Sam Ethol: The Voodoo Prince

The Saints

​“Voodoo isn’t real!”

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

​“Come on Sammy. Are you really gonna sit here and tell me you don’t believe in magic?” Stevie Chuckled as he drank his 802 glass of sweet tea.

​“That’s what, I’m telling you, Stevie.” Sam replied him.

​As the two teenagers discussed their beliefs in the supernatural world, a largeover weight man with dark skin and a bald head came toward them with a bus boy tub and dropped it on the table between them.

​“Alright, break times over.” He said uninterested.

​“Come on house, we still got 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 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 greetedmultiple 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 a far.

​“Crap!” Stevie cursed as he maneuvered away from the overweight, Ked 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 bus boys!” A blond haired middle aged woman called from the dining hall window, interrupting their conversation. “The cooks need the trash token out for the feast we gotta fix up.”The lady said before she stormed off.

​“Bro, can you get this one for me? I don’t want to bump into to 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 up and haunting the heavy sack outside. The young bus boy 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 look 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 beatrepetitively 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, hesaw 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 chiefsdropped 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 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 kitchen entrance and found an unsettling message written boldly in blood.

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 laying on his side and struggling to get up.

“Stevie?!”

Sam ran to his best friend’s side to help him to his feet.

“You alrighty, Man?”

“Kinda sort of.”

“What the hell happened here?”

“No clue. One minute, I’m clearing tables then all a sudden, this guy in a red trench coat and black fedora walked in and shot out a swarm of bees everywhere.”

“Bees?”

“Yeah. It was crazy as hell, man.”

The two boys lifted Shirley up, making their way out the kitchen.

When the entered the dining hall, Sam couldn’t help but noticed the bloody message on the wall.

“Sam, what are you looking at? Shirley said, noticing that Sam’s land was tilled above.

“Do you guys see that?”

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 painted on the wall.

“I told ya that boy needs glasses. House projected. “Now step fooling around and get the poor lady a seat.

As Sam helped his employer sit down he felt a pinched pain in his left palm. “Ouch, that really…”

Sam opened his hard only to find a glowing green sit houtle of a voodoo mask herm in his palm.

“Hurt,”.