Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

The chandelier shattered against the floor, crystal flying everywhere.

Maria gave a little scream, the distress in her voice sounding like pain. Sybil turned out of Doug’s arms. A sherd of crystal was stuck in the side of Maria’s ankle and blood had gone everywhere.

“Shit,” Doug said as he started with Sybil toward Maria. “Where’s the first aid kit?”

Sybil started for the door. “In the kitchen.”

“No!” Taggert reached for Sybil’s arm and snagged her with bruising pressure. “You stay.” He pointed at Letisha. “You go. And don’t try anything stupid or I’ll start killing people.”

Hearing his intentions put into stark words chilled Sybil more than the blizzard outside could.

Letisha ran out of the room.

A flurry of activity started as Clarice whipped off her neck scarf and handed it to Doug.

Doug assessed Maria’s ankle. “It looks worse than it is. We can take care of this.”

Letisha ran in moments later with a large first aid box Sybil was glad they’d brought with them when they’d arrived at the house. A flurry of activity started as Doug cleaned and dressed Maria’s wound. Sybil helped, impressed with his skill and aware that Taggert observed every move. She could feel his attention stabbing her in the back. Letisha had brought a broom and dustpan with her as well, and Pauline snagged it and cleaned up the sharp crystal pieces scattered around the room.

Maria wiped away her tears, and Sybil asked, “Are you in much pain?”

Maria shook her head. “No. It scared me more than anything.”

Doug moved back from Maria and snapped the first aid box closed. He turned back to the rest of the room, and Sybil could see the intensity of his disgust for Taggert flicker in his eyes.

Pauline asked, “The chandelier...why did that happen?” Pauline wore a shellshocked expression. She swung toward Sybil. “Why?”

Sybil shrugged. “I’m not certain.”

Clarice cleared her throat and returned to sitting on the couch. “My dear Sybil, you have the answer.”

Pauline pointed at Sybil as a strange panic took over Pauline’s face. “What do you know?”

“Shit,” Letisha said softly. “Oh, God.”

“What?” Maria asked Letisha.

Letisha shook her head. “Please tell me this isn’t your sweet sixteen party all over again, Sybil?”

There it is, Sybil. They will sell you out. Even your friends will sell you out. Anything to survive. To live.

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.”

“I asked them to leave,” Letisha said. “Didn’t do any good. They’d brought their own booze. Started messing up my parent’s house. Before I could call the cops…”

Letisha looked up at Sybil, perhaps realizing she’d hijacked the story.

Sybil wasn’t certain if she wanted to continue. In fact, she really, really didn't want to tell Taggert this.

“I don't know why this is important,” Sybil said, looking at Clarice.

“Because it will help Taggert understand what he's gotten himself into, my dear,” Clarice said.

Sybil produced one of those sounds that could be interpreted as derision and defiance. Her gaze snagged on Taggert's for a moment.

Sybil shivered, remembering so many details about that night she didn't want to, including the fact that she'd ruined her own life in so many ways. Or she'd dented it significantly.

“I didn't want to be there,” Sybil said.

Yes. There. Tell it like it was so even Letisha will comprehend the parts you never expressed to her.

Maybe this was good. Because if Taggert dragged her out of here, she might take comfort in the realization she'd told the complete story to people who mattered. And even to the asshole Taggert. As for Taggert knowing what he was getting into...well, she couldn't guarantee that what had happened at the party would happen again, right?

“ Hey,” Taggert said gruffly. “Get on with it.”

“It was a loud party. Someone kept turning up the music even when I was turning it down. Loud noises of any kind aren't my favorite.”

“That's for sure,” Taggert said, his voice deadpan. “You’ve always been too damned sensitive.”

Too damned sensitive, Sybil. You are so, so weak.

Resentment and hurt spiked inside her. She knew the trigger. She'd felt it so many times she'd lost count. The teenagers at the party absolutely experienced her rage.

But she’d gotten control of her anger over the years, hadn’t she?

Sybil swallowed hard. “The crowd of kids got obnoxious. Half of them were shitfaced before they even arrived.”

