"So..." A voice of a baby interpolated.
Sherry's eyes darted around the room, filled with a rising sense of terror. However, despite her frantic search, there was no sign of an infant to account for the haunting voice that had pierced the silence. The sound was like a mother giving birth to a child in noisy surroundings. People were making different kinds of contributions.
"Hahhhhhh..." Sherry's scream pierced the air, her hands pressed tightly against her ears in a futile attempt to block out the cacophony of voices assaulting her senses. Each voice seemed hauntingly familiar, like echoes from a past she couldn't quite place. The relentless noise pounded against her skull, threatening to unravel her sanity with its relentless intensity.
Sherry's brother, Chike, slouched over the table, his body a weary silhouette against the dim light. With languid movements, he traced his fingers around the edge of the plate before him, his touch barely stirring the heavy air that hung around them like a suffocating shroud. He couldn't control his taste anymore 
"Sherry, you have to come with us to the land of the dead and live out your remaining years with us," she said, her voice echoing with an eerie resonance that sent shivers down Sherry's spine. Without sparing her a single glance, the speaker's words hung heavy in the air, laden with an ominous weight that seemed to portend an inevitable fate.
Her mom gave her father that strong, affectionate look that instantly drew his attention back to her. Not a single word dared escape anyone's lips as the tense conversation between Sherry and the unknown intruders unfolded.
"Come with you? To the land of the dead? And live with you forever?" Sherry asked, her voice trembling with fear, her body and heart quivering in terror at the unimaginable prospect before her.
She beckoned, "That's where we all belong." Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable silently spoken but cutting through Sherry's heart like a razor, sending a chill down her spine.
"Never! I'm not going with you!" she declared, her voice ringing with authority, even as her heart and soul rebelled against her words, torn between fear and defiance. Sometimes fighting your fear is good but fighting your fear amid danger is like using a basket to stop water from leaking.
"Who goes there?" A feminine voice from behind interjected. It was strict, angrier, deadly, and earthshaking 
The room quaked, its very foundations trembling as if in protest. Every item on the table rattled and shook, as though caught in the throes of an unseen tempest, adding to the unsettling atmosphere engulfing them all. The chairs and floor were not left out.
"Comment oses-tu? Comment osez-vous vous opposer à notre déclaration?" (How dare you? How dare you object to our declaration?).
The dining room was eerily silent. A voice from behind echoed softly in the room, feminine yet carrying a subtle, masculine energy.
Sherry glanced around, her senses on edge, but she couldn't spot anyone matching the voice in the room. Who, then, was delivering such unsettling statements? Perhaps it was the invisible entity lurking in the shadows, orchestrating the eerie scene unfolding before her. 
Everyone around the table moves their eyes searching for the person responsible for the statement.
She was not certain about it, she had witnessed more than expected, She had a slight recall and looked at the body on the floor but it was nowhere to be found, she panicked and looked deeper without caring about what would happen to her. In the darkened corner of the room, Sherry spotted a figure whose face was cloaked in shadow. With measured steps, she emerged, dragging her feet along the floor, her presence ominous and unsettling.
The sphere of light in the dining room slowly revealed her body, emerging from the darkness like a spectral apparition. Inch by inch, it unveiled her form, starting from her feet and gradually illuminating her features until her face was finally exposed to the light.
She wore a princess gown, her hair was long, longer than the first lady that showed up. Her hair rested peacefully on her shoulder, her face was horrible to look twice. Her lip let down blóòd from the side.
Her left eye remained closed and discolored, nonfunctional. A white substance covered her face, masking its features with an eerie pallor.
Her right hand was bruised, her fingernails long and dark.
A black parrot flew in and landed on her shoulder.
"Sherry Toes!!" She called.
She was surprised to hear her name from someone that just risen from the dead.
"Repeat the last words you said to her," she commanded, her voice carrying a commanding weight as she moved closer to the table.
 Do you know the last word Sherry said? if No. look up for it.
"Uhhh ahhh," the parrot blared looking at Sherry with a side view.
"And watch the world dim before your eyes," she declared, her words echoing with a commanding presence that sent a shiver down her spine. She waited for her to dare try to repeat the statement.
" I said... I'm not," Sherry muttered. Did she just mutter she was scared to continue with her statement? 
"I said I'm not going with you guys," she objected, determination blazing in her eyes. She was prepared to fight tooth and nail, wielding her words as weapons. You can strip a woman of everything in this world, but you can never silence her right to speak; it's an intrinsic part of her being.
"How can I leave the world with strangers and not return? I'd rather die than follow them. But even in death, I might still end up following them to the land of no return," she reasoned. Yes, a wise person needs to think twice before acting.
With clenched fists and a scowl, she ground her teeth and folded her arms tightly. In a burst of rage, the bottle on the table shattered, its shards scattering across the surface. Simultaneously, the flames of the black candles were extinguished, succumbing to the force of her anger.
With a furious stomp of her feet, she exerted her will upon the chair Sherry was seated on. The chair lurched and rotated abruptly, it faced her.
Her eyes were on Sherry, she quickly stared at the floor, her appearance was enough to kill a spirit.
The black parrot on her shoulder glares at Sherry and grinds.
She lifts her hand.
Pain surged through Sherry's body, causing her joints to twitch involuntarily. She let out a groan, the agony evident on her face as she struggled against the discomfort.
She didn't stop no matter how she was screaming. The broken piece of bottle on the table was pointing straight at Sherry.
It moved down to her arm, it rested lightly.
She pants, and the piece drags down slowly.
She groaned and screamed, the pain was unbearable 
Blood flowed out of her arm as the bottle moved.