Brujas TOC
Read Brujas pt. 2
Previously: We heard the details of Jenna's plots against Kim and Loré, including the loss of loved ones. Catriz decides to help them.
⚠️ Content warning: the below passage contains graphic content and discusses pregnancy loss and animal sacrifice.
Night crept into the desert valley and enfolded the ranch with a swoop of its shadowy wings, descending with a sigh. A flickering red light danced along the interior walls of the adobe house, finding its way in through the narrow slits where the fabric of the curtains failed to meet.
Kim and Loré emerged from the house, their clothes and hair rumpled from laying on the hastily assembled cots on the floor. They walked far enough apart to signal that they did not want to speak to each other, but close enough so neither had to be completely alone.
Kim stepped carefully on the stone path to the mesquite tree, crossing her arms in front of herself against the slight chill of the night. Loré followed, dragging her feet slightly, with a bottle of something dark hanging from one hand and an expression of bored disgust on her face.
In the pit near the mesquite tree, unnaturally bright flames from a bonfire broke the surface tension of the sea of repose that had overtaken the valley. Fresh orange marigold blossoms had been placed among the various bones lining the pit. Empty black eye sockets in the brittle skulls of small desert creatures seemed to follow Kim as she approached. She shivered and cast a nervous glance around, knowing that a silent desert night still crawls with potential danger.
Loré trudged up next to Kim and took a swig from the bottle she held. She did not offer the other woman a drink.
Catriz appeared from the darkness behind the tree, wrapped in a pale linen robe that barely brushed the ground, fastened at the waist with a simple belt of the same fabric. Swaying black slashes of long, loose hair broke the uniform whiteness of her robe, as if the fingers of night were trying to caress her as she walked.
In one hand, she held a ceramic bowl, and in the other, she held a brown hen tucked against her side. The hen's beady eyes matched the glossy black dish, and all three impenetrable surfaces reflected the licking flames with extreme clarity.
Kneeling in the dirt, she placed the bowl next to the fire and cradled the chicken. She spent a few moments stroking its head and back, murmuring quietly. The bird seemed to go into a trance then, its eyes wide and trained on the dancing light.
She produced a small, sharp knife from a pocket in her robe and laid it against the side of the chicken's head, under the jawbone. The blade glinted as she swiftly dragged it downward, severing the artery. In a flash, she moved the knife to the other side and severed the artery there as well. She held the bird upside down over the bowl and closed her eyes as it bled out, her lips moving in a silent chant.
Kim began to sob with the first slice. Loré's reactions were slowed by the alcohol she'd been consuming all evening, but when the blood began to flow, she broke into a sweat and started to panic.
"No way. None of that dark magic shit."
She turned to go, tossing the bottle off to the side. It clunked against the hard-packed soil and rolled away with a sing-song tinkling.
Catriz held the chicken up over her head, whispered something to the sky, then tossed it into the blaze. Her voice carried out across the air, as jarring as a slammed door in an empty house.
"Loré."
Leaves rustled, the chain link fence rattled, and a spray of dirt hit Loré's retreating figure. The younger woman stopped in her tracks and turned a wide, terror-filled eye over her shoulder to look at Catriz. Framed by her wild locks, her features were hauntingly beautiful, even at a distance, carved by the orange glow as it fought the shadows, eyes like polished black mirrors reflecting Loré back to herself.
Catriz made her way toward Loré, who was frozen in place. Soft crunching sounds punctuated each footstep as individual grains of silt and clay rubbed together, her bare feet leaving no marks behind.
"You're not going to run away, because you can't. I don't know if someone put that darkness in you, or if you inherited it, but it is never going to leave you."
The warmth of the bonfire washed over Loré as Catriz stopped uncomfortably close to her. She grabbed Loré's hand and squeezed hard, even as her voice took on a sympathetic tone.
"You drink too much because you fear this darkness. Even before Jenna. But you are stronger than you think. You can handle it, I promise you."
Loré began to shake, but she kept her eyes locked onto the mesmerizing orbs set into Catriz's face, which had grown sharper in contrast — a skeletal visage.
"Darkness is just power. Light is love. Balance them. There is no right and wrong. Only balance," she gripped harder, still, "We keep both equal in order to survive. There is darkness in all of us, but we three can balance each other out. Kim's request comes from a place of love, and we must use the darkness to fulfill it."
Loré closed her eyes and nodded.
"Jenna is coming for both of you and now me. I won't let her hurt you and I won't let you hide from yourself," she loosened her grip on Loré's hand but did not let go. There was a shift in her tone and her words regained their usual brusque quality, "No llores. We're going to stop this pinche bruja and teach her a lesson."
Loré's legs wobbled but she followed as Catriz tugged at her hand. As they passed a weeping Kim, Catriz held out her other hand and led them both to the fire. As the three of them walked together, linked by their hands and their tragedies, they each felt a sweet warmth grow in their chest, as if they'd swallowed a spoonful of hot agave.
Catriz spoke with authority to the others, drawing their hands up to the center of her chest. They could feel her heart pounding hard on strong wings of protection within.
"Once we begin, we cannot stop. Do as I say; let me guide you. Whatever you see or hear, do not leave the circle until I say so."
She dropped their hands as they entered the bubble of heat. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small jar of salt and began drawing a large circle, enclosing the fire and the tree within. She disappeared behind the tree for an instant, and when she reappeared on the other side, she spoke again.