“I feel guilty still that I let some of those kids even stay at the party.” Letisha shrugged. “I was a popular cheerleader and wanted to be junior class president. I let a lot of stupid stuff slide that I shouldn't have.” Her expression filled with genuine remorse. “I regret it to this day.”

Any of the slight resentment Sybil might have harbored for Letisha not taking care of business at the party trickled away.

“We were all stupid then,” Sybil said. “We were just sixteen.”

As if she could read Sybil’s mind, Clarice asked, “I imagine you begrudged that a bit, didn't you, Sybil?”

Sybil hesitated before letting it hang out. “For a few years.”

“Can we stop with the soap opera and get to the point?” Taggert asked with an almost whine in his voice.

Sybil's body reacted to his sharp words, her jaw tight enough it ached. She looked at the floor, not wanting to see anyone's expression at this point.

Above them, the ceiling creaked. No one looked at it this time.

“The party was chaotic. People were ignoring me at first. I was invisible. I think it was around one in the morning when these two boys who had a locker next to me...” She almost couldn't force the words out. “They used to stare at me at school and then laugh sometimes, as if they saw something absurd about my mere existence. They did this even before everyone heard about my father. They started following me around the house.”

“Oh, God,” Maria said. “Don't tell me...”

How do we know you aren't like your freak father? How do we know you aren’t going to lose your shit??

Sybil said it out loud. “How do we know you aren't just like your freak father? These boys said this in the living room after following me around the house, throwing disgusted looks at me mixed with amusement. They were enjoying torturing me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Taggert grinned. “Sounds like something I did with this bitch when I was in college?—”

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.”

“It’s true,” Letisha said.

Sybil continued with, “Rich survived. People shunned me in town. Wouldn’t have anything to do with me in school. City officials examined Letisha’s house and said it was some sort of structural fault that caused the whole thing.”

“My parents and I moved out of the while the house while it was repaired,” Letisha said. “They didn’t…my parents didn’t want me to hang out with Sybil. But I did anyway.”

Sybil’s heart warmed at the memory of her friend’s loyalty and managed a smile.

“I can’t believe they did that to you,” Maria said with a gasp. “They actually believed you caused all of that havoc?”

Sybil felt calmer relating the story. “Oh, they wouldn’t put it down officially as poltergeist. I mean, who would’ve believed that? The strain of being treated like an outcast in town…well, I couldn’t do it anymore. I refused to go to school. My mother took me in for an assessment at the hospital and a psychiatrist convinced my mother that I had some severe issues. And in a way, I did. I’d grown up in a household with mental abuse as a daily thing, and my father had just been thrown in jail for being a serial killer. My mother signed the paperwork for me to be placed in a facility for teens with mental illness and off I went. Maybe the best thing that happened to me. I completed the rest of my junior year in the facility. It was like a rescue for me because no more teasing or bullying. You can imagine what my life would’ve been like if I’d been back in school. When I got out after six months, I studied for my GED and completed the rest of high school that way. I never had to step into that place again.”

“Has it happened since?” Pauline asked. “I mean, damage to a structure?”

“Not until we got here,” Sybil said.

“Are the…” Maria cleared her throat. “Are the trees part of that whole…I mean, your abilities?”

Sybil glanced out the window. The trees had moved no closer, thank goodness. “I don’t think so.”

The room went deathly silent. Sybil realized that she’d dropped a bombshell on everyone. None of it erased what could still happen, with Taggert holding a gun on everyone.

Taggert heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I swear to God, Sybil. You are crazy. You and this nutty old lady made all this shit up to stall the inevitable.”

“Clarice, you said it wasn’t in the newspapers about Sybil’s background?” Doug asked as he moved nearer to Sybil. “When I did the background check, I didn’t find anything. And I went pretty deep on the investigation.”

Clarice shrugged. “But I also just know things. I can see things in people. Sense them.” Clarice stood and walked toward Sybil. When she stood in front of her, Clarice said, “This girl is unique indeed. Talented. Strong. There need to be more women like her in the world, Doug.”

