This is the story when I have possessed the magical tome of Suelita. I have seen one hundred moons, this is surely enough for a girl’s life, though it is said that I should live much longer. I am ill and extremely tired.
The wild ones carry my names in their speeches, and that subtle voice is summoning me. A voice much deeper will speak into my ears every night with impatience. My soul will decide its final resting place, but before that, I must tell you all I can concerning the horrors that I saw that night. Receive this as a warning.
I Have found fear.
I came to possess this knowledge through strange circumstances. When I was seventeen years old, travelling alone I found a huge pillar in front of a jungle cave. That pillar had four carved symbols. It was firmly in the ground, nothing could have move that giant rock. I stopped wondering about those carvings and decided to build my camp at this location. I built a fire, laid my back on the giant stone to protect me from the animals in the jungle.
Three hours from Dawn, I was awakened by a strange howl. The fire had died to the cold night. In haste, I began to build another fire when the gray rock began to move; rising slowly in the air. I was petrified; fear grabbed me.
I heard a voice, not too far away and felt a fear greater than being crushed by that floating pillar. Quickly I took cover in the nearest bush. I tried to hold still and I rolled some weeds trying to stay calm and quiet. Another voice was heard, and suddenly out of nowhere at least twenty-five men in purple robes came encircling the rock.
I could not believe what I saw: the marking on the rock began to glow. Colors were changing at a rapid pace: Red, Orange, Blue, White and Yellow, then the rock went on fire. These men were chanting and praying together. I could not see their faces as they were hidden in their large hood. Suddenly the ground began to tremble. The magic chants of these diviners became hysterical.
Being a little downhill from the scene I was witnessing, I felt some substance between my toes. I touched it and my fingers were covered in blood. In panic I screamed giving my presence away. They turned toward me and I saw that they had ripped open a baby goat chest, some of them even had bowels in their hands. Now I know what is the food of these spirits: blood.
My scream disrupted their ritual and turned it into total chaos. Racing through the road from which I came, I could hear them running after me. It was a cold night of September, my heart was pounding in my chest and my head was burning hot. A flash of light blurred me, a lighting stroked right before me and shook the ground. In complete hysteria I fell.
As I was recovering from my fall, I turned to face whatever attacker had come nearest me, though I was unarmed. What I saw was no warlock of horror movies, but purple robes fallen upon the dirty ground, with no presence of life or bodies beneath them.
Walking back on the road that I had so fearfully run down moments ago, I kept walking passing more of the robes, in identical condition of the first one. Finally, I arrived in front of the pillar that was floating unnaturally in the air at the command of those magicians.
I lifted the dead animal head up in the air. My head began to ache as though the devil was pounding my skull. When a shaft of moonlight struck my forehead, I understood and placed the Animal head on top of mine. A voice entered my head and told me all the secrets of what I had witnessed earlier that night.
After that fateful night in the forest, I wandered alone in search of the key to the secret knowledge that had been given to me.
It was a painful and lonely journey, during which time I took no husband, and didn’t called my family. On rare occasion I was able to convince some learned man that I was a sincere apprentice of the craft, and was allowed to read some ancient manuscript in which the details of sorcery were given. I learned many spells, illness, plague blindness and insanity.
I am sickened by those voices I am now hearing, as the voices of my family left behind me so many years ago. I learned that they died of their own hand for unknown reasons. Can the wild ones take on so viciously the human voice of my parents? Are they trying to manipulate me?
The wild ones approach the limit of my sanctuary. I can hear them howling as they did that fateful night: they are calling my name.
Strange lines have appeared on my doors and walls; I fear for my flesh, but I fear for my spirit more.