THE SCREAM'S CONCLUSION ... A WEP ENTRY AND POST.

 

Hi All,

AS promised, here is the conclusion from my SCREAM entry for the WEP. 

We left off as Kimmie is mysteriously pushed through a tattered curtain...

And then, a dusty wind swirled around me as if conjured up by some strange dark force; it swept me through the curtain, my silent scream following.

A bright flame blinded me. Someone grabbed me by the arm and pulled me onto a shaky wooden bridge. Human sweat, burnt incense, and animal feces assaulted my nose. I tried to catch my breath and choked.

I lost my footing—the broad man, robed in white, vise-gripped my arm and stopped me from falling. His face hid within a hood. 

I mustered up as much saliva in my mouth as I could and swallowed hard. After sucking in a much-needed breath, I cried out, “Who are you? And where’s my mother!”

He remained silent.

As my eyes adjusted, pinpoints of flames darted through what looked like a skeletal wooded area. The chants grew louder as the drums beat out a harsh rhythm. I had no idea what was happening. 

My silent guide loosened his grip and shuffled me off the bridge. Shrieks from a group of women, dancing in a tight circle around a tree, sent shivers throughout my body. I trembled with each step. 

As we drew nearer, I saw him: the voodoo priest. He was about twenty feet away from me. He scattered handfuls of a light golden powder around the tree’s base and then drew something in the powder with his witch doctor’s stick. From his other hand, he poured a honey-colored liquid around the powder’s edge and muttered some strange incantation. I pulled my gaze away from him and searched for my mother and Antoine through a sea of dozens of white-clad Haitians. 

Was that her? A small group of disciples chanted and danced around a large seated person holding some squirming animal. Their bodies shifted, and I was able to see the face of the woman.

“Mommy!” I shrieked. 

The grip on my arm tightened.  

Everything was a blur of white, swirling within the orange flames of the torches and gray shadows. The voodoo priest maneuvered through his disciples as if floating between them. The pounding drums beat a quick, sporadic rhythm. He stopped in front of my mother and held out his arms. 

Mommy jerked into a kneeling position. Her face twisted in horror as her trembling hands held up a baby white goat. 

The voodoo priest called out in guttural tones, as he withdrew a large machete from under his robe. In one swift movement, he slit the goat’s throat. Blood gushed, spraying Mommy and himself with fresh blood. The chants turned into an eerie singing, and it grew louder as the disciples stepped closer to him. 

He first smeared the goat’s blood on Mommy’s head. She tried to recoil, but the disciple behind pushed her forward. He slapped more blood on her face and shoulders. I stared in shock. Never had I seen my mother so terrified. There was no color left in her face, only the fresh blood that glistened from the torchlight. She fell to her knees as her tears mingled with the blood. 

I tried to run, but the hooded man kept me pinned in place. 

Antione was nowhere in sight. Mommy was alone and helpless. 

I struggled to break free. We began to move slowly in the direction of the voodoo priest. Was I to be defiled with the goat’s blood, too? My stomach roiled.

One-by-one, the disciples stepped over Mommy, waiting for their turn for the sacrificial blood. Their sing-songy chant continued as if she wasn’t in front of them. She didn’t move. Fear surged through me as I had never felt. 

I went limp. 

The hooded man dragged me further toward the ceremony. My throat constricted.

We stopped next to a small tree where he released me and withdrew a corded rope from within the folds of his robe. Not one word crossed his lips. He reached out both his hands, fists together. The gesture clearly stated for me to do the same. I tried to run, but he was too fast. He caught and tied me to the tree. 

We locked eyes, and I screamed. 

But not even I could hear it. 

I tried to break free, but the binding was too tight. 

The hooded man headed toward the ritual, parting the disciples as he walked up to the sacrificial site. 

He stood between my mother and the voodoo priest, then dropped his hood. 

The High Priest froze.

The man flipped the hood back over his head. He bent slightly, stretched out his muscular arms, and pulled Mommy to her feet. She looked up into his face. Her stunned expression dissolved; as she parted her lips, one word escaped them, but I couldn’t hear it.

He nodded, then guided her in my direction. 

“Mommy! Mommy! Are you all right?” I held my breath.

Her head jerked, and she saw me. For the first time in what seemed like hours, she smiled.

She raced to the back of the tree and untied me. “Kimmie. Let’s get out of here!”

We followed the hooded man back down the side of the voodoo priest’s house and made it to the street. After rushing down three or four side streets, we stopped in front of a large black limo. I recognized it at once.

“Get in quickly,” Zaxai said as he unlocked the doors.

***

The next morning, Zaxai drove us to the airport. No one spoke. Which kind of surprised me. I didn’t want to push Zaxai. He did save our lives, but I still had some unanswered questions. How did he know I’d be coming out from behind that curtain? Why did the voodoo priest fear him so? What was Uncle Sid’s involvement with all of this? And, the most important one of all, whatever happened to Antoine? We never did see him again. 

I guess some mysteries are best unsolved—especially the whereabouts of a certain waiter named Antoine. 

One would think Mommy’s fascination with the occult would have ended here. No such luck. This was just the beginning…

Well, I hope you enjoyed the exciting conclusion!!! If you are just stopping by today, please advance to the post above to read the first segment.

If you haven't guessed, Zaxai, is Mommy Kay's uncle chauffer and righthand man. He saved them from THE VOODOO KING...