Ethol: Child of the voodoo

"Voodoo isn't real!"

Sam Ethol, a 16-year-old high school student said to his best friend, Stevie Lacroix as the two sat outside the Chow Pow, a popular dinner in New Orleans, LA.

"Come on Sammy. Are you going to sit here and tell me you don't believe in magic?" Stevie chuckled as he drank his glass of sweet tea.

"That's what, I'm telling you, Stevie," Sam replied to him.

As the two teenagers discussed their beliefs in the supernatural world, a large overweight man with dark skin and a bald head came toward them with a busboy tub and dropped it on the table between them.

"Alright, break times over." He said uninterested.

"Come on house, we still have ten minutes left," Sam complained.

"Yeah, I know. But we got a huge rush cause of Mardi Gras. We ain't got time to diddle dally. Now get going." House said.

"Oh well," Stevie complained also. "Another day, another quarter."

"Watch it, Croix. Just because your daddy is in the office doesn't mean you can bad mouth how I pay my help." House got annoyed.

"Alright House." Both boys gave up.

"Come on Stevie," Sam said as he pulled out a white apron behind the bus tub before grabbing at the second one to toss to Stevie. "Let's go get this quarter."

Vibrant sounds of triumphant and harmonicas filled the air as Sam and Stevie fastened their aprons and greeted multiple customers who were intoxicated by the vexatious sound of New Orleans.

Stevie grabbed a second bus tub to clear the tables when an unsettling figure spotted him from afar.

"Crap!" Stevie cursed as he maneuvered away from the overweight, red-haired man in a white business suit. The young man walked through the crowd until he bumped into Sam.

"Easy bro." Sam eyed him.

"Sorry man. I just saw you know who in the crowd." Stevie explained to him.

"Again?" Sam said as he looked around to find the intimidating man.

"Hey, busboys!" A blond-haired middle-aged woman called from the dining hall window, interrupting their conversation. "The cooks need the trash taken out." The lady said before she stormed off.

"Bro, can you get this one for me? I don't want to bump into that creep." Stevie asked.

"I got it, Shirley," Sam assured him and called after the lady.

Sam fist-bumped Stevie before putting away his bus tubs and walking into the kitchen.

The dreadlocked teenager moved past the cooks, frantically scurrying around the kitchen to finish the large quantity of food.

"Appreciate the hassle, Sammy," Shirley said.

"What I do best, Boss lady." Sam smiled at her.

Sam tied the large bag of trash before lifting it and haunting the heavy sack outside. The young busboy carried the garbage away to the dumpster several feet from the restaurant when a ceric chilled breeze flowed down his spine.

"Who's there?"

Sam turned around, gazing around his surroundings only to find nothing but the empty valley way behind him.

"Get it together Ethol." Sam thought to himself but was stopped abruptly.

"Sammy!" A chilling voice uttered his name but when the young man looks over his shoulder, he found nothing.

"It's getting too crazy out here. I should..."

Before he could finish his sentence, a divesting twister composed of green spirits was yelling in agony as Sam was trapped inside it.

The dreadlocked teenager fell to the floor. His mouth wide opened yet not a single word escaped it as his chest beat repetitively at an uncased pace.

Sam shut his eyes, tilling his head from the bizarre phenomenon until the painful screams ceased.

As he cautiously opened his eyes, he saw that the vortex was gone.

"Not again". He sighed.

Just as Sam stood up from the abnormal menace, a woman's scream penetrated the air, making Sam run inside only to find the kitchen covered with blood and the corpses of the chiefs dropped over the kitchen.

Across from Sam, the door leading to the main floor of the restaurant was broken open, occupied by the mass volume of the local socialites reduced to a lifeless husk.

"Stevie..., House... Shirley..." Sam yelled for any possible survivors, but he heard nothing.

The dread-locked teenager walked inside with his heart beating like a drum and his legs wobbled with every corpse he passed.

He looked up to the wall across from the kitchen entrance and found an unsettling message written boldly in blood.

"Take the throne, Voodoo Child."

Terror covered the young man's face as he back stepped further and further from the horrific situation in front of him.

"Why is this happening to me?" Sam began to wail but stopped when he heard a voice.

