Bloody SecretsBloody SecretsBloody SecretsBloody Secrets

Horror StoriesHorror StoriesHorror StoriesHorror Stories Claire Joseph

CURSED CURSED CURSED CURSED

VILLAGEVILLAGEVILLAGEVILLAGE

CURSED VILLAGE

"Aah!" A blood-curling scream disrupted the sweet, serene dawn. The scream pierced through

the silence of the village like a sharp, steel knife slicing through the security of the small village.

The sound uttered by a young woman now on her knees, her bulging eyes depicting horror,

attracted the running footsteps of the naïve villagers.

They each, one by one covered their mouths out of sheer terror, some heaving at the sight of it.

As the sun rose higher above the little village, it illuminated the open-mouthed, silent scream of

a dead man's mouth. The sun shone gently on the wooden pole which his knotted noose was

tied to. The noose was wrapped tightly around his twisted neck and like a puppet his limbs

stuck out awkwardly due to purposely angled, broken bones. In all he looked like a sinister

hopping scarecrow.

The body was placed in the centre of the village, in the middle of the main road. The killing had

been done while the entire village had been congregated in the town square gaily celebrating a

festival called Carnival. Later on that day, the villagers gathered uneasily in the main rum shop

to discuss the petrifying sight which still hung sinisterly for all to see.

The rum shop buzzed loudly as each of the villagers protested loudly at the sight. "It's an

atrocity!" Someone said. "It's the work of the devil!" Another cried in a panicked tone of voice.

Then a clear voice pitched in, saying loudly as if wounded, "It's the curse!". Silence diffused

rapidly and eerily through the room, creeping like an invisible fungus at the woman's words.

Each villager lowered their eyes as they realised she had spoken the truth.

"Now, now," the village judge said, waving his hands as if in dismissal of what she had said.

"Christian people are never cursed and you, my lady, have had too much to drink," he said

pointing at her almost threateningly. "I must say," was the irritated response of a man to his

left. "But she's right," someone said. Once again the room was quiet. "Everyone here knows

what happened that day. Don't deny it. We hanged him. His blood is on our hands."

A man was dragged by a rope tied to his ankles, through the streets screaming for mercy by

three members of the village council. The malicious, unfeeling crowd surged closer and jeered

and spat in his face. “Hang him!” was the unanimous roar of the malicious, unfeeling crowd,

their beady eyes following the man to the terrible, familiar gallows before them. The roar

almost drowned the ma’s tearful, powerless cries while his back was cut and bleeding. His wife

tried to reach his hand for one last touch but she was pulled back into the crowd and viciously

punched into timidity, her head shifting from side to side with each blow.

“Today,” the village judge cried out from the gallow stage. “We will hang this man for his

treacherous crimes. Shall we not spare his widow also?”. The crowd roared, “No, hang her!” in

response. The village judge paused and blinked slowly for a few seconds. He then continued,

“This man here, accused of the brutal murder of seventeen year old Sally Dillon, will be hanged

at this hour as punishment for his heinous crime. Bring the lady up here,”. Someone grabbed

the man’s wife and pushed her onto the stage. A nail caught and ripped into her dress as well as

her skin causing red drops to drip onto the platform. To this the crowd shouted out its pleasure.

The executioner grabbed the weak, helpless woman, pushing her and rapidly wrapping the

noose around her neck, ignoring the tearful cries of her husband as he lay writhing on the

wooden platform. “Don’t kill her, Louise! Louise!” he repeatedly cried, his face twisted and wet

with tears. The wife cried silent tears and the executioner after slapping her, pulled the lever,

letting her be hanged. Her death the crowd enjoyed immensely.

Silence filled the audience as they watched the man being pulled and the noose wrapped

around his neck. “Any last words?” the judge said gently. “Yes,” the man yelled. “I curse you! I

curse all of you! Upon my death, some among you will be hanged just as I am. One by one each

of you will die this way until no one is left. Even your children shall suffer the same fate. Before

I die, I hope all of you, truly see the faces of the demons of hell. You will suffer physically what

you have made me suffer emotionally. I cy out for vengeance!”.

