Parts Obeah Storyteller

18th installment of Obeah


Akosua and her warriors were herded into a small hut and a guard was placed at the door.

“Watch that witch like your life depended on it,” the leader said and walked off into the night. Kwao paced the mud floor of the hut,

“I say we leave this place right now. I don’t see why we need the help of these animals,” he said. Akosua did not look at him when she spoke,

“Yemaya said we needed them, I am not leaving until I talk to them,” she said and sat in a chair next to the door. Kwao kept on pacing,

“Well I for one will not let them sacrifice and eat me that’s for sure.” Kwao said,

“Remember they used to be Hougans, good priests, I will use that to get them to help us, plus, we have the same enemy, that has to count for something,” she said and closed her eyes and was silent. Kwao paced in a circle in the middle of the hut,

“Sit down Kwao,” she said without looking at him. He stopped and looked over at the two warriors.

“This is crazy, she doesn’t know if this is going to work, “he barked, Akosua turned to him, the bamboo chair creaked as she did.

“Have faith Kwao,” she said, the boy plopped down in the dirt sending a small dust cloud into the air. Akosua got up and peeped out the door. The guard looked at her, his red and blue face pronounced in the light from the torch in front of the door. Everyone in the village was wearing red and blue and their faces were painted the same. Some carried food, while others carried wood for a bonfire in the middle of the village.

“Help me,” a woman screamed as she reached her arms out to Akosua. Akosua turned to her warriors,

“Let’s go” she said and walked out the door. The guard turned to block her, but she reached out and touched his shoulder, and his resolve seemed to melt, and the spear hung loosely at his side. She pushed past him and followed the screaming woman. Kwao and the two warriors followed her. The blond woman managed to escape and the Bokor chased after her and grabbed her by the hair. She fought back, but to no avail.

They walked to the middle of the village. The woman was being tied to a pole next to the bonfire. She was crying and screaming, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Two Bokors stood next to her wearing red and blue robes. The bonfire popped and cracked sending sparks everywhere. The Bokors were busy preparing for the nights sacrifice. Akosua stopped in front of the woman. The woman looked at her, tears rolled down her sun tanned face, her blue eyes pleading. The Bokors tighten vines around her. Akosua took a step towards the woman just as the drummers began playing. The Bokors began to congregate, their faces expressionless, their eyes not moving. Their leader walked in from the darkness. He too wore a red and blue robe but with a hood on it. The bottom of the robe touched the dirt giving the illusion that he floated across the uneven ground. Akosua started to walk towards him but Kwao grabbed her arm. The Bokor leader stopped in front of the crying woman. The Bokor congregation became silent.

“To the great Pedro Loa we bring this sacrifice. We implore him to wreak vengeance on those who seek to destroy us,” he said. The drummers played faster whipping the Bokors into a frenzy of dance. The leader danced over to one of the guards and took a machete from him. He danced towards the woman; the hood on his robe covered most of his face giving the impression that he was faceless.

By Mr Giant

Me name is Anderson A Charles. I am a writer story teller and Podcaster and Youtuber. Also played basketball in college ( that's because I am seven feet tall.

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