Thanks very much to InterNutter and Steven P. P for their reviews. And in response to InterNutter's musings about Tabby, don't think of her as Christine. Think of her more as Carlotta. :D
Chapter Four: Tabby and What Followed
They tracked Todd down three flights of stairs to the living room. As the TV was rapidly changing channels and the remote lay smoking on the couch, it appeared Pietro had been watching at superspeed (though the channel changes could never keep up with how fast he pressed the button), but had left in a hurry, most likely due to his dislike of being in the same room as Tabby. The cherry-bomb bitch herself was now sitting on the arm of the couch, leaning back and drinking the soda in small sips, reveling in her supreme annoying-ness.
Todd stood in front of her, looking scared as anything.
"C'mon Tabby, give me back the soda!" He pleaded. "You've drunk too much already and I'll have to get another one, but it would be a good idea if you gave back what was left! To show you're sorry!"
"Sorry?" Tabby scoffed. "Sorry for what?"
"For takin' what isn't yours." Todd said. "For takin' the intruder's soda!"
"What?!" Tabby said, giving Todd one of her patented 'you're a loser nutcase' looks.
"It's true, Tabs." Fred said from his position in the doorway behind Lance. "Someone was leavin' notes on the fridge, askin' for food. And whoever that someone is, he stole all the sandwiches we left while our backs were turned!"
"Bullshit!" Tabby exclaimed gleefully. "Ain't no way someone could be hiding in our attic! I'd know about it!"
"Oh would you, now?" Lance asked, anger rising in his gut. When Tabby got on his nerves it usually involved his jeep, but now he was really mad at her. Because she refused to believe.
"Sure." Tabby replied, oblivious to the negative emotions around her. "I know everything that goes on in this house. There's nothing that can hide from me. So this intruder, this scary ghost of yours, he'd better come out and give himself up while the givin' up's good!"
Finishing off the Dr. Pepper in one long swig (and ignoring Todd's cry of distress) Tabby dropped the bottle on the floor and spread her arms wide.
"Come out, Mr. Ghost!" She yelled, enjoying the fear in Todd's eyes as he desperately tried to shush her. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Or are you too scared?? Aw, is that it? Is the little dumb ghostie-wostie too scared to show his fa--co-ACK!"
As the unearthly croak tore itself past Tabby's lips, she froze, arms outstretched. A look of absolute shock and incredulity was on her face, and she stared at nothing, mouth hanging open.
"T-todd?" Lance said softly, staring at his friend's back. Maybe it had been--
"It wasn't me!" Todd squeaked, voice little more than a whisper. " I swear!"
Next to the couch, Tabby seemed to regain her composure.
"What..." She said, pressing a hand to her throat. "What hap--co-ack!"
Everyone in the room flinched at the dreaded noise. In vain, Tabby tried to speak again.
"Wha--co-ack! Is--co-ack! Thi--co-ack! Whatisthi--co-ACK! AHHHHH--co-ack!--HHHHH--co-ack--!HHHH!!!!!!"
As Tabby's composure utterly dissolved and she fell to her knees, screaming and clutching her throat, an ominous voice arose above the tumult. All four teens froze solid, as the voice seemed to resonate from the ceiling, right above their heads.
In a tone full of deadly malice, sexless and ageless, the voice spoke:
"You talk too much, Mademoiselle Bombe. You are shrieking to-day to bring down the fan!!!"
The four mutants as one raised their eyes to the ceiling. They stared at the fan, which moments before had been spinning complacently and hanging sturdily from the ceiling...but was now slipping from its screws, and sagging sideways.
As if at the call of that fiendish voice, the wires that held the fan snapped in a flurry of electric sparks, and the great tan thing came crashing down onto the coffee table.
Tabby screamed, and bolted out of the room like a bat out of hell. Lance heard the front door slam, and dimly realized she was probably stealing his jeep. But he didn't care right now. His nerves were beyond frazzled. And looking forward, he saw Todd give a soft sigh and pass out, dropping to the floor like a bag of bricks.
"Shit..." Freddy muttered, eyes wide. He was staring at the fan like it was going to jump up and bite him. "Oh shit...we are way over our heads."
A sudden gust of wind brushed by, and Lance found himself looking straight at Pietro. The speedster quickly took in his surroundings: fan destroyed, Blob and Avalanche frozen in place, and Toad down for the count.
"So Alvers," Pietro said, raising his eyebrows and smirking. "I guess your paranoia 'bout making' tremors in the house has worn off, hasn't it? Nice work, very nice work you've done."
Lance snapped out of his state of shock, glaring at Pietro with a look that could have curdled milk.
"Out! Out!" He yelled at Pietro. He didn't bother to try shoving at the speedster, knowing full well Pietro would dodge him easily. So Lance settled for waving his arms wildly in Pietro's direction. "Get out! Go bother someone else!"
"Fine fine, whatever." Pietro scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Y'know, you can be really touchy sometimes Alvers!"
With another gust of wind, Quicksilver departed.
Wiping a hand across his face, Lance noted that Todd still lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. He motioned for Fred to come forward.
"'C'mon. Go carry him up to his room and wake him up."
"How do you want me to do that? Wake him, I mean. Water or lack of air?"
"You pick. I need to go take some aspirin."
tbc.