This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Voodoo_Clerk on 2024-06-23 17:30:43+00:00.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

The first step to escaping Creole’s grasp was getting used to only having a few working fingers on my left hand. I’m lucky to be right-handed, but you never really notice how often you use your left hand until it’s heavily damaged. Especially when you’re a lock picker and need full use of both hands, it was like learning all over again with more difficult locks. Once I finally got more accustomed to only having a few fingers on my hand, I next went about trying to free myself from Creole’s grasp. 

My only possible source of information was the internet. Needless to say, I didn’t get too many useful ideas. Most were from people roleplaying or scamming me, and I was about to give up hope when on a whim I checked on the maps to see if anything there would pique my interest. And I was surprised to see that on the other side of town was a different voodoo shop. 

“Mama Dupont’s Voodoo Emporium?” I asked aloud as I stared at the listing for it. “It's got 4 stars,” I said afterward, which made me feel a little stupid for immediately thinking that a rating would be helpful in my situation. It was a bit far for a walk but if this place was going to be legit it was worth the little ache I might get in my legs. 

I went into my bathroom and applied more ointment to my face. The ointment didn’t work for my fingers but it seemed to be endlessly refilling whenever I used it. So there was that little bright light in my shitty existence. As I finished I heard someone enter my room, I poked my head out and stared at my dad awkwardly standing there. 

“Hey, Dad,” I said as I did my best to avoid his gaze on me. I could tell he was thinking about the scars I had on my face. “I’m…working on a way to fix all of this,” I told him as I looked up to meet his eyes. I was surprised to see that he was crying again and before I could even process it he’d wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. 

“I’m so sorry baby…I should’ve protected you from all of this. I never wanted anything bad to happen to you or your mother,” he said as he clutched me tightly. I tried my best to hold back the tears but once a single one streamed down my cheek the others followed in rapid succession. 

“It’s okay Daddy.” After a few seconds of us crying together, I pulled myself back and wiped my good eye. He wiped his own eyes and reached into his pocket, handing me a gun in its holster. I opened my eyes so wide that my glass eye fell out of my head and rattled to the floor. That caught him off guard and he quickly looked away from me. 

“It's only a .22 so I doubt it’ll kill him. But for anything else, I’m sure it’ll be okay for self-defense.” He waited for me to scramble around and plop my eye back into my head. Once that was done he placed the gun in my hands and slowly backed away from me. “You remember how to use one, right?” he asked me. Dad had shown me how to shoot from a young age and had installed plenty of gun rules and disciplines into my head. 

“I remember.” I nodded as I pulled the gun from the holster and pulled the slide back to see if it was loaded. It wasn’t which made sense since my dad never stored his guns and ammo together. I walked over to my backpack and quickly stuffed the gun into it along with my various other items. He walked over and handed me a couple of magazines filled with .22s and I also added them to my bag. “I’m going to a different voodoo shop, maybe they’ll be able to help us,” I told my dad as I zipped up the bag and quickly swung it around my back. 

“You’re going to solve our voodoo issue, by going to a different voodoo shop?” my dad asked in complete disbelief. “That’s like lighting another forest on fire to fight a different forest fire, Mace.” He plopped his face into his hand and let out a groan. 

“To be fair Daddy, the fires will eventually burn each other out, so maybe it’ll work out,” I said, still not fully believing in my own plan. But I sort of had to if it was going to work. I wrapped my arms around my dad again and flinched when he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. 

“Stay safe, Macedonia. I couldn’t stand to lose you.” He pulled back and tussled my hair, getting me to giggle and nod up at him. I walked past him and was happy that my mom was working today. I didn’t feel able to explain my voodoo crusade to her. I walked over to the front door and opened it, nearly having a heart attack when I saw Jacob standing at the door. 

“Jesus, fuck!” I shouted in surprise, quickly looking behind me and shoving the bellhop outside, and closing the door behind me. “You scared the shit out of me, Jacob.” I panted as I stared at him and crossed my arms in anger at him. He tilted his permanent smiling head a bit at me and I stared up at him, and before I could get any angrier at him he waved at me. 

That got a little snort out of me and I sighed as I noticed the letter in his hand. That sucked all of the joy out of me. I extended my hand out to him and he gently placed the envelope in my hand. I stared down at it and instead of immediately opening it, I stuck it into my jacket pocket. 

“I’ll be at the shop later today, ok? I have something important to do first.” I told him to which he nodded and gave me a little salute. Everything that Jacob did just brought a smile to my face and I gave him a little wave goodbye as we separated to go down our separate paths. 

I walked down the streets toward this new voodoo shop and I began to take notice that it was in the nice part of town. Different from the houses I stole from in the suburbs but still just as nice. It gave me a little bit of hope. Creole’s voodoo shop was in the shitty part of town and he was a psychopathic murderer. So could the owner of this new voodoo shop be a better person? I hoped that it would be the case as I checked my phone to make sure I was going the right way. 

After a half-hour of walking, I could finally see the voodoo shop in my sight. And right away I could tell it was completely different from Ol’ King Creole’s. Mama Dupont’s Voodoo Emporium actually looked like a business that hadn’t been abandoned for 50 years. Not to mention the store even had a more prominent sign. It felt inviting, and that filled me with a bit of comfort and also the courage to actually enter the store. 

A soft and comforting bell heralded my arrival, and I couldn’t help but stare up at it in wonder. I’d heard Creole’s sad and rusty bell so many times that I forgot that a bell could sound like that. I scanned my eyes across the store and was struck by how neat and organized everything was. It was like stepping into an antique shop that a little old lady ran and carefully cared for. 

“Do come in sweetheart, I’ll be with you momentarily.” A soft and caring voice broke me out of my endless scanning of the store. I looked over towards where it had come from and saw a middle-aged black woman sitting at the counter. If this shop was an antique shop then she was the little old lady who ran it. I watched her as she looked down at her hands cupped in front of her and just immediately wondered if she was a grandma in any way. 

“Sorry to intrude,” I told her, holding the straps of my backpack tight and walking over toward the counter. The woman looked up at me and was suddenly horrified at what she saw. She quickly walked around the register counter and quickly walked over to me. 

“You poor thing, what’s happened to you?” She asked me as she slowly raised a hand to where my glass eye was. I instinctively pulled away from her hand and couldn’t help but look down at the floor in shame. 

“That’s why I’m here,” I told her, lifting my head to her and suddenly becoming aware of the thing she was holding in her hands. “What’s that thing?” I asked as I pointed toward it. In her hands was a small little creature that looked almost like some kind of a bug. It had wings and antennas and also five colorful eyes. But it was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It also appeared to be crying and sniffling. Against my better judgment, I started getting closer to it with my finger. 

“Wait! I wouldn’t-” The owner was in the middle of trying to stop me when the bug creature looked at me, opened its mouth, and chomped right down on my finger. I let out every obscenity I could think of as I pulled my finger away and left a decent chunk of skin behind in the bug’s mouth. “I’m sorry sweetheart, this creature scares and becomes emotional very easily.” She told me as she reached over to one of the shelves near us and pulled out a small stuffed rabbit from the shelf. 

She lowered it down to the bug’s level as it was busy chewing on my skin and hissing in my direction. When it became aware of the stuffed rabbit however its eyes literally lit up in excitement as it gave the rabbit a big squeeze hug, its wings flapping happily.  ...

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