"Welcome to the Congo"
She was garmented down to her knees in sheer white linen, her feet bare, her earthy skin glistening in the midday sun, and her surroundings wild. The bushes, the trees, the river, the sounds, and the scents were all rather familiar. It was as if she had been in this very moment before. She seemed to glide through the dense jungle only to behold a hidden system of magnificent waterfalls. On the cliff overlooking the world waited a man she knew very well to be her destiny. It was with him that she would become the Queen of the Congo…..
She stood in the assembly line of chained women etching away at the rocks with rusted chisels. Slaves they all were now and together the women worked through the pain, the sweat, the humiliation, and the dreaded unknown of what the coming days would bring. What would become of the Congolese? Of the Congo? Her frustration caused her to smash the rocks into splinters and as each splinter flew through the air she gave their slaver an intense look. She vowed that she would kill him.
Her memories of a time when this slaver did not exist were faint. She was free, the Congolese were free, and the Congo unmastered. Her heart was at one with her on the cliff overlooking Inga. Then it all vanished when this vilain appeared, and with him he brought soldiers, he brought pain, he brought torture, and he brought death.
Her daydream faded as she caught a glimpse of her love being pushed to the mines with the rest of the men. She prayed that he would look back. Her heart nearly sunk in her chest when he did. His deep blue eyes pierced through her soul as they had done for decades and for a moment they were where they meant to be. She watched him slowly disappear out of sight as the soldiers forced him into the depths with the others.
The earth-skinned women continued to catch Whitley's eye again, and again. He saw her gazing at the European mine worker. The anger and jealousy filled up inside him. His desire to own her grew more each passing day as he watched her smash the rocks into smithereens. He was obsessed with her animalistic spirit, her fierce eyes, and her ravishing body. He would break her one way or the other. He was a hunter and she would be hunted. He'd have her only one way and that would be in chains. He salvated at the thought of owning her, of her begging for him to stop. He motioned to one of his men. " Bring me the woman!" he demanded.
She continued to chisel away when two soldiers approached her. Her grip on the chisel tensed. One man grabbed her arm while the other hit the back of her knee with a club causing her to fall to her knees. Both men grabbed her by the arms and were forced to drag her as she fought with all her strength. The women gasped in shock as she managed to break free momentarily and punched one of the men in the nose, causing him to bleed profusely. The other held on tightly while his comrade continued to cower in pain over his broken face. A third man ran to their aid to help detain the wild woman.
She had witnessed countless nights where these men dragged off women for their own tortuous pleasure. Each night she heard the screams and she felt the pain. She could not fathom how these men who once belonged to the Congo sold their souls to the white devil all for the promise of wealth which stories passed down through time had warned would be their demise. They dragged her along up the hill to where the slaver was overseeing his business dealings. He was an aged man, light-skinned, strawberry blonde hair with traces of gray, his face brutally weathered over the years by the intensity of the sun, and his eyes covered by dark polarized sunglasses. His face was emotionless. If you were to expose what was underneath you would know the darkness that lies behind those assumed no soul existed in this man.
The men tired from attempting to restrain this wild woman were relieved when they were able to throw her at Whitley's feet. Her white linen dress was covered in dirt and tears that barely covered her naked body. Whitley stood from his seat and stepped towards her. He kneeled down beside her and grabbed her by the hair so that he could pull her head to his. " They call you the Queen of the Congo". " She turned her hazel eyes to him. He could feel the heat from her breath and from her body. It was intoxicating. " I am no queen and the Congo belongs to no one. Not even you can have her! " she stuttered under her breath. " No,you're just an animal like the rest of them!" He let go of his grip and then slowly caressed her face. " Do you know what I do with animals?" he asked her. " What do you do?" she said. " I break them!" he smirked. He stood up and motioned his men to bring her to her feet. Her hair was dark at the roots with tints of copper-red everywhere else. Her eyes changed color with the light. He took his knife, stepped close to her and put the knife to her neck and slowly traced over her clavicle, to her right shoulder and cut the linen, and then traced down her breast,down her navel, and down to her hips, and then stopped at her pelvic region. The smile he displayed sickened her to her stomach. She stood there unable to do anything. She could only stare into the jungle abyss. He put his knife down and told the men to put her in the cage. The men forcefully dragged her and threw her into what would be her new prison. She could hear the key turn as one of the men locked it. She managed to get to her feet and grasped at the bars. She let out a roar of anger and rage. She did not stop till the men sprayed her with water using a power hose. The strength of the water stung her skin like sharp needles. She collapsed from the pain and fell to the ground. When they were about to spray again Whitley stopped them. He saw her lying on the ground and her linen dress soaked to where he could see what was hidden. His desire to tame her grew even more. " Spray her again," he screamed. So his men turned the hose back on and aimed at her. The pressure of the water for her was too much and the stinging was like needles puncturing her skin. She could feel what fight she had left in her fading. All she could do was lay there on the soil turned while it turned to mud. " Stop!" he demanded. He had the cage opened so he could go inside. He kneeled beside her and turned her over. He caressed her face and then grabbed her chin. " I will break you!' he told her. Her semi-conscious state prevented her from responding to his words. He released his grip then tore at the linen dress exposing her naked body even more. " Get her on her feet and bring the chains!". She couldn't remember being propped up to her feet or when they chained her to a wooden pole so that her arms were placed above her head .
