I Put A Spell On You

I put a spell on you

"I am here to require help from the doctor?" The young woman stood in the rain in the dark muddy alley, the candle light still lit by the doorway.

The door had opened to Mrs. Eleanor Walker by a tall dark skin man. Eleanor honestly sought out this gentleman. For a year she and her husband had been trying to have a baby and nothing had worked. She also knew Mr. Walker had been starting an affair of another much lovelier woman. It wasn't easy for her and if she couldn't secure her place with a baby, he would easily divorce her and she would be left with nothing but a tarnished ring and a sidewalk to sleep on. She came to the Magic man with an urgent desire and payment.

Because you're mine

The slim voodooist stepped aside and allowed the young lady to walk idly into his shop. He admire the innocent blue eyes she had and thought of an evil concoction he could make with them. His shadow glided and pointedly gawked at the pure white English rose. Silently he scolded the moving dark shade.

The room was filled with Nic-knacks he'd collected over the years of his lengthy youth. The place he called home was lit by candles and a chandelier made of many animal bones. Eleanor could feel the darkness around her, it was heavy and made her chest feel swollen. She never felt like this in Britain. Her American Husband would surely kill her if he discovered her whereabouts. Barely anytime for her to see the evil smirk imbedded on the Doctors face.

He rubbed his hands and coughed. The mans cough startled Eleanor into making her jump up in surprise. He made his way passed her and spread his arms out in a welcoming aura. He smiled to her and Eleanor could fully see his face. His luminous lilac gazed pierced her soul like a sharp glinted dagger. His elegantly long fingers hooked around her palm "Doctor Francois Facilier, how may I be of service," and dramatically bowed to kiss her hand "My Lady?"

You better stop the things you do
I tell ya I ain't lyin'
I ain't lyin'

Little Eleanor flushed as his lips pressing into her fingers, his black moustache brushing against her knuckles. He was a charmer of not only spirits, but of hearts. She pulled her hand away quickly to escape is enchantment.

She stuttered and bowed her head in a respectful manner to the mysterious male "Mrs Eleanor Walker, doctor...I-I want a spell."

Her little smooth hands gripped her front blouse as she awkwardly stood around the perilous room filled with the unknown. She but her lip as she felt a heavy hand land onto her shoulder, followed by a hefty laugh. The black man whispered into her ear as his body twisted around her trembling form. She was afraid of him, the shadow man, but she would remain strong in his presence. She was a tough British gal after all.

Francois Facilier agreed "Don't we all my dear? We want a spell for love, spell for health, spell for fortune and fame."

He walked his way back to his reading table and pulled out a bottle with a burgundy colour as it poured into a little tea cup. Eleanor brushed her hair from her eyes as she sheepishly didn't know what to do, so she stayed in her stance across the room not moving. The doctor clearly saw it and noted she might've been afraid of the racial rumours concerning a black man and a white women. Maybe she was afraid that she was a savage. The thing that couldn't cross his mind was, didn't she realise at the darker population of Orleans? He winked to the woman cheekily.

She gave a dramatic and forced sigh as he dully finished his drink of mystery "But! We can never have a particular spell completely without a goal. What kind of spell are you wanting, sugar bun?"

The term actually shocked Eleanor, his lips fell loose on vulgar nicknames, a lady such as herself was disturbed by his use of familiarity. However she made no confrontation, she need a potion after all.