"Sam," Stevie called out in a battered state, his body lying on his side and struggling to get up.

"Stevie?" Sam ran to his best friend's side to help him to his feet.

"You alright man?" Sam asked him.

"Kinda, sort of," Stevie said out of breath.

"What the hell happened here?" Sam asked, wanting to know what happened exactly.

"No clue. One minute, I was clearing tables then suddenly, this guy in a red trench coat and black fedora walked in and shot out a swarm of bees everywhere." Stevie explained to him.

"Bees?"

"Yeah. It was crazy as hell, man."

The two boys lifted Shirley, making their way out of the kitchen. When they entered the dining hall, Sam could not help but noticed the bloody message on the wall.

"Sam, what are you looking at?" Shirley said, noticing that Sam's hand was still above.

"Can't you guys see that?" Sam asked, not understanding what was happening anymore. Sam lifted his arm and pointed to the well.

"See what?" Stevie asked.

"Yeah, I don't see anything either," Shirley added.

"That text in blood. "Sam explained. "It's painted on the wall."

"I told ya that this boy needs glasses." House projected as he got up before referring to Shirley. "Now stop fooling around and get the poor lady a seat."

As Sam helped his employer sit down, he felt a pinched pain on his left palm. "Ouch, that..."

He was cut off when he opened his hand only to find a glowing green silhouette of a voodoo mark in his palm before he completed his sentence.

"...Hurts".

The burning symbol in his hand scared Sam to the point where reality itself appeared to be spiraling out of control .

"Sammy!" Shirley called out to him.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Stay with us. I know this is all horrifying, but we need to keep our calm until the police get here." Shirley said.

"What are we going to tell the cops?" Stevie said.

"I don't know," Sam said.

"We'll take care of the cops. You two just keep calm till they show up." House said.

The board of police's siren in the air pretreated the over-boring silence of the ruined Chow Pow. The authorities moved in to find the workers' studio in the middle of the carnage.

"Everyone move in." Sheriff McKnight ordered as the police officers moved inside the crime scene, escorting the surviving staff members to safety.

"All over, I need a full sweep of the Chow Pow. Every inch of this restaurant is to be covered in yellow tape. No one gets in until I give the okay." Sheriff commanded.

While the officers covered Sam and the others with blankets, he saw the same voodoo mark he saw earlier getting brighter in his hand.

"I know you scared, Son!" Sheriff McKnight said, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder. "But we're gonna stop the person who caused this."

"Thanks, Uncle Chris," Sam said.

"Something wrong? You've been staring at your hand since we got you out of the restaurant." Sheriff McKnight asked Sam.

"I think... It's back.

The sheriff pulled Sam aside after hearing what he had said.

" The mark of vodon? " Chris whispered to his nephew.

" Yeah. I haven't seen it since the night my dad was..."

" Everything okay, Sheriff? " Shirley asked.

"I was just telling my nephew that this may take all night. I'd hate to leave him alone after what happened tonight. "

" I have a comfy couch at my place if Sammy would like to sleepover. Not too far from your place, Sheriff. "

" That would be great, Shirley. Thank you. "

"Of course. I'll be in my car. "

As Shirley left, Sam kept staring at his arm.

" We will discuss this in the morning. Right now, you all need some rest. " Chris said. " I'll have a police escort accompany you and Shirley to her house. "

" Okay. Thanks, Uncle Chris. "

The two hugged as Sam walked off to join Shirley.

Chris looked t the crime scene with a great pit of dread in his chest.

" Please don't let this be your doing, Latoya. " The sheriff said to himself. " That boy has suffered enough. "

Later that night, Sam and Shirley settle into her apartment.

" Feel free to move those pillows, Sammy. " Shirley said as she watered the multiple plants that hung around her living room.

" Thanks, Boss. I'm going to need all of them to sleep after what happened tonight. "

" No problem. " Shirley said as she put down her spray bottle. " I'll get you some ice tea from the kitchen. Sit tight. "

Shirley left the room as Sam fiddled with the sheets that she left for him.

Embrace the vodon

Those words echoed in Sam's mind as he struggled to put his mind at ease.

" Can't be real. Can't be real. " Sam uttered.