The days drew on as she remained chained, naked, defeated, and afraid. Never in her life had she been afraid till Whitley caged her like an animal. The things he did to her and the look in his eyes when he did it haunted her every waking moment. Many times there was nothing in his eye. Just darkness!
The first encounter she remembered all too well. It was late in the night and the humidity was unforgiving. He ordered his men to open the cage and he entered. He held a whip in one hand and a stun gun in the other. He came closer to her and got even closer. She could feel his breath on her neck. He raised the stun gun to her neck and started tracing it down. He would waive it away and pull the trigger to make her shutter. He continued to trace the stun gun down her body until he reached her thighs and pulled the trigger. She couldn't let out a cry as the pain seemed to immobilize her. He could see tears running down her face and he smiled. He moved up to her hips and pushed the trigger again as he continued to watch the tears run down her face. He could feel her fear of him intensify. He traced the stun gun up to her breasts. She braced herself for what was to be expected next, but he didn't pull the trigger. With his free hand he touched her right breast. He caressed it and began to rub her nipple. He placed the stun gun in his pocket. His hands on her body made her sick and disgusted. He slid his hand down her hips and found his way to her pelvic region. She felt nothing as he stuck his fingers inside her. She didn't breathe. she didn't move. She just waited for it to end.
He removed his fingers. He decided that he needed more from her. He had his men unchain her and shut the cage behind them. Whitley had held back his urges for far too long. He would have her tonight. He pushed her to the ground, got on top of her, and pinned her arms down. He lowered his face down to hers forcing her to look into his eyes. All she saw was darkness and it terrified her because there was nothing human in them. He raised himself up and forcefully spread her legs apart. He got himself ready and pushed himself into her. He pinned her arms down again and began thrusting. He forced her to look into his eyes while continuing to thrust back and forth. If she tried to keep her eyes closed he squeezed her wrists even tighter. His grip was so tight that she thought her wrists might break. He thrusted even harder and harder until he was done with her. She couldn't cry any tears, she couldn't move nor could she feel anything. Before he removed himself he kissed her forehead and left her to lay defeated and broken.
The hours passed as she lay there facedown in silence. She was still covered in the filth he left from the night before. Her mind went in and out of consciousness, she saw glimpses of him on top of her, she felt his hot breath on her neck, and she slid further into darkness.
She found herself at Inga with her " destiny" . The breeze brushed against her skin and the sun filled her with warmth. She opened her eyes and saw the one. He held her in his gaze. He seemed aged and worn by his imprisonment in the mines. " Can you ever forgive me?" she asked while the tears rolled down her cheeks. He embraced her and drew her close. " You had no choice," he said to her. The atmosphere grew dark and the moon pierced through the evening sky. His blue eyes glowed in the night as he looked right into her soul. She knew at that moment he would always be her destiny. She knew that when the time was right she would see him again. And with this truth of the heart she opened herself up to him all through the night.
The stinging sensation of water drove her to wake from her deep somber. She felt men pulling at her and moving her onto her back. She heard the slaver yell at them to take her from the cage. The next few moments were a daze. She was brought to a tent with women that tended to her bath, cleaned the filth and the earth off her, and healed her wounds. The next few days she would remain in a state of still darkness only to be born again with the purpose laid ahead of her.
