by Thadd Presley
The man pushed the needle under her flesh and smiled. He whispered into her ear, as he pulled the plunger back. “Drugs aren’t exactly good or bad, you know?” Her, until now, uncorrupted blood mixed with the sick, brown liquid and delighted the man. “You’re like a medicine man,” he mused. “You’ve heard of then haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled. Already able to feel the strong concoction. “They’re like Indians…”
“Yeah, well kind of, but many cultures them. They were the people who had the guts to try things the others were too afraid to do.”
She nodded. “Like shaman?” She pronounced it slowly: “Shay-men.”
“Exactly. They’d go into the spirit world and come back with knowledge from the other side.”
She smiled. “Like wisdom.”
“That’s right! And it would change everyone’s life? They found out things from the ancestors and were decades ahead of their time. Centuries, even.
“Are you afraid?”
He pushed the plunger and forced the liquid into her vein. She smiled as the numbness flowed across her chest and up her neck. Her eyes drooped twice and then closed peacefully as she slipped from the world of the living and entered the spirit world.
Copyright Thadd Presley — All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.