" What can't be real? " Shirley asked as she returned with a cup of ice tea.

" Huh? Nothing. It's nothing. "

" Well, maybe a drink can calm your mind. " Shirley said.

" Any chance that drink has any vodka? " Sam smirked.

" Nice try. But your still sixteen. "

" Worth a shot. "

Sam reaches for his drink, safely covering its sides and taking a sip.

"Samuel!" A masculine voice called out to him before he could find his drink.

Sam heard that, he placed the cup on the coffee table and turned sharply to the window side.

" What's wrong?" Shirley asked.

"Um...nothing."

"Come on, Sammie I know when you're lying." Shirley persisted but Sam denied it.

"No, you don't."

"You look towards the left every time you bend the truth just like when I asked you last week, you ate all the lemon squares I made for the break room," Shirley said.

"What can I say? I love the frosting." Sam joked, trying to get out of the situation.

"Seriously, Sam. I know what we saw was horrible; the chiefs and servers all killed at once. Plus the Chow Pow being destroyed makes it worse." Shirley began but was cut short by Sam.

"Yeah, I just don't get how it happened. Stevie said a swarm of misquotes were there."

"It's hard to explain. Especially for the cops. One minute we were trying to keep Stevie's old man away from him. The next thing I know was the room being splattered with the guests' blood." Shirley explained.

"Wait, the mayor was still there?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we tried to keep Stevie away from him but he was persistent."

"I should call him." Sam reached for his cell phone but was stopped by Shirley.

"I don't think now is a good time to speak with Stevie," Shirley said reluctantly.

"Why not?"

"He just saw his old man, and like the rest of us saw, the bloodshed that took place at the restaurant."

"Sounds like a perfect reason to call him." Sam persisted.

"Maybe you should wait till the morning. He's with his mom now and who knows what they are going to do with everything." Shirley told him.

"Okay." Sam agreed.

"You can pull out the bed on the couch. I'll get you some sheets and a pillow."

"Thanks, Boss."

Shirley left the room as Sam pulled out the mattress from the couch when an eerie wind brushed the back of his neck.

"What the hell? I thought I closed the window." Sam walked to the window to see it shot closed. He scratched his head and proceeded to make his bed.

Unknown to him, a carnet haggard figure with a partly shaped body and long dreadlocks tied behind sat back and watched Sam within the window.

"Samuel!" the strange figure said as its eyes glowed green.

The night spiraled with an ominous presence as Sam struggled to enjoy his peaceful sleep. The young man opened his eyes to find himself in a graveyard closed with grey smog which scared him a lot.

"Hello?" He called for any sign of normalcy only to be accompanied by the overbearing volume of silence.

He flipped over his palm to find the same voodoo mark glowing with the same intensity as before.

"Why won't you leave me alone? Whoever you are, I don't want this stupid mark. You can take it. Just leave me alone." Sam screamed out of frustration.

"Samuel!" The mysterious voice called out to him as a dark shadow closed behind him.

"Why the hell did you bring me to a graveyard?" Sam asked as one air force uniform looked back at him. Sam was surprised when saw who it was.

"Dad?"

"Embrace the Voodon." His father said.

"Wait, why?"

"Embrace the Voodon." This was the only thing his father said before he disappeared, leaving Sam stuck in the cemetery alone.

"Dad? Dad." Sam called out but there was no response.

Sam's body vibrated out of his control as more of the strange smog covered the land. Simultaneously, a dark shadow zoomed across Sam, knocking him to the ground.

"What are you?" Sam shrieked.

He looked up to see the strange figure standing above him, wreaking a bee mask and a long people check.

"What the hell are you?" Sam asked again.

Without answering, the figure opened its mouth, tilting into it, and pulled out a gold pocket watch.

"That watch," Sam's eyes widened as the bizarre creative dangled the shining jewelry in his face.

"Find!" The creature said.

"I don't have that watch. The only person who'd have it would be...." Sam thought to himself as he remembered something.

"Find!" The creature repeated before lunging toward Sam to eat him wide but Sam avoided it and screamed in terror, making him find himself back in his bed in the dead of night.

"Sammie?" Shirley called out, running to his side.