She woke in the dead of night. The air suffocated her from the dense humidification of the jungle. Not a sight, not a sound from anywhere. She rose from her sleeping mats and left the tent. She was looking for something or someone that called her from her sleepful state. She ventured further into the night, remaining unseen by the slaver's guards. Somehow she knew the path and the way in the dark. She knew she had been summoned.
It was often spoken long ago that on a chosen night the spirits would come for her. The spirits of Mami Wata would seek her out and she would embrace her path. She had been told this all her life. She never believed the stories and the rumors about her origins. She did not believe that the Congo would choose her. She did not believe it was her that was destined to rise and become "The Queen of The Congo". To her it wasn't necessarily that she was the " Queen" but rather she was the warrior that would bring the one they had been waiting for.
She journeyed further into the darkness. Somehow she knew the steps to take and she knew the path to follow. There was nothing that could explain how she knew. She just did. Her nighttime journey seemed without the bounds of time and it felt like she was not in the world she had left behind. With a blink of an eye she found herself in jungle clearing that gave way to the light of the moon hitting the still water that formed a small lake in the dense rainforest.
She fell to the ground near the edge of the water and began to chant the words she had learned so many years begged and pleaded to Mami Wata to help her bring the Queen back to her people. The sacred chanting caused all her life and energy to leave her body and seep into the waters. Her lifeless body lay there for what seemed like ages until the waters started to ripple and then slowly begin to part ways. A figure emerged from the water. It was a woman tall, strong, dark ebony skin,mysterious and mesmerizing. She was draped in black layers, leopard skins, and a serpent crown of emeralds, diamonds, and gold. The woman made her way to the land and gave view to the bottom half of her body that showed her half-fish form. Her lower half soon matched her human features. She knelt down beside the body of the woman that had called upon her. She placed the woman on her back and blew gold life into the lifeless body. It took moments for her to come to life again. The leopard woman's eyes opened and she gazed upon her queen. " The Queen of the Congo," she whispered. "I knew you would come."
She felt revitalized and felt alive! The immense power that flowed through her veins was like fire. She felt this intense hunger that she hadn't known for a long time. She was ravenous as a wildcat. She could feel the agony of her power waiting to be unleashed. Only one thing could squash that hunger. Whitley's death!
She made her way back to her tent unnoticed by the guards and the women that had attended to her. She could not rest until she saw Whitley. She garmented herself in leopard skins and scented her skin with orchid oil. She could feel the tips of her fingers aching and her teeth pushing through her gums. She had to hold back the fire til the moment was right.
She left her tent in the veil of darkness toward the clearing above where Whitley would watch his " wild animals". She could smell his scent and the hunger within her started to intensify. The pain from holding back the fire and the transformation was almost unbearable.
The first time she transformed was many years ago. He was a young man unbothered by the scarring of chains and the silt of the mines. He was so beautiful. He was young and unaware of the monster inside her.
She never heeded the warnings of her elders about what happens in the dark. Her Nganga always warned her about the dangers of being out at night. She blew them off as nothing but superstition. If only she had listened. Maybe, the future would have paved a different path.
If history had told a different story she could have grown old with him, had children, and grandchildren. She could have grown older like him. She could have been completely human.
Many women of her village dreamed of having the power to retain their youth. They would seek out witchdoctors and conjure up spirits to keep their youthful beauty intact but with immortality comes great pain and great sorrow. It was forbidden to call upon these powerful spirits and to seek out help from the witch doctors that would give them this gift. The punishment was often banishment and in some cases even death.
She never conjured spirits. She was born a monster that prevented her from experiencing all of what it was to be a woman in this world.
His scent grew stronger the closer to his tent she got. The need to hold back her fire was growing even more difficult. She could feel her blood boil and the pain increase throughout her body. She knelt to the ground and dug her claws into the earth. It took everything that was human in her to restrain the monster inside her from lashing out.
She rose from the ground and unclenched her fists. The pain in her hands was almost unbearable but still human. She slowly drew back the flaps of Whitley's tent and entered.
Whitley was lounging in his chair garnished with mahogany wood and ivory. He was enjoying a repugnant glass of whiskey when he heard the flaps of his tent open. To his delight it was her. Her scent was intoxicating and her eyes dazzled him. Her lean but curvaceous body was garmented in the skins of the wild leopard. He felt a surge of excitement come over him. He took another sip of his whiskey, " Well, well, look what the cat brought in!". He placed his glass down and stared her up and down while analyzing every crevice, curve, and rawness of her body. Something seemed much different about her tonight. She wasn't afraid but she wasn't wild. She was tamed. She stood there staring at him intensely and not saying a word to him.
