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Writer's pictureKailani

Sacrifice


Evelyn hated hospitals, she found them to be unnaturally clean and they reeked of death. No matter how much antiseptic they used, the dank stench of death still hung in the air. But, when Beverly called her in a panic and told her what had happened to Ike she rushed over there with Dee in tow. Though she hesitated slightly at the entrance with a little nudge from Dee she was soon beside an unconscious Ike.

“Coo-Wee, poor Ike! Dey really did a number on him. Did ya see who did it, Bev?” Evelyn turned to the teary eyed clouded leopard.

“No, it was too dark.” The others in the room had to strain to hear what she uttered. The police officer in the room made a couple of notes on his pad and Eve attempted to sneak a peek at what he had written. The burly polar bear shot her an annoyed look as he snapped the pad shut and cleared his throat to speak.

“Well ma’am, even though you didn’t see the suspect’s face you at least gave me a good description of the car. The department will do its best to try and find the crooks who did this. If you’ll excuse me....” He awkwardly stepped around the people in the slightly crowded room. Evelyn scoffed as she watched him leave.

“Psh, ain’t no law man gonna look into an attack on a hooch seller. He jus gonna slap dat file on his desk and let it catch dust.” Evelyn flicked her nose at the retreating officer before placing her hands on her protruding hips.

“Ev, maybe now’s not the time to debate on the work ethic of local law enforcement.” Dee steered the ornery polecat to the nearest empty chair and sat her down in it.

“I’m jus sayin’ if you want some real results I know a fella dat can help.” Evelyn shrugged casually.

“Keep that black magic far away from me, Evie.” Jezebel mumbled as she thought back to her first and last encounter with Evelyn’s hoodoo magic.

“Oh pischoutte, nothin’ sinister ‘bout my brand o’conjure. Ain’t hurt nobody...yet.” The polecat chuckled to herself as she stood slowly. She blew a kiss in Ike’s direction and with a fleeting wave she was back into the chilly night air. Though she was a bit down about leaving her friends during this dire situation she was glad to get out of the sterile hospital.

She managed to hail a taxi a block or two away from the hospital, she told the driver where she wanted to go and with a curt nod he drove off. It was a fifteen minute drive and Evelyn spent most of that fifteen minutes carefully planning her next move. If things didn’t go her way she’d most likely be receiving some bad juju. As the car pulled in front of the dark alleyway Eve swallowed thickly. She stepped out of the car and fussed with the tight corset that was bound around her midsection.

“The tings I do for mes amis.” She took a deep breath before delving into the darkness. The only light source in the alleyway was a small lamp that illuminated a blood red door. There was no knob on the door just a gruesome knocker made out of the skull of a rat, a brass ring enclosed in its jaws. Eve gingerly lifted the ring and let it go, instead of a hollow thump the sound that emitted from the knocker was a low hum, like the chanting of a witch doctor before a conjuring. After a long pause Evelyn heard some rustling and a harsh grunt. She jumped back a bit when the door swung open to reveal a thinning lioness with striking white eyes.

“Whatchuwant?” The growled question took Evelyn by surprise. She blinked rapidly as she deciphered exactly what the lioness said.

“I-I’m here ta see T.ya?” She almost whispered as she started into the soulless gaze of the lioness.

“Yea, dat me. You need somtin’?”, When Evelyn only started at T.ya with a blank look on her face the lioness curled her lip in irritation. “Look hia now, I ain’t got time to fuss wicha. Do ya need somtin or ya just come ‘ere to eyeball me?" Evelyn knew she had an….interesting accent and could be hard to understand at times but it seemed as if this lioness was speaking a whole other language. She guessed she had some Creole in her but her accent was a mesh of several other regions. As if the lioness had stayed in many places during her life and picked up each accent. Once Evelyn finally decoded what the lioness had said she cleared her throat before responding.

“Oh, ca viens, T.ya? Toni said you could help? I’ve gota friend who needs someone who can speak with da Loa.” As Evelyn explained herself she could see something swirling in the pale orbs of the lioness referred to as T.ya.

“Ya sure ya wanna open dat can o’ worms, bebette? Talkin’ wit dat big cats’ll cost ya. And if ya dun’t repay dem debts you’ll be getting som bad mojo.” While the warning was imminent T.ya had a feral smile on her face, eagerness dripping from every pore.

