Free Fishing in Brains for an Eye with Teeth (Thirteen Tales of Terror) by William Markly O'Neal Page B

Crazy Bitch .  She again heard people weeping, although not as many, and their sobs didn’t echo the way they did in the sanctum.  Above everything, the noise of the storm was much louder now.  Lightning struck close by and the crack of thunder was so loud, she jumped, causing a shudder to rock the mattress.
    Talytha closed her eyes.  She didn’t want to see.  She didn’t want to know.
    She couldn’t think straight and she didn’t want to.
    She only caught a glimpse before she closed her eyes but she knew she was in the Painter’s bedroom.  At the foot of the bed was another canvas on an easel where the nude madman was painting the portrait that would capture her body and soul. 
    At least two other men were in the room.  She saw the Sheriff seated at a desk, looking at a computer screen, mouse in hand.  She also saw Lummox, sitting in a rocking chair behind the Painter, watching him work.
    Oh Lord Jesus, please! she prayed, Please let this end!
    “You should look at this, sweetheart,” said the Painter.
    She didn’t move.
    The Painter sighed. “Okay then.  Suit yourself.  I must say though, all modesty aside, it’s a remarkable likeness of you.”
    Lummox laughed.
    Through the fog of Talytha’s addled brain, she remembered the Painter saying that Maleeka was in his bedroom, hung on the wall.  She put that memory together with the fact she was now in the bedroom and she cried out, “Sis!”  She tried to sit up, only to be driven down again by vertigo.
    “She’s not here.”  The Painter’s cheerfulness was, in itself, another horror.  “When she found out you came looking for her, she was terribly distraught.  Inconsolable, actually.  She was crying so hard, I was afraid she was in danger of making her face run.”  After snickering at his own joke, he said, “I shut her up.  Frankly, her language was offensive.”  He sniggered and said, “The fucking bitch!”
    He laughed harder still.
    Questions floated up in Talytha’s mind; she immediately beat them back down.
    She didn’t want to know.
    She wondered if she could become unconscious again and found that she could.
    Just as she was blacking out, there was an explosion of noise— the slam of thunder overhead, the crash of something cataclysmic happening on the roof, the rattle of the bed and furniture and all the teeth in the room as the entire church quaked.  The lights went out but then flickered back to life a moment later.  The thunder was still rumbling, the roof was now creaking, and the Sheriff said, “Damn,” as his computer said, in a woman’s voice, “Now booting from operating system.”
    “What was that, Boss?” shouted Lummox.
    The Painter ordered him to, “Go see.”  He looked at the Sheriff.  “Both of you.”
    Lummox bounded from the room, sounding like a charging elephant as he went.
    The Sheriff went to a small window across the room and pulled back the red curtains.  Peering out through rain-soaked glass, he said, “The steeple’s down!”
    “WHAT?” shouted the Painter, rushing to the window.
    Lying on her side on the bed, Talytha opened her eyes wider and saw something she’d given up hope of ever seeing: the Painter’s penis finally went soft.
    The Sheriff couldn’t completely keep the smile off his face as he said, “The storm knocked down that goddamn dick of yours.”
    The Painter whirled on the Sheriff and roared, “GO CHECK ON IT!”
    The Sheriff walked to the bedroom door, looking annoyed.  “What the hell am I supposed to check on?  The fucking thing is wrecked.”
    The Painter shook a fist at the man dressed like a law officer, looking like a petulant child, a furious one.  Seeing his reaction, Talytha was certain that the man ruling this frightful little town was totally deranged.
    You’re all wrong , she thought, suspecting she knew the truth.  He’s not a demon and no, it’s not something in the paint.  It’s his madness.   Somehow his insanity gives him power.
    The