He gripped the arms of his chair as she came closer to him. Her scent grew even stronger and it was almost too much for Whitley to contain himself. He tried to rise from his chair as she stood within inches from him but he decided to let her come to him. " I knew you would give in. You would see how it should be. You will obey me and you will desire my touch." he said. She still didn't respond to his words. Before he could do anything she straddled him in his chair and stared deeply into his soulless eyes. Whitley could feel the heat radiating from her body. She felt like she was on fire. He moved his hands up the small of her back and slowly back down to her waist, and then down to her thighs. He moved his right hand to the front of her left thigh and decided to slide his fingers up her thigh. He found his touch to be invited as she did not repulse at the sudden feel of his fingers on her clit. He moved them in a circular motion, going in and out of her, as he watched her intense eyes never leave him. He decided he had to see more of her body. He removed the leopard skins so that he could expose her breasts. He could feel the tingling sensation in his loins grow. He prefered she resist him but he would savor the encounter. He started rubbing both her breasts and fumbled her nipples with his fingers. He could hear her breathing get heavier and see her luscious lips start to become engorged. She felt his loins and started to rub his member. " I want you inside me" she whispered in his ear.
It took everything in her to hold back the beast raging to get out. Her human side was disgusted with what was happening, but the animal in her needed that climax to complete the transformation. She moved his hands back to her thighs and guided them up again to pleasure her. Whitley obeyed her and continued to slowly stroke her clit back and forth while rubbing her left nipple with his free hand. He could feel her grind back and forth along his fingers. She was enjoying every minute of his touch. He knew she was getting closer and he wanted her to plead for it. He wanted her to demean herself for it. " Not yet, I want you to beg me!" he pulled his hand from her wet insides. He threw her to the ground and got on top of her. She still didn't resist. He feared he would lose his erection if she didn't fight back. He forced his knee between her legs and slid his right hand inside her again. He could feel her quiver and hear her moans get louder. He decided he would devour her. He pulled his hand out, lowered his face to hers, stared into her eyes but she still didn't show any fear of him. He moved down to her breasts with his tongue, and then down her stomach, her hips, and then he began to tongue her clit. She arched her back at the sudden sensation of his tongue flicking her clit. He moved his hands back to her breasts and started rubbing her nipples. She got wetter and more delicious the closer he brought her to the edge. He decided to speed up the motion of his tongue while he continued to rug her nipples. He knew she would explode at any moment. Her moans grew louder and her breathing more rapid as he kept going. He started to feel her quiver with pleasure as he tongued her harder until she burst at the seams. Her moans were so intoxicating to him. She enjoyed every minute of it. He could feel her dig her pelvis into his face and thrust her clit harder against his tongue till she couldn't bear it anymore. He didn't stop rubbing her nipples as he could tell how badly she wanted all of herself to be touched.
She couldn't explain why she enjoyed what Whitley had done to her so much. She knew any minute the leopard within her would show itself. " I want you inside me,'' she begged him. Whitley smiled and unbuttoned his shirt and undid his pants. His erection was still pulsating. He had to get inside her before he lost it. He had to make her moan for him again. He touched the tip of his dick to her clit to get her aroused again while he rubbed a nipple with his free hand. He could see her squirm with delight at his touch. He rubbed his penis up and down from her clit to her pussy allowing her juices to cover him before he slid it in. He heard her gasp as he entered her and moved back and forth. She wrapped her legs around his waist and begged him to go harder and deeper. He could feel her nails on his back digging in. He was encouraged to keep going as she begged him not to stop. He started to thrust harder and then he felt a sharp pain in his back. He felt it hit him again. He cried out in pain and had to stop. " Why are you stopping?" she asked him. He looked into her eyes but something was much different. She wasn't moaning in pleasure anymore. She was something else. Her eyes grew very dark and her facial features grew more distinct. She spoke to him again and he could see her teeth were no longer teeth. She had fangs like a wild cat. He tried to get off of her but she wouldn't let him. Her embrace of him was too strong for him to break. With ease she rolled him onto his back and kept herself on top of him. Whitley tried to scream for his men but she dug her nails into his chest. " I told you I'm no Queen. I'm something much darker." She lowered her face to his neck and took in his scent as he trembled in fear. " Isn't it funny that the one that is afraid now is you!" she whispered in his ear. She continued to sniff him. The scent of his fear excited her even more. He was her prey and she was ready to go in for the kill.
