Chapter 6
Birth of a god
Round three has just begun. Nevertheless, the two adversaries seem to be facing each other without wanting to attack for the moment, seeming to observe each other.
"Let's see how long it takes you to die." Baron Samedi said
"Bully! Is that a challenge? I love competition!" TR exclaimed. "I just wonder where would I mount the stuffed head of this baron."
The president lunges at Samedi, fist forward, but the latter blocks him with his stick. But that didn't stop the Bull Moose who used his second fist to hit Baron Samedi in the guts. Samedi suddenly disappeared as if teleported and found himself behind Roosevelt. He prepared to hit Teddy with his stick, but the president dodged.
After bending down, Theodore Roosevelt sent a powerful uppercut straight into the baron's chin, propelling him into the air before he could land on his feet.
"Aaaaand Theodore lands the first blow!" exclaimed Rhymus.
Samedi removed his cigar from his mouth to spit out a tooth. He put it back in before looking up to see TR charging at him. The god swallowed his own cigar to spit out a cloud of smoke and fumigated Roosevelt. The president began coughing violently; being prone to asthma, this attack affected him.
"He must get out of it." Lincoln said.
The Bull Moose was looking around, surrounded by thick smoke, when suddenly he heard Baron Samedi's voice.
"What's wrong Teddy, can't stand a bit of smoke?"
"What are you trying to do, scare me?" replied the president.
Samedi begins to laugh.
"You should be afraid of me, I'm the guide to death."
"So, you think I should be scared of you just because you're some kind of god of death?" he asked, his shackles beginning to emanate a blue aura. "I don't have time to be afraid, my duty is to protect the people and all those citizens to whom I've promised so many things!"
The aura enveloped his fists completely, and with a sudden movement of them, he dissipated all the smoke. Samedi found himself out in the open when Teddy looked him straight in the eye. The pressure of this gaze was such that even a death deity like Baron Samedi felt this fear.
But Samedi wouldn't budge. He stuck his hand in the ground and metamorphosed into a purple cloud. Roosevelt, caught off-guard, didn't know what to do until the cloud passed between his legs and Samedi slid behind the president, taking his original form back.
"What witchcraft! Voodoo magic is truly amazing!" shouted Rhymus.
The baron passed his staff over Roosevelt's head, strangling the latter with the aid of his weapon. TR began to struggle, but without success.
"Come on, Teddy!" shouted Selira.
After a moment, the president manages to destabilize Samedi by sweeping him off his feet. He couldn't hold on and lost his grip on the staff so much that it almost fell to the ground. Theodore wasn't done however, he punched Samedi right into the stomach. The god coughed up blood as his hat flew off. He tried to rotate but got punched again, in the back this time. Roosevelt had an even bigger aura covering all his arms now, and he prepared for a powerful attack as Samedi rose to his feet.
"Bull Moose Barrage!" TR said.
This was followed by a violent barrage of punches so fast that Baron Samedi could do nothing but take them in the face. The final hit, an uppercut, sent the god skyrocketing in the air. Samedi the fell off into the ground, making a dusty crater. Theodore Roosevelt approached the baron.
"Do you understand now? I'll fight to defend those behind me until you're dead."
Selira is jumping up and down with joy.
"Crazy stuff! I don't know about that blue thing around him, but I love it!"
"It's his love for the United States." Lincoln said rubbing his beard.
Druca smiled.
"So, you get it. I'm not really surprised."
Phearl turns to Abraham.
"Can you explain this to me, Mr. Lincoln?" she asks a bit shyly still.
"Of course, little one." he replied patting her head. "I don't think there's a man who loves the United States of America as much as Theodore Roosevelt."
"That's true" adds Druca. "You might know about the American dream; this is The American Spirit. Theodore possesses an ability that allows him to grow stronger through the determination and patriotism he feels for his nation in battle."
Selira's eyes widen in admiration.
"And so... his shackles are a kind of catalyst?" Phearl asks a bit unsure.
"That's exactly right, bravo Phearl!" Druca said.
Abraham Lincoln seems pensive at this moment.
