An Ancient Evil

A young girl stood naked and afraid.  Afraid because she knew death was coming.  Her body, straining with heavy pregnancy, remained rock still.  Upon closer inspection, her brow was beaded with sweat, and her nostrils were flaring despite the copper ring placed in between them.

Her entire female family spanning three generations of healers was bound beside her.  All naked, and all condemned.  They were considered priestesses of hell, witches and fiends. They were wanderers who offered their potions, herbs, and their bodies for temporary lodging. The lack of male births was being blamed on the recent potions given to the women to increase fertility.

Birthing males was important to the survival of the tribe. Only one male was born unto them that year and the tribal Elders were incensed.  They had brought the matter to the shaman, who looked to his visions to guide him.  He was convinced that the healers had brought bad magic to their women.  Some of the women grew ill and died.  Even some of the older children fell ill.  The fertile shores of the river now fed off the rotting flesh of their tribe.  The sounds of the river should have been soothing, but it wasn’t.  It seemed a hungry predator, waiting to devour more corpses.  The nomadic women were being sacrificed to the river, in hopes that their demise would end this period of infertility.

The rest of the tribe stood a safe distance hack. Not wanting the spirits of the damned ones to infect their bodies, the men were smeared with blood and carried spears and shields to protect their families.   Torches illuminated the scene casting off an eerie light.  The Elders each stood behind the family and waved their sticks in submission to the Gods.   

“I WILL CURSE YOU!  ALL OF YOU!”  The oldest female screamed.  There was a hush as the tribe strained to hear her warbled voice over the drums.  The drums ceased.   The bonfire leapt high, making a hissing sound.  Insects droned softly.

“You!”  The old crone addressed the shaman. 

“You will beget a female offspring who will rule the entire Amazon and kill mercilessly.  None of your male descendents will be spared.  When her flesh rots her evil will span through generations.  It will not stop until they are all dead!”

Shock and outrage rippled through the crowd.  A female ruler! A killer of men?  The Elders growled with disgust, while inside they trembled.  The medicine woman had powerful magic, but surely she cannot give the powers from the Gods unto a lowly female?  The Elders pushed the women forward into the tumultuous river.

They were immediately sucked under to their deaths.

The shaman motioned the rest of the tribe to the fire where the last female infant was roasting on a spit.  Her entrails were beneath her, used to fuel the fire.  She was last of that accursed family, and was the last sacrifice.  For a short while, village life returned to normal.  No diseases had spread and the Jivaros were hunting successfully.