Sybil couldn’t appreciate or absorb the compliments.

“Why did you want me to tell that story? To bring up all that pain, Clarice?” Sybil asked. “What was the point?”

Clarice’s broad smile made her white teeth look extra large again, as if the smile belonged to a mask. “Because I wanted you to remember it for the next few minutes. You might need it. I think it’s good to hang on to some anger. What your father did to women and to you. What Taggert did to you.” Clarice cleared her throat. “Well, I think now is the time to take Mr. Taggert down to the cellar and show him where the pirate loot is. Maybe then he’ll see reason.”

Everyone went still as mannequins in a shop window.

Then Taggert said, “Pirate loot. You said money.” He sneered. “I’m not waiting much longer because I’m leaving with Sybil.”

Clarice shook her head, and she stood. She took a few steps toward him until she was within only a few feet of him. Taggert’s right eye twitched a bit. Sybil had witnessed his right eyelid quiver when he was uncertain and floundering to make sense of the world and maintain his power base.

“The wealth and success of my family isn’t only from accumulating paper money,” Clarice said. “We gained many valuables. Jewelry is one of them.” She pulled down the collar of her sweater and displayed a necklace.

The strange necklace from the portraits in the octagon and Annapolis’s necklace.

Clarice continued. “I believe in hiding my wealth in plain sight.” She chuckled. “Well, there are a couple of things that are so precious to me I couldn’t possibly keep them on display. But there’s a price to pay for seeing it. I don’t skip that step for anyone. Not even you, Mr. Taggert. But it will all be worth it when you see it. And you’ll be rewarded handsomely.”

Taggert’s eye twitched again. Fluttering in a way that only enhanced his already out-of-control-fanatic aura. Sybil half expected Taggert to go to thermonuclear.

Taggert sagged the tiniest bit, but he kept the gun pointed at Clarice. She didn’t appear the least intimidated. At her age, though, maybe she’d stopped worrying or caring about death.

“Whatever, lady. We’re heading to the cellar to get the valuables,” Taggert said. “Now.”

Sybil’s mind ran in circles. What valuables could possibly be hidden in the cellar? Wouldn’t the cleaning crew have found it? If Clarice had hidden something down there, why would she have offered it to Taggert?

“You don’t have to do this, Clarice,” Sybil said. “I’ll just go with Taggert now.”

“No,” Taggert said. “I want to see this treasure. But I promise you, old lady, if this is some trick, I’m going to make you all suffer.”

Sybil’s body went cold, then hot. All the vigor seemed to leave her, the fragment of her she’d hoped could find the strength to battle this man.

Oh, Sybil. You see. You always were weak. Weak. Weak.

Sybil said, “Okay. Let’s go.”

Taggert gestured at everyone with the gun. “Everyone line up in this order. First…Clarice. Then Maria, Pauline and Letisha.” He threw Doug a smirk. “And you military cop man…you after that. Then Sybil. I’ll bring up the rear. Anyone gets out of line, I’ll shoot.”

Everyone lined up. Sybil caught Doug’s expression before he lined up in front of her and saw the determination there. Confidence returned in a small way. She knew Doug would try to help them at some point, but for now, he played it safe.

When they came to the cellar, the door was open.

No one else said a thing, including Clarice. The lights flicked on without Clarice reaching for the switch.

Clarice eased down each step with a difficulty Sybil instinctively didn’t believe. Clarice hadn’t seemed that decrepit earlier. She thumped down the steps one by one. Each thud echoed inside Sybil like the drumbeat of someone being led to their execution. Her heart banged in her chest, her breath coming shorter. She recognized the panic and fear and wanted to calm it. She tried one deep breath after another, but the breathlessness refused to ease.

Clarice reached the bottom of the steps and kept moving. Sybil hoped like hell the lights didn’t fail, but she didn’t suggest they turn on the extra solar powered lights either. Clarice continued her trek and turned the corner.

She’s going to the box, isn’t she?

