USHI NO KOKU MAIRI
—Alf Seidr
"Here is the other woman's hair. Do whatever witchcraft you want. Strangle her. Tore her into pieces. As long as she will be dead before sunrise, I will be okay with that."
These are the last words of Mrs. Bellamoon Montes to me. I don't know how she learned about my hidden identity but that does not really matter to me anyway. I am practicing witchcraft, voodoo magic in particular, which has been running in the family since the higher being knows when. Just one strand of hair in my hands will assure the inevitable death of someone.
According to Mrs. Montes, her husband has been cold to her for almost one year now. Of course, the first thought that comes to her mind is that her husband has a mistress. And she had caught her husband meeting that woman several times. She cannot take it anymore which leads her to me. Killing the mistress in exchange for money, which I really need right now.
You see, I am a single mom. I raise my child, Ekaterina, alone. I am a married woman but my relationship with my husband only last for three years. Just like with Mrs. Montes, my husband cheated on me. She left us for his mistress. His mistress is now rotting in hell. The last time I heard about him is that he is in the asylum, driven mad by the other woman's death. If only the doctors knew what I have done to him.
Ekaterina is now 20 years old. She grew up to be a very loving and smart woman. In fact, she's going to be an exchange student in Japan. Although her school will cover most of her expenses, it will be better if she has extra money in case she needs to buy something there. It's a good thing that Mrs. Montes will be paying a large sum of money.
I tie the strand of hair to my little doll and began chanting "Mokuro pycali mortum tevum! Bengali victus sesami! Fontus memorus favonius! Let thy spirit merge with the doll. Let thy fate be decided by my wicked hands. Invictus megalos manickius!"
A wisp of green smoke engulfs the doll signifying the success of my invocation. I start bending the doll's legs at an awkward angle. Then a thought hit me. My victim now is a mistress. And I have personal hate for mistress. I spend the night peppering the doll with holes through my needle.
It is dawn already and a text message from my nephew almost knock me unconscious.
" Auntie Sylvia, Ekaterina... She's now dead. We found her lying on the floor, bathing in her own pool of blood. I don't know what happened. There are a lot of holes in her body."
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