She felt a hard blow to the right side of her chest. It took her a moment to realize she had been shot. The pain seemed to take minutes to hit her but she felt like an immense weight was holding her down.
One of Whitley's men had entered the tent while she was in the midst climaxing in his mouth. The man had seen everything and he had seen what she was turning into while Whitley was fucking her. He had heard the dark stories of the woman that would transform into a leopard after sexual encounters with a man. Once she transformed, death would follow. IThe old stories spoke of the only thing to prevent this was a metal from the deep in the mines. Some of the whites called it "cobalt".
She fell over and onto her back. The pain from the bullet pushed further into her chest. She could feel herself starting to turn. This was the part she was always most afraid of because once she turned there may be no turning back.
The last time she turned was in the mountains. She had deserted her village after what she did all those years ago to those men the first time. The journey was long and treacherous but it was one she had to venture on alone. She had to know what she was and why. She was taken to the land of the Leopard People by an old healer who watched over the lakes below the mountainous pass. She paid the healer with her violet jewels her Nganga had gifted her.
They were said to be something much more than human. They were both leopard and man together in one body. Many of the people that dwell below the mountains both feared and revered these god-like beings. They rarely showed themselves to the human world. On a rare moon they would require an offering of a bride to one of their own. The chosen bride would be led up the mountain path and presented to their chief and then paired with a male of his choosing. She had been told that the children of these matings would walk in both the human and animal world.
She remembered that she had asked the woman if any of the leopard men had left the mountains. The Nganga told her of a male leopard that had left the mountain pass many moons ago to enter the rainforest. There were stories that he had fallen in love with a young woman of the "great river people" . As a result of their many encounters a child was born but it was never found. The old woman did not say if the Leopard man had ever returned to the land.
When she asked how these children could walk in both worlds the woman told her that they could not take form until adulthood. The males would transform after their coming of age rituals ( ritual Leopard hunt) while the women would take form after experiencing a release from her body. Both a male and female halflings would sometimes change after their sexual encounters lead to a climax. For the Leopard People, the sexual act was so primal yet human. There lay a great power in the gratification of being taken over the edge as she had come to find out.
The bullet continued to push further into her chest. She knew it was the blue metal they had warned her about in the mountains. They told her it was one of the few things that could kill her. She couldn't let herself pass before she saw her people free.
Whitley had his men drag her outside and chain her to a post. " Round them all up!", he screamed at his men. The men forced all of her fellow Congolese to watch Whitley beat her with a cobalt baton. The pain from the bullet digging further into her chest and from the beating was too much to bear. She was in agony. She knew she was dying. She didn't know how much more she could take. Whitley's face grew with even more excitement with every hit. " Unchain her!" he yelled to his men. " I want him to watch," he screamed.
Her vision was getting blurry and her mental clarity was going in and out. She could see Whitley's men bringing a man in chains to the front of the mass crowd. She knew who it was. She wished he did not have to witness this. The men threw him down on the ground in front of her. He had been beaten like an animal and kept in chains like the others.
She let her mind take her back to when she had first laid eyes on him again. It had been so many years. He was aged with a blend of gray in his jet-black hair. The creases in his face were more distinct. He kept his hair shorter as there would be no trace of the curls he had as a young man. What had never changed was the power and intensity of those dark blue eyes. He was standing at the edge of the ' great falls' with his back to her when she saw him again. He turned around and she fell in love with him all over again.
For her, it was as if time had stopped. He walked towards her as she ran to him, and he embraced her in his arms. His hand held her face so that she could look into his beautiful blue eyes before he kissed her.
She had to get to him before he drowned in the mines. She would do whatever she could to save him before it was too late.
Epilogue
Kara Toran, a woman in her late 30's stared at the colorful artwork of " Mami Wata" on display in the museum. She had heard many stories from local Congolese of a serpent crown designed with emeralds, diamonds, and gold hidden deep in the Congo. She felt a smile come on and she turned to Caulder, her handsome, tall, dark-gray haired and blue-eyed partner. " Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked him. Caulder gave a sly smile and turned to her " I thought you would never ask". Kara smiled at him " When do we leave for the Congo?", she asked.