A closed box with treasure? With some unimaginably large monetary value? The box wasn’t large enough to contain much money.

A few moments later, Clarice stopped in front of the box.

“Here we are.” Clarice’s voice seemed almost jubilant they’d arrived in this cold underground. “I thank you ladies for taking care of it for me down here. I recognize how intimidating this space must be. After all, you saw the footprints. Those alone are scary enough.”

Sybil leaned out far enough to see around the others. Clarice’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she continued with, “You see, my past isn’t crystal clean either. I figure this is as good a time as any for you to all know. Especially you, Sybil. Because I understand your feeling of being different. I certainly am.”

“What?” Taggert said with a smirk. “You can make chandeliers fall off ceilings, too?”

Clarice chuckled. “Oh, no. That talent is uniquely hers. My talent comes from a family legacy. You see everyone in my family has always been a freak. Fortunately we’ve been extremely good at hiding it. I didn’t realize it at first, but when I was a little kid my father used to conduct rituals down here.”

“Rituals?” Maria whispered the question, sounding horrified. “Are you…are you saying you’re a witch?”

Clarice’s eyebrows went up, but then she laughed yet again. “Oh, no. In fact, I’ve never met a witch capable of doing what my father could do. Or what I can do. You see most witches follow the ideal of do no harm, do what you will. My father had no compunction about doing harm. He told my mother and I that we were less worthy than men. That we should do and say whatever men commanded.”

“Sounds like my kind of man,” Taggert said.

“Most assured.” Clarice threw a frown his way. “One night I heard this heinous shrieking coming from this cellar. The fact I could hear it that far away in my bedroom upstairs in this house and through so many thick walls…well, even at my young age I understood it was a scream of the utmost suffering. It was a man suffering for a change, so that pleased me.”

“For a change?” Pauline asked.

“Yes. My father used to torture women in the basement,” Clarice said.

“Oh, my God,” Letisha said in a shocked whisper.

Sybil’s shock made her silent. She placed her right hand over her stomach as nausea suddenly roiled within her.

“What?” Taggert said. “You are lying, you crazy old bitch.”

Clarice’s composure remained. “I most clearly am not, young man.”

Taggert started to laugh. “Are you kidding me right now? So you picked Sybil to clean this house because her father was a serial killer?”

“Not at first. But when I did my due diligence and dove into some obscure articles, I realized who she was,” Clarice said. “When Doug did the background check on her then I knew for sure who Sybil was and that she had to come here. You see, I believe her experiences…perhaps even her DNA might allow her to my successor here.”

Shock multiplied for Sybil. “Why?”

Clarice shook her head. “Because it is so poetic. Such an opportunity for justice. And I love justice, Sybil. It’s the sweetest sensation in the world to me. I remember the first time I saw this box. I was only a little girl. When my daddy insisted I help with his transformation. That same night I heard the man screaming, I was drawn to the horrible pain I heard in his deep male voice. I came down into this cellar to see what was happening. It was the best decision I ever made. You see, the man who was screaming had tried to touch me sexually. My father didn’t take kindly to that. So he decided to unleash the thing that was required to extract revenge on the man. After seeing what happened to the man, I knew I must do it for every woman…perhaps anyone who had suffered as I had.”

Sybil’s insides seemed to tremble, her muscles shaking as if she had contracted a fever.

Clarice touched the box, her fingers on each side of the lid. She turned to look at them, her hands frozen. Everyone shuffled until they formed a semi-circle on one side of her. Sybil couldn’t believe Taggert didn’t yell at them for breaking the line. Sybil took a step, which brought her to Doug’s right side. He glanced over at her, and she wanted to reach out to him but didn’t. She thought she saw determination in his gaze before she returned her attention to Clarice.

