Hoodoo Voodoo On August 19th, 1825, a regular Sunday newspaper, The New York Tribune, was flung against my door. On the front page, in bold letters, was the title“3 Massacres In New Orleans”. Written below were the details: “30 bodies burnt to abnormal white ashes in 3 different locations” Immediately, I grabbed an envelope and began writing my annual leave for 5 weeks to the Bank of New York-Mellon. This was unbelievable! My head was spinning. The adrenaline and excitement ran through my body and was electrifying. This was the convincing evidence that I needed to prove the existence of Voodoo magic in America. Now finally, these abnormal beings will be exposed to the public regarding their savage ways. Not a single living soul has ever given …show more content…
Thirty sacrificed bodies, divided in three different locations, which... drawn on a map, would be a perfect equilateral triangle! So what would be the purpose, the biggest question of all. An old broken down and shredded spell book, that had been pasted down through Mr Colemen’s family, told a story of how in order to bring one being from the past, forty in this present life must be traded at the stroke of midnight at the centre of the a triangle. The last ten bodies to be sacrificed must be at the last location. According to my map, this central location would be the centre of the New Orleans Park. “Mr Colemen, I cannot thank you enough for helping me out with this,” I commented with immense gratitude “It’s such a shame that you won’t be coming with me to witness it, Sir”. “Kid, I’m far past my prime age, make sure you take enough photographs to expose these monsters,” he insisted. I felt bad that Mr Colemen refused to go. No matter, this was my only chance to witness and recorded voodoo magic in action. At 11:50 pm, I had set up my camera, hiding it cautiously behind a fern …show more content…
I caught sight of a figure. It was masculine like with a long furry grey coat, pitch black top hat and black boots. With one wave of his arm the park lights dimmed down like an effect on a stage. I placed my hands on the metal buttons on my camera and pressed down lightly. Nothing. No photos were coming out. I bent down to grab more film from my suitcase and proceeded to place them inside the leathered textured camera. When I looked up, the mystery man wasn’t there anymore. Instead nine people were standing in a circle staring into the deep black sky, slobbering as if they were daydreaming. Only moments later, I heard the sound of boots hitting the ground once again. Only this time it was from the right hand side and heading straight towards me. With one quick turn, I caught sight of the mysterious figure. It was Mr Colemen! The lighting around him was dim, but I recognised