The crowd was silent. Some people were visibly shifting uncomfortably after hearing this. Then

the man started screaming, “Noo! Noo!”. He twisted his body as if in great pain. Blood ran

freely from his mouth. The man twisted his head from left to right in silent pain. Someone from

the crowd yelled out “Hang him before he dies! Hang him!”.

“Yeah!” the crowd roared back. Swiftly the executioner pulled the lever, letting the man’s legs

swing freely in the air. As the man with his head slanted choked from the hanging the crowd

grew more incensed and yelled their approval as the man’s body became still.

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All this the villagers remembered as they congregated in the rum shop, their glasses untouched.

“It truly is the work of a demon,” someone said loudly.

“We cannot fight the curse!” a man yelled out agitatedly.

The village judge tried to calm them down, “People only one person has been killed. Let’s try to

stay inside at night for the next few days. We will get through this. Whatever it is knows we

have done nothing wrong.”

“Well,” said a man, “I am going to Ma Cecil to get my protection against this thing,” referring to

the village’s top obeah practitioner. Many people were rumored to have consulted her in times

of need for money or just revenge. All feared Ma Cecil, whose enemies, seemed to always

acquire some rare, flesh easting illness. Now however in contrast to the said demon, she

appeared to be a harmless kitten. Some members murmured their agreement to what the man

had said, while others seemed stuck between the prospect of choosing between two forces of

evil.

“Now, Now,” said the judge, “We are not, going to consult, any, of you, are not to consult that

lady. We will deal with the situation I the proper way. The first thing is to not go out at late

hours especially alone. Also always go everywhere groups. In that understood? I said is that

understood?” some villagers replied with a low yes. With that the judge walked out of the rum

shop leaving the villagers to discuss possible future reoccurrences.

After some time a loud hoarse voice shouted out, “You will need my help!” The villagers turned

quickly in their seats to face ma Cecil who had coolly entered the rum shop. Her eyes seemed to

be icy as spoke. “It is an ancient demon that John who you hanged two weeks ago has

awakened. It knows no boundaries, has no limitations and no weaknesses. The demon is quick

and clever too in addition to its great strength. I warn you to protect yourselves from this thing.

All it wants is a sacrifice. Blood to undo blood. By tonight we should offer a sacrifice of innocent

blood to assuage the demon before it takes anymore lives.”

“A sacrifice?” someone asked loudly in a horrified voice. “Yes,” she replied. “Those who are

serious know where to find me.” After saying that, Ma Cecil left the rum shop. Slightly

disturbed the villagers slowly, three by three left the rum shop.

The following morning as the dawn began to break over the village. Several villagers who had

spent the night in their securely bolted houses woke up with a never ending tension. The

morning however seemed quite cherry, with its bright sunlight, and serenely chirping birds. A

demon haunting seemed impossible. However, he air was heavy with dread and evil. Even the

shadows seemed to be holding sinister secrets. As the morning progressed and most villagers

fearfully exited their houses, screams startled them. One of the villages, a well known gossiper

called Sheila was seen running up and down the main street topless, shrieking for all to hear

that the end was near. Villagers covered their mouth in horror as Sheila danced and cried

interchangeably in the street. Soon other villagers spread the news to other villagers. In large

groups after tying up Sheila and placing her in the village health centre, the villagers went to

the main rum shop called Joe’s.

Blood splatters were on the ceiling as well as on the bar. Little pools of blood, slid from the bar

top to the concrete floor. Hanging from the shop’s chandelier was a man called Junior. His

bones jutted out the same as the previous hanging with him too in a position of almost hopping

while dancing. His tongue seemed to be almost completely ripped out and it hung loosely from

the corner of his open, bloody mouth. His arm was twisted this time backwards. Several

villagers cried out in terror as they saw the sight, mothers quickly blocking their children’s eyes.

Other villagers stood still apparently from shock, barely blinking or moving. After viewing this

sight, the villagers with the judge unwillingly among them, made their way to Ma Cecil’s

isolated, wooden house.