“I didn’t comprehend what this box was all about at first,” Clarice said. “My parents forbid me to come down here. I’d heard noises coming out of the cellar more than once, but the door was always locked.” Clarice shrugged. “Daddy always said it was our secret and if anyone found out, the police would take our whole family away and we’d never see each other again. You see, those trees out there have grown larger because they know what’s in this house. What is on this land. They’ve been growing larger for a lengthy time. They want to crush this mansion and bury this box, but I won’t let them. The trees have never liked our family. Loathed us, as a matter of fact. They wish to wrap their limbs around this mansion and crush it now that I’ve brought you all into this house. So you see, dear Sybil, your abilities aren’t bringing the trees closer. They’re doing that all on their own.”

“What are you talking about?” Pauline’s question sounded bewildered. “Are you nuts? Just give him the money or treasure, so he’ll leave.”

Clarice ignored Pauline, but she turned toward the little group. “In this box is the entire wealth of my household. The reason my family has prospered for hundreds of years.”

“We don’t need a damned history lesson,” Taggert said. “How could all of your wealth be in that box? Is it one of those NFT things? The key to some Swiss bank account or something?”

Clarice’s grin grew macabre, the insanity creeping closer. “Oh no. It’s the ability to crush our foes. The people who would oppose us. The bad men who would continue to torture women and children with violence and hate and all forms of bigotry. Annapolis was one of us, but she didn’t agree with our family’s way of doing things. The trees might have attacked her, but only because anyone in league with our family is in danger. What is in this box is your adversary, Mr. Taggert. Because you are my enemy. In fact, the foe of every woman.”

“Enough!” Taggert shouted. “Open the damn box. Now!”

Bone deep dread traveled through Sybil in an icy wave, and she questioned if she’d ever be warm again. Whatever was in that damned box wasn’t what Taggert or anyone else understood or expected. Fear spiked inside Sybil. Dread so soul-tearing Sybil didn’t think she could take another minute.

Creak. Creak. Creak.

Sybil and the others looked up at the ceiling. Even Clarice.

Then a moaning…the house sighed. Another moan, even worse than the creaking sent a physical shudder throughout the house. Sybil heard gasps as everyone shifted back from the box.

Maria made a whimper. Pauline grabbed Maria’s arm, either to support her or to feel comfort from touching someone. Sybil craved for Doug to do the same for her. But he needed to be free to move. To take down Taggert if need be.

Mortar loosened between the bricks on the wall near the box and fell to the floor.

“Damn it,” Doug said. “Look, we’ve got to leave before this house collapses. Take the box with you, Taggert, and leave. Cut your losses.”

Taggert laughed. “Hear that, Sybil? Loverboy here wants me to take the box and you and bug out. To save his own skin.”

Sybil didn’t believe it at first, but she heard the voice in her head nonetheless, the one that almost never left her at peace.

Doug will abandon you. He isn’t for you. You’re not good enough for him or anyone else. Not enough to risk his life.

Clarice glared at Taggert. “It isn’t what is in this box that is causing the problem!”

Clarice reached for the lid and pulled it open without a key. For a moment, the air seemed to be suspended. A cone of silence spread until Sybil couldn’t hear anything. Not a shuffle of feet, a cough or sneeze. Not a stomach growl or a whispered word.

“I’m not staying in here!” Pauline turned to run, and Maria took off as well.

Taggert aimed at Pauline and Maria.

“No!” Sybil reached for Taggert’s arm, driving his aim upward into the ceiling.

A loud bang assaulted Sybil’s hearing. She winced, waiting for anything. Anything that might come.

“You bitch!” Taggert swung at Sybil.

His fist impacted Sybil in the stomach and all the air whooshed from her, and she bent double in pain. She tried to suck in air. Nothing came, and even though logic said eventually she’d breathe, she lurched and struggled and thought of death inside this awful cellar. Strong arms came around her, and she caught Doug’s clean scent. He had her.

He didn’t leave me.

Relief struck Sybil at odds with the madness she heard happening around her.

Again the house seemed to shudder, and vibration touched Sybil’s feet.

Maybe the whole place would crumble.

She sucked in one life giving breath and threw out a plea.

Trees. Please. We have to be out of here. Please don’t kill us. Please let us out. Me and my friends are not your enemies!

Sybil heard a shuffling. So many voices at once.

