Papa Voodoo

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It's the 70's in New Orleans and racial tension is still high, just ten years after desegregation. James Hoodú uses Black Magic to bring a bit of prosperity to the rugged, family owned, voodoo shop. However, witches see their advancement in society as a threat and seek to destroy everything they've built. After enduring some heavy losses, heartbreak, and facing poverty, James begins rebuilding his, newly eternal, life down a darker path of vengeance as Papa Voodoo. With help from his mother, The Voodoo Queen of Haiti, Papa prepares to pursue the witches that wronged him and his family...but at what further cost?

Fantasy / Other
RChaun Moore
Age Rating:


I stood on the front porch, smoking an Embassy Gold cigarette. I stared in the distance at the clear sky, feeling faint ripples of energy vibrating from the west. Someone, a magic user, has been quite busy this last month.

“Mistress,” called out a voice as the front door flung open.

I peered over and saw my dear Camilla standing worriedly in the doorway. “What is it?” I asked concerned.

“It’s that politician from a state over...”

I sighed before taking one last puff of my cigarette. I flicked the remainder of it out toward the driveway. Then I proceeded inside, walking past Camilla.

I continued through the vast lobby of mansion, heading down the hallway next to the staircase. The tapping of my heels, against the tile floor, echoed through the house. As I reached the end of the hall, I noticed that Camilla left the door to my study cracked.

I pushed it the rest of the way open, immediately seeing the phone off the receiver and laying on my desk. I sighed as I walked over and picked it up, placing it against my ear. “Hello,” I huffed.

“I need your help,” he replied firmly.

“I’ve already told you I can’t help. You let us know about your reelection on such short notice...”

“No, I went to someone else for that...and they are coincidentally the reason why I am calling.”

“Someone else?” I tightly gripped the phone, feeling an angry rising inside of me.



“I went downtown to Shadow County. I met with a Madam Jeanette...” My eyes grew in surprise as I peered down at my desk, having overdue bills scattered about. The very mention of that name set my teeth on edge.

“That would explain some things,” I spoke as if solving a riddle.

“Wait, do you know her?”

“You can say that...”

“And what should I do? I mean for Christ’s sake Seraphine, the woman is talking about I owe her!”

“ do nothing. You will wait for my call in a few days, after I make my necessary arrangements.”

“You’re coming to New Orleans?”

“ and a few of my girls. We’ll be in touch.” I slammed the phone down in fury with the loud ding of the receiver. Camilla, who I assumed had been eavesdropping the whole time, poked her head from around the corner into the doorway.

“Is everything alright?” she questioned curiously.

“No, it’s not,” I sharply answered as I started pacing stressfully by the desk. “Lately, I’ve been wondering why we are slowly drowning further into debt. Witches, who don’t even stay on the estate, have been pitching in to make sure we get by.”

“You’ve kept this to yourself the whole time?”

“Yes, because this is the first time we’ve ever struggled. At first it all seemed normal, just having our share of bad luck. However, I quickly noticed that over the last month, every opportunity that was presented to us just ‘flew on by’.”

“You believe someone is responsible?” she asked in more worrisome tone while still holding a curious expression.

“I know who is responsible...Madam Jeanette, a voodoo sorceress claiming to be some sort of queen. I’ve been feeling her magic all throughout Mississippi. I believe she must of cursed or hexed us to steal our business.”

“And what are we to do?”

I smiled happily at her question. “We’re going to send a message to her.” My responsive brought forth excitement from Camilla.

“What did you have in mind?” she grinned.

“Good question,” I stated, drawing a blank on what exactly I wanted to do. As I gazed at the floor to think, I saw a rope and tire laying next to my desk for a tire swing one of the girl’s requested.

I smiled again as an idea sparked to mind. I walked over, kneeling down by the rope. “Serpentis,” I chanted, gently placing my hand on its rough linen fibers.

A spark of magenta energy shot from my fingers into the rope. An end of the rope then rose up, like a head. I petted it with light strokes as it let out a hollowed hiss.

“Mistress,” spoke Camilla in awe. “You’ve out done yourself...”

“Thank you,” I replied in appreciation. “Go and tell are dear sister, Celine, that the three of us are going on a little trip to New Orleans...”

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