"I can't imagine his strength right now... I've been a wrestler, I've won 299 of my 300 fights and yet you could see that even without divine help, I was no match for dear Teddy."
"You lost a fight?" Selira asks.
"The truth is, no. It was more a tie than anything else, I remain undefeated." replied Lincoln.
He focuses his gaze on the center of the arena.
"And yet, this man had no trouble beating me at arm wrestling as you saw, and only with his basic strength."
"Yeah, he's too op." Selira says.
Druca chuckles.
"You have no idea. Let me tell you a truth that nobody knows about this dear Teddy."
In 1884, after the death of his mother and wife in the same house on the same day, Theodore Roosevelt had gone into exile in the Badlands. So, he left New York and civilization, telling himself he'd never come back. It's here, in these vast, arid territories, that he'll begin his new life. For him, the Wild West is where the American identity is forged and it was here that he forged his American Spirit.
After a ride, he returns to his ranch's construction site, where two men are there to help him: Bill Sewall & Wilmot Dow. Theodore dismounts and approaches them.
"It's a good thing you brought some food." says Bill, pointing to the dead animal on Theodore's horse.
"Hunting helps me put things into perspective." Replied TR.
Wilmot approaches Roosevelt.
"We received a letter while you were away."
"From who?" asks Teddy.
"You know." replied Bill.
Theodore takes hold of the letter.
"There's nothing left for me there." he says, without opening the envelope.
"You're wrong, my friend. Your sister and especially your daughter need you." Bill puts a hand on Theodore's shoulder.
He glances at the letter again.
"I have something to do." he says, walking towards his tent.
"We'll expect you for dinner." Bill exclaimed, but there was no answer.
Theodore Roosevelt locked himself in his tent before lifting a sheet covering a small table. Underneath are four large metal pieces resembling shackles. He took tools to continue forging and perfecting these strange objects.
The words of his sister's letter echo in his head as he moves forward with his project. After a while, he puts down his tools.
"It's now or never."
He puts on the shackles and, once that's done, stands up from his chair. But once on his feet, he didn't last a second before collapsing under the weight of these metal objects. He grunted in pain.
"H-How…"
Indeed, Roosevelt didn't seem to understand. These shackles are much heavier than they should be. The reason is simple: they're imbued with the pain and suffering of Theodore Roosevelt. He didn't know it yet, but he had almost broken the boundaries between the mortal and divine worlds. And if those shackles were so heavy, it was because he'd imbued them with the wrong emotions without knowing it.
He persisted for days and weeks, but to no avail. Once bound to him, it was impossible to lift these shackles. Nevertheless, he kept them with him, knowing they would come in handy someday.
"So- he almost single-handedly forged a divine artifact?" Phearl says surprise.
"This man has no limits. Freaking legend." Selira says in admiration.
Baron Samedi struggles to his feet as Theodore Roosevelt remains in front of him.
"Not…bad." Samedi says wiping off blood from his mouth with a tissue.
"It looks like Baron Samedi has been badly affected by this blow, he's having trouble getting up!" exclaimed Rhymus.
With the help of his staff, Samedi was back on his feet. But he was obviously faking. He shaped his smoke into a dagger and dashed toward Roosevelt. The dagger hits the president but does not injure him. Teddy takes advantage of the situation to land a punch right in Baron Samedi's face.
"Ouch! I wouldn't have liked to be in his place!" shouts Rhymus.
The Baron, thrown backwards, takes a moment to recover, but once he does, an almost demonic aura seems to surround him. It frightens humans and gods alike.
"Oh no…" Druca says in a very bewildered tone.
"Wh-What's going on?" replied Phearl, trembling.
"What's in the arena in front of Theodore isn't a god..."
Samedi smiles demonically as smoke surrounds him.
"That's something else..." continued Druca.
In ancient times, a man was chased away with rocks. What was his name? It didn't matter...
"You killed them! You killed all those people for your own pleasure!" shouted a young man, throwing stones at the poor black man.
He wasn't the only one. Dozens of people had pushed the man out of the village, pelting him with stones. The man collapsed, covered in wounds, and turned to face the horde of enraged people.
"I didn't… do anything, it wasn't me..."