Doug cursing under his breath as he pulled Sybil to standing position and into his arms.

Letisha crying out. Maria and Pauline’s terrified voices mingling.

Then a terrible silence for one millisecond before…

“Jesus! Oh sweet Jesus!” This time Taggert. But not in disgust or anger, but in outright penetrating panic.

Another sound that made little sense to Sybil. A shriek, but not a human one. A fish flopping on the wet floor, the squelch and squish of something slimy and the disgusting odor to go with it.

“Yes!” came Clarice’s triumphant cry.

Sybil sucked in a painful breath as she looked toward Clarice and the box. What she saw threatened to knock the breath from her again.

Clarice stood next to something abysmal. Something that should not exist outside of eldritch tales. The horror was far taller than Clarice, far larger than any of them, and almost touching the eight-foot ceiling.

Sybil understood in that second so many things she didn’t want to know. Clarice had opened the box and from that small space a dark gray monstrosity had emerged to stand in apparent solidarity with the old woman. Sybil hadn’t seen it exit the box. She had only heard the exclamations of horror coming from the others.

The design on the box, and the necklace Clarice and Annapolis wore around their necks, depicted this very being. A bulbous head, not unlike an octopus, crowned the creature. The many tentacled monster with slimy arms filled with suckers could drag anyone toward a heinous mouth hidden somewhere on its body. This abomination could destroy flesh. In the few seconds she had to take it in, Sybil noted the rough appearance of the thing’s reptilian-like skin and perhaps the hint of a tail dangling from the back. Small dark eyes, not much larger than a human’s, peered out at the horrified audience. Sybil stared for too long into the creature’s eyes, and a sudden and terrible panic threatened to send her running.

No. No.

This entity, obviously, had been the one traveling along the floor in the cellar and even in the attic. But how? Why?

Taggert asked, his voice shaking, “What in all mighty God is that?”

Clarice watched the captive audience, glee in her wide eyes. “Behold the elemental Heysooth that my family has worshiped since our ancestors set foot on the Massachusetts shore in 1634. We have ruled far and wide in business, commerce, love, money, you name it, we have had it all.” She held her arms straight up to the sky as if hailing something. “We have traveled all over the world and came to rest in Colorado in the 1800’s. Here, we have increased our holdings, our power. It is up to me to pass on this legacy to someone worthy.” Clarice smiled at them as if they should all feel happy with this bizarre news. “To have all there must be sacrifices from time to time. My father showed me that when I came down to this cellar all those years ago as a child and saw this creature shredding and consuming the man my father had caught trying to harm me. The trees loved us for that, but I think they’ve changed their minds about this mansion and maybe even me.” She sighed. “Truthfully, I have neglected to appease Heysooth for far too long.”

The only sound that filled the cellar was the creatures deep, rasping breaths.

Sybil took the opening and asked, her voice trembling, “Did the…did Heysooth kill Annapolis?”

Regret filled Clarice’s face. “Yes, but only because she was against what has been happening all these years. I would’ve passed on Heysooth and the family legacy to her. But her actions over the years, her rejection of me and our family proved she couldn’t be the one who received the power Heysooth gives us. Everything in this house and all the wealth we’ve accumulated would have disappeared. She probably would’ve given it away to some undeserving person. Perhaps to some horrible creature like Taggert…who knows what she would’ve done?”

Sybil almost choked on her next words. “Then you fed her to Heysooth?”

“Well, in point-of-fact, I did,” Clarice’s voice filled with unhappiness. “You see, Heysooth isn’t bound only to this house. No, Heysooth can go wherever it wishes.” She pointed to Taggert. “It can follow you wherever it wants, as long as someone in my family controls it. Or someone I designate as family.”

“Lady, you are shit all crazy,” Taggert said, as he shook his head, his voice cracking and fear still plastered on his face.

Clarice’s laugh came out as a cackle. “It doesn’t matter what you think of me. You have no power here. Ladies, you have nothing to dread, for I am here to save you from this heinous pimple Taggert. Doug, you are a fine man and have nothing to fear from me or Heysooth unless you interfere.”

