Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Witch Doctor

Here is my second attempt at the five word writing challenge.  Just like last time, I requested on Facebook that five friends each give me a word, and then I would use those five words in a piece of flash fiction (usually less than 1500 words).  And thus, I present to you the result of that attempt, Witch Doctor.

Words:
Salmon
Dachshund
Toenail
Intravenous
Waterfall

Witch Doctor

“My life is in danger,” I said to the small man seated cross-legged on the other side of the fire.  The colorful paint on his face glimmered in the light of the fire, the piercings that covered his body causing strange shadows to dance on the thick trees behind him.  I had hiked for several days through the tropical forest to find this man, the witch doctor of the Eastern Woods, a man known to hold powers that no other man could hold.  He was the cure to the fear that had taken over my life over the last two weeks.  It was all I could think about, and my very life depended on this man.
I had arrived at the witch doctor’s small hut four days ago, explaining to him my dire situation.  I am a man of the people, serving on the highest council in country’s capital city.  There were nine of us serving together as advisors to the prime minister.  There were nine.  Now there is one.  The other eight were murdered in their homes, or on walks with their children, or while riding in a limousine on the way to a meeting.  One by one their bodies were discovered, no signs of death or even a struggle, no life remaining.  I didn’t know who killed them or for what purpose, but I knew I was next.  I had to do something drastic.  Believing my bodyguards and trusty sidearm would be insufficient defense, I sought the man that now sits before me, hoping he could provide some additional protection against the oncoming foe.
“There is a potion,” he had said two days ago in a deep and slowly rolling voice, after I sat down and explained my unfortunate situation.  “The potion will protect you from your enemies in supernatural ways.  You must do exactly what I tell you.  Do not stray from even a single instruction, or things will not go well.”
I didn’t want to believe what I was doing.  In a world of cars flying through the sky and robots doing much of the physical labor, here I am, sitting around a campfire in a forest, listening to a witch doctor talk about magical potions.  I started to regret my decision, and yet, his reputation proceeded him.  This man had done many inexplicable things, and he was paid well for it.  He had only started talking to me when I set the bag of gold on the ground, which was quickly carried away by one of his many similarly dressed servants.  It all seemed too strange for me, but I made myself feel better by remembering that I’m only using his services for protection, and that the potion he is creating is not one of his infamous poisons.
On the first day, he told me to do nothing but sit by the fire and think about the people who may be trying to kill me.  He told me to envision them and their purposes.  I didn’t know who they were, so I mainly thought about the upcoming football games.
On the second day, he told me to venture out into the forest.  “Travel west three miles, to a large tree long split in two by fire from the sky,” he said.  “You must then turn north, travel two miles, until your ears perceive the noise of rushing water.  Follow the noise to the base of a great waterfall, and there you will find many living things in the water.  You must bring back a specimen from the base of the falls, and only from the base.  There will be fish of many different kinds, rainbowfish and angelfish and leaf fish, but you must stand in the water and wait, and soon enough you will find a silver fish with blue markings.  You must reach in with your hands and catch this fish and bring it back, alive.”
I did exactly what he said.  I stood there in the water for two hours before the silver fish came swimming by.  It looked like a salmon.  After several attempts, I pulled it from the water and placed it in a small water basin I had brought with me.  When I returned to the witch doctor, he was still sitting by the fire, but there was now a black pot sitting over the flames.  I sat the basin beside him.  He reached into it and pulled out the fish and proceeded to break it in half, which I hadn’t thought possible to do to a slippery fish.  A thick blue liquid poured from its insides into the pot.
On the third day, he told me to follow a path.  “Travel the road to the east four miles,” he said, “until you come to a small village with dwellings built from the forest.  In the middle there is a well of stone.  You must sit down and wait.  People will walk by, but you must not speak to them.  A young maiden will approach, with a silver dress and blue flowers in her hair, and she will fill her bucket from the well.  You must then offer her this.”  He held out his hand, showing a violet berry.  “You must take what she gives you.”
I did exactly what he said.  I sat for two hours before the young woman with a silver dress and blue flowers in her hair approached, filling her bucket from the well.  I then offered her the berry.  She took it, ate it, and then did one somewhat normal thing, followed by several very abnormal things.  She took a cloth from a pocket in her simple dress and laid it on the well.  Reaching back into the pocket, she took a knife and cut off several long brown hairs from her head, placing them on the cloth.  She then cut off several of her eyelashes and a piece of a toenail, placing them each on the cloth.  Finally, she folded up the cloth and bound it together with twine from her pocket.  She then took her bucket of water and left.
Sitting back in front of the witch doctor, really starting to think this may have been a bad idea, I watched as he took the girl’s hair, eyelashes, and toenail, and dropped them into the pot, mixing it with the blue liquid from the fish.
On the fourth day, he told me to once again venture out into the forest.  “Travel west three miles, to a large tree long split in two by fire from the sky,” he said.  “There you will find many living things in the branches.  You must climb the tree and bring back a specimen from the largest of the branches, and only from the largest.  There will be birds of many different kinds, macaws and trogons and lorikeets, but you must sit on the branch and wait, and soon enough you will find a silver bird with blue markings.  You must reach out with your hands and catch this bird and bring it back, alive.”
I did exactly what he said.  As I sat on that branch waiting, I wondered why I didn’t stop by this tree two days earlier, but I decided not to question the witch doctor.  I waited for two hours before the silver bird with blue markings flew to the large branch I was sitting on.  The bird allowed me to catch it easily and place it within a small metal cage I had brought with me.
Sitting back in front of the witch doctor, I watched as he took the bird and used tweezers made from two small bones to extract something small and black from the bird’s mouth.  He dropped it into the pot, mixing it with the blue liquid from the fish and the girl’s hair, eyelashes, and toenail.
It is now the fifth day, early in the morning.  I half expect him to send me to a dog park, instructing me to wait until a silver dachshund with a blue collar approaches.  Instead, I find myself laying on my back on a mat near the fire.  The witch doctor sits, stirring the pot, as it generates blue bubbles.  He then takes a very modern looking syringe and sticks it into the pot, filling it with the potion.  He comes over and, without saying anything, sticks the needle in my arm, filling me with an intravenous injection of magical potion.  For a moment, I feel nothing.  And then I feel terrible.
The witch doctor stands over me, and then smiles, and then grins a terrible grin.  “It will be quick, worry not.”
I try to ask him why I feel so terrible, but I can’t form any words.  I can’t move.
“Your ambition has granted me a much simpler task than I had with the others, your fellow councilors, coming to assemble your own concoction.”
What?
“All ends lead to new beginnings.”

My vision starts to fade, and then…

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