.

“I inherited a cabin from my uncle,” he said, relaying what he’d already told Sybil. “It’s a good place to escape from everything.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Pauline asked. “There’s not much out here to do.”

“I’m still trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life.”

“I hear that.” Pauline’s voice held a breathy sound. “So, you were in the military?”

“Marines.” His matter-of-fact tone wasn’t boasting but informative.

“Wow. That’s impressive. I can only imagine all the things you went through. Did you see combat?” Pauline asked.

“Yeah.”

Pauline sighed. “Wow. That’s rough. Where?”

“Afghanistan.”

Pauline’s voice rose. “Oh, my God. I don’t know how people do that.”

He didn’t answer. Satisfaction filled Sybil.

Pauline rambled on. “Did you do security work in your job?”

“Well, as the saying goes, I can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you,” he said, his voice flat.

Pauline laughed. “That is so hot. Always did like a man who has a dangerous job.”

They’d reached the third floor, and Sybil noted a change the closer she walked toward the attic stairway at the end of the hall on the west side of the house. The air felt thick. The voices behind her became muffled. Less important. Irritating. She suddenly wanted to shout. Almost did.

Thoughts flew into Sybil’s mind. Deep. Dark. Heavy. Be quiet. It might hear you.

There it was. The door. At the end of the hallway. Something unpleasant might come, but couldn’t say for certain what.

She tightened her grip around the keys as she took the steps to the attic door. Only ten easy steps upward, but her breath hitched like she’d reached her eighty-fifth birthday. A headache started pounding in her temples.

The attic door didn’t appear intimidating. Just an ordinary Victorian era door with a skeleton key lock.

Sybil unlocked the door with ease, and Pauline said, “Abracadabra.”

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