Sybil’s heartbeat continued to throttle high, leaving her breathless and every muscle in her body on hypervigilance. Rage surged higher inside her every moment. Doug still held her, and her fingers clutched at his biceps, holding on for dear life.

“Why?” Sybil said through her tight throat. “Why did your family worship this…and where did they find it?” She almost didn’t dare to ask. “Where does it come from?”

Clarice smiled. “That is a lengthy story, my dear. We found it by accident in Massachusetts, but there are many entities like Heysooth all over the world. Surely you didn’t think there was only one?” Clarice waved one hand in dismissal. “I’d hoped to tell you all about it soon, but it seems Taggert has sped up the timeline considerably and forced my hand. You may think I am horrible, but I am only keeping you safe.”

“What are you planning?” Doug’s voice sounded rough. His arms fell away from Sybil.

Clarice ignored him and held one finger up. “Maria. Pauline. Letisha. You may leave the cellar. Grab your winter wear and basic valuables and sit in the van.”

“I’m not leaving Sybil here,” Letisha said, fear widening her eyes.

Clarice shook her head. “She is staying for now. She won’t come to any harm.”

“No.” Letisha stepped forward. “I’m not leaving her.”

“Letisha!” Sybil turned to her friend. “Please. Take the other ladies. I’ll be fine. I’ll be out as soon as I can. Please.” Letisha shook her head, her mouth opening to protest again. Tears sprung to Sybil’s eyes. “Do as Clarice says. Please. ”

Perhaps Letisha understood in that moment that to do anything else would prove to be suicide. Tears spilled down Letisha’s face, but she nodded and ran with Maria and Pauline.

Taggert also didn’t move, perhaps too dumbfounded to recognize what to do.

“Sybil, my dear,” Clarice said with the beatific smile. “You are to be my student. I didn’t have children, so you will replace me as the overseer of this mansion and the priestess of Heysooth. I’ve already changed my will and you will inherit this mansion and all the contents. I see now that it was unwise to think I could sell this house. Heysooth has consumed so many people who entered here over all the years. They were Heysooth’s nutrition. The life.”

Heysooth grew taller, its breathing became louder, the strange sounds rumbling from it far more disturbing than anything Sybil had heard in her life. Her trepidation expanded with it, and she discerned make or break time had come.

“The family that was renting from you last,” Sybil said. “Were they consumed by Heysooth?”

“Yes. But time is catching up with me, and I need some worthy person to take over this calling. As long as you feed Heysooth, all will be well for you and for Doug…if you choose Doug as your partner. If you reject him or he rejects you, I’m afraid the consequences could be severe. We can’t have him telling what he’s seen, even if I think he’s an honorable, amazing man. Heysooth, it is time to feed.”

Taggert lifted his arm to shoot. Time seemed to halt.

Instinct kicked in for Sybil as the creature swung toward Taggert, its body making sloshing, awful noises she couldn’t have defined if anyone had asked her to explain them. There were too many questions, too many things she wanted to understand. A decision had to be made.

No time. No time.

Earsplitting gunshots came from Taggert’s semi-automatic pistol as he screamed and attempted to escape Heysooth’s attack. The creature didn’t flinch. It reached out.

Before she could blink, Heysooth enveloped Taggert. Taggert’s screams ceased as Heysooth’s tentacles jammed the man into its body until only his legs dangled below the creature’s massive bulk and blood splattered across the floor.

Crunching sounds. Slurping. A human body being destroyed and consumed.

Doug grabbed Sybil and yanked her away, and they ran.

Sybil expected to suffer the heinous destruction of the beast’s arms taking her down and crushing her to bits.

Any minute now. Any minute now. Death, death, death.

She reached the top of the stairs with Doug barreling along behind her. The door at the top stood wide open, and in that second, it felt a million miles away. The door slammed in her face.

She would’ve fallen backwards, but Doug held her up.

Fury boiled inside her. The scream that came out of her ripped into her own ears, so loud. So damn loud. “Open!”