"Shirley? I'm back!" Sam replied with his forehead covered in sweet as his employer wiped his forehead with a hand towel.

"Looks like you had a bad dream," Shirley said.

Sam looked into his palm as his Voodoo mark continued to glow with only him being able to see it.

"Something like that." He muttered.

Meanwhile, Sheriff McKnight wraps up his investigation along with his task force at the Chow Pow.

"Sir, we couldn't find any trace of bullets, knives, or any type of weapon that could have caused this." A young Biracial Woman with long braids tied back told him.

"Whatever this was, Officer Stone, it wasn't done with crude weapons. The witnesses said it had something involving bees." The sheriff said to the woman.

"Don't be absurd, Sheriff." A third voice intervened.

"Mayer DuBois I have this area closed off." Sheriff faced the third voice.

"My son was in the middle of whatever catastrophe happened in this restaurant. Not to mention how horrible this would be before business." Mayor replied the Sheriff.

"Sir, your son is safe with his grandmother. We have officers regularly patrolling his and the other mom's neighborhoods to keep them out of risks." Officer Stone said.

"And who are you?" Mayor asked.

"Officer Felicia stone, sir." The woman replied.

"Well, Miss. Stone, I believe the big boss should talk about who's patrolling what but if you'd like to help, I have a suit that needs to be picked up at the dry cleaner's." Mayor shunned Stone.

"Officer Stone stays here." The sheriff said.

"So be it." Mayor DuBois smirked. "I'm sure you're the proper 'man' for the job."

The Mayor walked away from the crime scene, being stared at by the sheriff's scowl.

"Who the hell voted for him?" The sheriff muttered before he began to apologize to Stone." Felicia, I'm sorry for..."

"Sheriff. Don't worry about it. It's fine." Stone dismissed it.

"No, it's not. No one who wears this badge should ever be treated as a second-class citizen." Sheriff stated.

"Sir, I'm a Biracial Woman in America. Even without my badge, I'm always treated like a third-class citizen." Felicia bit her lip and looked away from her boss, fighting hard to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling.

"If you ever need to talk about it." Sheriff offered.

"I'm fine, Sir, We should just focus on the case." Stone declined the offer.

"Sheriff McKnight!" A Caucasian man with blond hair, wearing a New Orleans police department jacket ran to where the Sheriff was standing with Officer Stone.

"What is it, Officer Crocker?" Sheriff asked.

"I think we found something should look at," Crocker said.

"Lead the way." The sheriff and Officer Stone followed Officer Crocker to the crime scene.

"We found this when clearing the area." Crocker pulled out a lighter and began to ignite it.

"You brought me here just to watch you kill your lungs?" Sheriff asked with disbelief.

"No, Sir. One of the forensic analysts dropped his cigarette that was barely lit and then, this happened." Officer Crocker tossed his lighter at the ground five forks from him. The flames touched the ground, changing the hue from orange to violet and filling the silhouette of a bugged insect.

"That looks like a bee" Officer Stone said.

"Not a bee. A hornet." Said the Sheriff.

The sheriff walked away, putting his phone in his pocket as he pulled out a bottle with one hand as pulled out pills with his other head. He poured three pills in his mouth and swallowed them as he felt his heart thumb rapidly.

"Sir, are you okay?" Officer Stone asked.

"I'm fine, I just have to call my nephew." The sheriff replied to her.

"Sir, your blood pressure might be skyrocketing by now if don't take a..." Stone was saying but cut off by Sheriff.

"I'm taking the damn pills!" The sheriff yelled, capturing the attention of others.

An uneasy silence passed as Sheriff felt the beating in his chest smolder.

"I apologize." He said pressing his palm on his chest and leaning on a cop car. "Everyone, go home. We'll pick this up in the morning."

"Sir, are you..." Stone tried to ask but was stopped again by Sheriff.

"That's an order, Officer."

"Yes, sir." The officers all went to their vehicles, ready to leave as Chris's phone rang.

"Hello?" He answered the call.

"Uncle Chris. I heard the troubling news." The person from the other end of the phone said.

"I hope you know who has that watch," Sheriff asked.

"I do." Sam paused before taking a gulp." I have to go to Amherst asylum."