"Most importantly, never, ever tell anyone about what we do here tonight."
Catriz finished the salt circle and dropped the jar onto the ground. From the same pocket, she produced a small vial and a palm-sized white cloth sachet. Crouching down near the blossoms and bones, she sprinkled the contents of the sachet into the bowl containing the chicken's blood. Then she uncorked the vial and poured the milky liquid on top.
She stood, holding the offering in her hands and whispering something in quick bursts of an unknown tongue. Raising the bowl above her head, she spoke to Kim, who stood with Loré on the other side of the fire. Her voice rose with expansive power, a roaring wave crashing into a jagged escarpment. The night seemed to shudder in response.
"Kimberly, ven, enter the circle. Bring only your true self, and entrust it to íỹ'we and all the ancestors whose blood flows through your veins."
With deliberate, slow movements, Kim removed her clothing. She left it in a pile on the dirt, and stepped over the line of salt, a look of solemn purpose having replaced the tears on her face.
Loré's eyebrows shot up into her hairline as she watched. She unconsciously moved her hands to cover her still-clothed form.
"I'm not getting naked," she blurted out.
Catriz ignored her. Nodding for Kim to stand in front of the mesquite tree, she continued.
"Mija, stay strong. We need the blood from your loss. Gather it in your hands and rub it on your belly."
Kim's face drained of its color, but she obeyed, squatting low to the ground. She exhaled in long, slow breaths as she pushed, spreading her knees apart and cupping her hands underneath herself to catch the blood and tissue.
Loré's heart pounded in her ears as she watched the muscles in Kim's legs and stomach twitch in the firelight. After a few moments, Kim stood and rubbed her hands together, spreading the thick mucus over them. Her lips quivered and her eyes held a look of detached shock as she smeared the red blood and small chunks on the brown flesh of her trembling stomach.
Catriz stepped forward with the bowl and dipped her middle and index fingers into the mixture. She drew a symbol that resembled a flower mixed with a triangle on Kim's forehead, before handing the vessel to her.
"Drink."
As Kim sipped at the blood and herbs, Catriz removed her robe and stood nude with her. She uttered something in a deep voice as she took the bowl back. She turned to face Loré, who still stood outside of the circle, mouth slack with horror, chest heaving, fingers buried in her close-cropped dark hair, pulling on what handfuls she could grasp.
"This is so much worse than what Jenna did," Loré said this more to herself than anyone else.
Catriz spoke patiently, "Leave your clothes on, if you want, but you will enter the circle and present yourself to íỹ'we. We can't fight this poison Jenna has created without a dreadful force of our own. Don't be scared. Everything we are conjuring already exists in some form around you, in the air, the trees, the dirt, in your sweat — we are just communicating with it directly. Now, join us."
Loré's mind filled with an image of Arturo's body, covered in blood, his eyes fluttering helplessly to the tune of Jenna's maniacal laughter. The sound rang in her ears now as clearly as it had when she had come to, banging on her nerves with a baseball bat, worse than nails on a chalkboard.
It was then that Elvis stepped out from behind the tree — a black, hunched over mass, with glowing red dots floating in the space that would have been its head. Elvis nodded once and Loré felt a light shove between her shoulder blades. A vibrating tingle crept over her hands and wrapped around her fingers, easing them free of her hair and pulling her forward. She held onto the vision of Arturo tightly, remembering why she was there.
When Loré entered the circle, all of her fear evaporated and she felt seen and understood for the first time in her life. Catriz approached her, bloody fingers ready to draw the symbol on her forehead. She felt the bowl enter her hands and heard Catriz urge her to drink, saying that it would taste good. As the concoction passed between Loré's lips, a molten geyser of pleasure rained down over her entire body. It was good. It was exquisite.
The drink left her feeling buzzed and hot inside, better than any bottle of bourbon had. She swayed and smiled before catching herself. What sounded like wind stirring through feathers filled her ears and she became aware of a ring of red eyes at the edge of the salt perimeter. She blinked and it was gone.
Catriz took the dish and placed her entire hand into the blood. Her hand came away dripping, rich, living trickles sizzling as they fell to the earth. She placed her palm on her forehead, closed her eyes, and drew it down over her face slowly, leaving a red trail in its wake. When her eyes opened, the two stark white spotlights with dark centers hovering in a mask of red met Loré's fascinated gaze. The women smiled at each other, teeth flashing like daggers — two wild coyote grins before a feast.
Catriz drank of the sacrificial liquor and tossed it into the flames. The fire raged in response, climbing higher and dancing between the limbs and leaves of the mesquite tree overhead.
When the older woman lifted her hands up to the sky, the others followed suit without hesitation. When she started to chant, they repeated every syllable. When the heat grew to an inferno, when the clouds rolled in on a swirling wind, when the lightning bolt sprang upward from the tree, they did not flinch or cry out or break the circle. When Catriz's eyes rolled back into her head, her sclera glazed over with a writhing, shifting iridescent surface, all three women raised their voices in a synchronized ululating howl to the ancestors.
CRACK!
Cover art comprised of original images by K. Mitch Hodge and Mulyadi, edited under the Unsplash license.
This is beautiful and heartbreaking and breathtaking in its sacred intensity 🖤 honored to bare witness, because that’s what it feels like I’m doing here.
This is my favorite chapter so far. Strikingly haunting and beautiful, especially as it closes in on its climax. Wow that last paragraph.