The door flew open, and they ran out and into the Great Hall.

They turned around in time to see Heysooth, blood still dripping from its underside, its breath sending a stinking wave of death toward them. Sybil gagged.

Clarice came from behind the creature and stood next to it. “Sybil, this is your last chance, my dear. Please.”

Clarity hit Sybil. More powerful and sure than anything she’d faced before.

The house did more than groan. The floor under them trembled, and then the walls cracked. The chandelier in the ceiling swayed, causing the metal to screech as it was tested.

“I’m not sorry Taggert is gone,” Sybil yelled. “I won’t mourn him. I wish that justice could consume every man who harmed a woman.”

Satisfaction filled Clarice’s expression. As if she’d won.

Sybil looked at Doug. “Leave now while you still can!”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you!”

Sybil turned back to Heysooth, and Clarice and something directed her. She didn’t know how or why. She put her hands out toward them, and a scream ripped from her throat. It was earsplitting.

The sound of a woman. Many women. All brought to their last nerve, their last tolerance, their last chance filled with all the anger that had come before and existed now.

Heat and energy bucked out of Sybil, and she staggered back just as the ceiling collapsed and the floor buckled under Heysooth and Clarice and they plunged into the cellar.

Doug grabbed her hand and raced toward the front door. The mansion wailed an almost human protest, its structure feeling, seeing and hearing enough over the decades. Time to die.

They dashed out of the front door. They turned and stopped to look at the house as the ladies piled out of the van.

The house shuddered, and the anger and terror inside Sybil hadn’t eased. Her whole body trembled with that power, undiminished. Not finished.

She heard a rumbling, but this time as if a beast bellowed, determined to acquire revenge.

“It’s not dead,” Sybil said.

She didn’t care if it killed her. She wasn’t letting it devour Doug or her crew.

She held up her hands and allowed all her wrath to surge toward the building. She staggered as the effort expanded and surged from her in waves toward the structure. Again, the house moaned, creaked, shivered as if the wrath of a goddess seized it in a terrible tantrum. The house crumbled inward. A loud groan echoed from the forest. Trees nearest the building moved forward, their enormous branches battering the walls.

The house collapsed in on itself.

Doug and Sybil linked hands and rushed past the van.

The other women scampered after them, and they plunged into the knee-deep snow to put over fifty yards between them and the structure.

An incredible roar, so loud it hurt Sybil’s ears, echoed from the building. She put her hands over her ears and watched the mansion disintegrate. Doug’s arms came around her, and she savored the shelter. The other women clustered collected and linked arms. Sybil closed her eyes, her entire body shivering with a bone-rattling cold.

With a last groan, the house stilled. When Sybil opened her eyes, the mansion had collapsed down to less than a full story. The constant clank and wheeze of the settling building heralded the end. Enormous trees eased back from the rubble, their branches swaying and moaning.

Letisha came over as Doug released Sybil. Sybil noted her friend’s tearful face, and they hugged tight.

“Jesus, girl,” Letisha said. “Did you do all that?”

Sybil pulled back just as Maria and Pauline came up, their expressions a mix of shock and fear.

Sybil managed the smallest relief-filled laugh. “I think I did.”

“I hope I never get on your bad side,” Pauline said with a lopsided smile as she wiped away tears.

“Me either,” Maria said.

A tremor still thrummed like a tuning fork inside Sybil that couldn’t yet settle.

Sybil returned to stand near Doug. “We need to go.”

“Where?” Pauline asked.

Sybil gave the ruined house one more look. “Estes Park.”

Doug held up his phone. “Still no signal.”

“Wait.” Maria looked alarmed. “What do we tell them when we get there?”

Sybil locked gazes with Doug and said, “That the building collapsed, killing Clarice. She was in the cellar when it happened and the rest of us barely escaped.”

Doug nodded. “Let’s go. The snow has stopped.”

Doug and Sybil led the way in his truck, while Letisha, Maria and Pauline took up the rear with the van.

As they turned onto the snowy road leading back to Estes Park, Sybil and Doug held hands.