Ma Cecil’s house was a white, beautifully decorated, four storey house. Outside her house was

a gazebo which was decorated by climbing roses overlooking the small river which flowed near

it. Leaving the wide, dirt path, they nervously knocked on Ma Cecil’s door. Ma Cecil opened the

door wearing a red, flowing gown. “Come in,” she told the frightened villagers. As they all

assembled in the large living room which was decorated with several African carvings and

sculptures, someone said audibly, “We are prepared for the sacrifice”.

The judge groaned loudly, “No we are not. We are here to learn more about this demon and

thought your expertise would be of help.”

“Did you now?” replied Ma Cecil. “First off we need an innocent human sacrifice. A child might

even do.”

There were loud gasps as she said those words. The judge paled as she said this.

“Have you forgotten,” she continued, “that the curse is that every one of you will die one by

one. Regardless of where you go,” she added. “Please let us do what we have to. This is no time

to be acting innocent and naïve. Now I believe a certain Sheila has been stricken with illness. Let

us put her out of her misery. Yes?”. Slowly one by one al the heads nodded in agreement.

Later on that day, the villagers watched as Sheila’s body stopped swaying from a noose in the

centre of the village. Her face became pale in the hot midday sun. leaving her to hang naked,

the villagers went home, ignoring their consciences and finally after days of terror had that

night, a fully rested sleep.

The next day Sheila’s body had disappeared. This, the villagers thought was a sign that the

demon had accepted the sacrifice. The whole day was filled with much merry making which

lasted late into the night.

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A cry pierced through the morning air, however several villagers did not hear it. As the third

victim lay barely alive after being hanged in front of the health centre on a tall, mango tree, she

uttered her final words to her sister. “She is a killer. She pretends that she is a…she is a…I never

thought…snake”. That being said she died. Later that day the villagers harassed the sister for

information which she repeated and they all realized that the dying woman had been referring

to Ma Cecil.

Enraged all the villagers crowded together and once again marched towards Ma Cecil’s house,

this time armed with knives, cutlasses and rakes. Without knocking, the mob barged into ma

Cecil’s pristine home. As she voiced a loud, surprised protest, the crowd began to hit and kick

her. “No,” was the firm voice. “Let us give her the proper treatment. To the gallows!” said the

firm voice of the victim’s sister. The mob agreed and greedily grabbed the screaming, chanting

Ma Cecil, bringing her to the gallows.

The victim’s sister Pamela leaded the mob together with the village judge. As Ma Cecil was

pushed onto the platform, Pamela yelled, “Here is the monster that we have been blindly

following. The witch who had cast a spell on us. Where is the demon I say? Where?”. The

multitude yelled back in agreement.

Ma Cecil pleaded, “I did nothing. I have killed no one. Please, have, mercy.”

The judge yelled at her also on the platform, “For what? Why should we have mercy on you?”.

He yelled brandishing his arm towards the audience while he said it. Then the world seemed to

sway. She saw it. Pamela saw something which sickened her deeply. On her arm were fresh

finger scratch marks and she remembered her sister had skin under her nails. Also she

remembered that this woman had a tattoo of a snake on her shoulder. Her knees wobbling,

Pamela cried out, “You did it didn’t you?” she yelled towards the village judge. “It’s you. It was

you all along!”. After saying that, she tugged at the judge’s hair which came off easily as it was a

wig, revealing long, wavy, black hair.

Pamela remembered that the judge always had a snake tattoo and today had fresh scratch

marks, thus she made the connection. Yelling as if possessed while crowd grew silent, she

ripped at the judge’s cloth jacket revealing round female breasts in a brassiere. The judge was a

woman and the killer. The crowd was in shock for a few seconds. Then a few individuals jumped

onto the stage and held the judge down.

“Why?” Pamela asked sobbing now on her knees.

“I don’t know,” was the response.

After some individuals gave the judge whose nickname was Macy a few blows, they dragged

her and tied a noose around her neck. With Ma Cecil smiling and cheering them on, people

started to duplicate to Macy what she had done to her victims.

As Macy cried out, several birds flew away into the tree. The last thing Macy remembered was

the face of her first victim as they broke her bones.

End of Sample

Bloody Secrets Horror Stories

by Claire Joseph

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