My Devil Tibb: Part Two

Tibb

I only saw Tibb a few sundry times over the next five or six years.  He always came at the Daylight Gate and asked what I bid.

“Naught,” said I, for I wanted nothing from him yet.

Then one Sabbeth morn he appeared in the likeness of a brown dog, jumped straight in my lap, and suckled from a spot beneath my left arm.  It hurt like the devil and I cried out, “Jesus! Save us all!”

Then I fell into a madness, or so they tell me.

All I recall is wandering in purgatory for nigh-on eight weeks, while the spirits of darkness whispered their secrets and my true self came to the fore.

I awoke no longer as Elizabeth Southerns.  I’d become the wise  Old Demdike.

 

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