"You will pay for their deaths with your life." a man said before killing this poor being with a dagger through his heart.
But it's only now that his life is about to begin. Waking up in a dark world as if nothing had happened, the man couldn't believe it.
"What's happening to me... have I been banished for a crime I didn't commit?" said the man, unaware that he was no longer on Earth.
He explored the place for days, months or years. Time seemed to have no beginning and no end here. He discovered that he had powers, as if he could manipulate smoke and a kind of occult magic.
These days were becoming more and more alike. He confronted every creature hostile to him, becoming THE hostile creature himself. He'd been wandering for so long that he never thought he'd leave this place.
But one day, a glimmer of light appeared. The man thought he was dreaming and slowly approached it, step by step. A silhouette appeared, a feminine one. The man finally found someone human-looking in these shallows. Once close to the woman, the latter felt an inhuman presence behind her and reflexively kicked back. The man grunted in pain, vomiting blood.
"I- didn't mean… to hurt… you." he hardly says.
"You scared me! I reacted without controlling my body, which had never happened to me before." replied the woman.
The man stood up and the woman could finally see his face. She was frightened.
"WHAT- WHAT ARE YOU?" she screamed.
"A human... I'm human!" he replied trying to ease the situation.
The woman regained her composure and took on a solemn tone.
"I'm afraid that's no longer the case... you're dead."
"What?"
The man seemed surprised. He had no memory of his previous life. These memories had faded with time. He grabbed his head with both hands, crying out in despair when suddenly…
"I didn't kill them..."
"What are you saying?" replied the woman in concern.
"The men of my village... I was falsely accused. I must be believed!"
The woman kneels in front of the poor man to comfort him, stroking his head.
"I believe you."
The man raised his wet eyes in the direction of this woman, who seemed to be the first person to take him into consideration.
"But tell me, what's your name?" asked the woman.
A name. The man seemed never to have had one, or at least he couldn't remember.
"I don't know." he simply said. "All I remember is that Saturday, the day I died"
The woman looked at him intrigued.
"I know a language in which this day is called Samedi. If you died on that day, it's that day and that name that will bring you back to life."
The man smiled.
"Samedi… I like it. And who are you then?"
"You can call me Bright, I'm a goddess of light."
"A- goddess?" Samedi couldn't believe it.
Bright giggled but quickly returned to a serious tone.
"But I'm afraid you've become something I can't define. Even a demon would be an angel in comparison..."
Samedi looked down. Bright made him look up, putting a hand under his chin.
"But I like you as you are and I'm ready to help you."
The man smiled.
"There are only two things that would make me happy: to drink and to get out of here."
Bright grabs a bottle of rum.
"It's the only thing I've got on me, so I hope you don't mind."
"How could I?" Samedi replied, grabbing the bottle and drinking its contents.
The goddess laughed at Samedi's behavior.
"What a child you are."
"Shall I call you Mommy then?"
"That's debatable." replied Bright with a smirk
She resumed a more serious attitude again.
"I can get you out of here."
"There's nothing I want more than to get out of this hell. I'm tired of having to fight and always being on my guard... this place has destroyed me." Samedi says in despair.
Bright moved closer to embrace him.
"I know what you want, you want to rest and be safe. A man like you, I can understand him."
Samedi couldn't believe it. Not only was he going to leave this place, he was going to become somebody.
"But you're going to have to play a role. As you are, the gods won't accept you."
"Anything it takes." replied Samedi.
And so it was that these two beings created a pantheon of their own to enable Samedi to join the world of divinity, undercover. The Voodoo Pantheon, as Samedi chose to call it, in reference to the magic he had developed.
Samedi felt like he was on top of the world. In a sumptuous bed, smoking a cigar and sipping a glass of fine rum, he was waiting for his wife. The latter arrived, now wearing a skull design on her face in tribute to her husband. She had dressed to seduce Samedi.
"Like what you see, darling?" she says on a provocative tone, getting closer to him.
"I couldn't have wished for a better wife, Bri- "
She interrupted Samedi, putting a finger to his lips.
"It's Maman Brigitte now. You asked if you had to call me Mommy, so..."
Samedi smiled. The two lovers clinked glasses.