Tuesday, September 22, 2015

The Voodoo Shaman

The Voodoo Shaman stood wise and tall like the mighty oak. The feathers from his headdress touched the sky like little fingers which tickled the heavens. His name was Pongo-Motassum and he was the wise one. He had been raised by vampires, but did not bear the curse of the nosferatu. He wore only a headdress of golden ostrich fathers and a long flowing velvet cape. Running and crashing through the brush of the jungle floor he was indeed a mad-man, quick as light from the sun. He spoke no longer the words of man, but instead screamed unrecognizable words to beasts and plants. Every morning he challenged the wildlife, calling in his strange tongue, taunting the beasts. “MEGASSO CHA GOLMBA!” he cried to the boar and the boar did fight him and Pungo did best him. “CHUY DOL SEEMA!” he called to the bear and the bear did fight him and Pungo bested him also. “EM CHUNGA BULOSSA MONTE!” cried Pungo to the mighty beaver and the mighty beaver did fight him and Pungo did bite and gnaw his foe into submission. And once he had beaten his oppponent, Pungo’s vampire elders descended from the lilac branches to feast on the dish which lay helpless on the jungle floor. Like machines, the elders drank blood as Pongo watched from a distance, for Pongo was no Vampire.

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