“Even doe I got the mal au couer, dis the only ting I’ve got left. He’ll die witout your help.” To Eve’s relief the last plea was enough for the lioness, she stepped aside and let Evie through. The dimly lit room gave off an eerie vibe, though Evelyn couldn’t place what exactly it was she did know that it seeped right into her bones. A smorgasbord of trinkets littered the walls of the small shop, some of them Eve could name other’s she had never seen before in her life. One in particular seemed to be the source of the unnerving vibe that permeated through the room. It was a small gris gris, the sack itself was a deep purple and the fabric was interwoven with gold threads that drew in every bit of light in the room and reflected it back. The bag seemed to be beating, like the heart of a living thing. The steady lub-dub that echoed from the sack set Evelyn’s teeth on edge. She was suddenly having second thoughts about taking this route.

“Now why dun’t you tell me what chu need.” T.ya sat down in a wicker chair and motioned for Evelyn to do the same. She gingerly sat at the edge of a very worn down folding chair and flinched when it creaked under her weight.

“Mais, he was run down by some grand beede'. He’s banged up somtin’ awful and I dun tink he’ll make it through.” Evelyn bit her lip as she waited for T.ya to respond. She had a hand under her chin as she stroked her long whiskers, deep in thought.

“I hate ta say dis but I tink you need da help of Baron Samedi.” T.ya stood and hobbled over to a shelf that sat behind a large oak desk. She grabbed a few items off the shelf and made her way over to a small folding table.

While T.ya went about conjuring up the things needed Evelyn took to examining the room a bit closer. She had heard stories about T.ya the Voodoo Queen of New York. She was born in Batton Rouge but moved to Haiti when she was still learning how to walk. She grew up around real Vodou kings and queens and learned their practices and rituals. When she was old enough to make conjures and gris gris herself she moved to New Orleans and studied under the great Marie Laveau. T.ya was once a beautiful maned lioness, she was renowned for her beauty and mystic abilities. She used her skills for conjuring to improve upon the lives of her customers and never messed with negative juju. It wasn’t until after Marie Laveau passed away that tragedy befell T.ya. Marie’s daughter (who was also named Marie) came after the Voodoo queen for taking, what she assumed to be, her share of the small fortune her mother left behind. In a fit of rage Marie set a spell on the lioness and infected her with a parasitic type of spirit. It consumed just about everything within her, until she was just a fraction of what she once was. She lost half her bodyweight, her fur came out in patches and grew back wrong, and her irises faded to a sickly white color. T.ya became a bitter recluse and now dabbled in all sorts of dark matters, her specialty is zombie creation. Her abilities elevating her status to Bokor and she now ‘serves the loa with both hands’, practicing dark and light magic (though folks rarely come to her for light magic rituals). Evie examined the gaunt figure of the mambo as she walked back over to where she was sitting.

“Take dis one an’ put it under ya pillow,” T.ya handed her a small gris-gris, “And put dis one under ya sick friend’s pillow. Wait three days and remove it on de tird night.” To Eve’s horror T.ya removed the purple gris-gris from the wall and gingerly handed it to her. As soon as Evie took it she felt a cool sensation creep up her arm. The steady beating seemed to get louder and the bag pulsated to the beat.

“And dis’ll fix him?” She held up the bag and examined it.

“I offa no garuntees. I’m only da medium of da loa. I can’t promise de Baron will save your friend. But no matta what you gotta take dis juju away and destroy it on the tird night. If de Baron decide to take your friend wit him then leaving de bag will only cause him to linger, den you’ll be in real trouble. And if ya leave de bag after he been saved de Baron will want a sacrifice.” T.ya’s words send another shiver down Eve’s spine.

For the second time since she arrived she was wondering if this was the right choice. As the purple bag squirmed in her grasp she guessed that it was too late now. She made her way back to the door and with one last thank you she stepped back into the dark alleyway. The door swung shut behind her and the faint chanting tickled at her ears again. She tucked the two gris gris in her purse and walked back towards street, hoping she could catch a cab despite the part of town she was in.

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Whew okay so now we get to see the kind of stuff Eve's into. Though T.ya's brand is much more sinister.

Let's all hope this'll help Ike and now hurt him. Anyone else get the feeling that this is Evelyn's first step down the slipery slope that is black magic?


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