Drums of the Bayou.

You maybe the next victim ..

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Joshua had used the knife, or was it Rosa? Truth felt mercurial in the confines of the room, yet an undeniable fact lay stretched out between them. A dead man, with his throat slashed, an artery ruptured, and thick red pooling across old floorboards. While they stared at each other a maddening heartbeat roared through the wild, untamed landscape.

“Why?” She wailed, her voice barely audible over the banging. “Why'd you kill my husband.”

“I?.. No, it couldn’t have been," the young man's voice cracked as he clawed his unkempt hair. "You're lying! You must have - stabbed Marcus." His eyes darted wildly, drawn to shadows dancing on walls. They moved in time to a crashing beat. "Ahh! These drums! Will they ever cease?”

It was at that moment Elijah came rushing in. He stopped dead before the grisly scene, and a gasp escaped his lips. Before him, the plantation owner's son stood hunched by the window, head buried in trembling hands, while crumpled in a corner sobbed a servant lady. Both were stained in a man’s blood.

“My Gosh! What the devil has befallen the pair of you?" Elijah demanded with a sharp voice. Fish in nearby murky waters swam frantically in response to the pulsing crashes.

“He..” Rosa shot a glance at the other man, her voice low and quivering. “He took the knife and ..... sunk it into my husband’s neck.”

The murder weapon lay discarded next to a corpse's lifeless hand. Elijah turned in disgust at Marcus's torn open flesh. “That’s a grave statement.”

“But it's the truth." She cried. "I implore you. Subdue your master’s son before he kills us both.”

Joshua snapped awake as if the groundsman brought clarity. He shouted, trying to be heard over the banging sounds, with a voice drenched in anxiety. “I swear it wasn’t me, Elijah. She’s twisting the truth. Can't you see a witch sits in our presence, spinning her hollow lies?”

Locking his eyes solemnly on the pair, Elijah spoke. Moss-draped branches swayed in time to a relentless thrumming. “Enough, both of you. Joshua, tell me what happened here.”

But Rosa was quick to interrupt. “I was lured here by Joshua," Rosa said through tears, staring down at her husband. "I've been treatin' him for his illness with special herbal teas. His mania, it’s kept at bay by the ingredients, but this is how I'm repaid.” Rosa pointed but Joshua refused to acknowledge her. The banging kept his attention on the wider shadow world.

“Joshua, look at us when we talk to you. Why would you do such a thing?” Elijah questioned.

“Because …“ He babbled with knuckles tightened, clenching into frustrated fists. He took a step away, "You don't believe her, over me, do you? Elijah, we’ve known each other for years. Ok, yes! I came for her treatment, but mark my word she has far darker intentions. You see, she’s been poisoning me, sinking me deeper into insanity."

“His mind is unraveling.” Rosa implored. “You see it Elijah, don't you? I have nothing but goodwill for the plantation. When I told him his mind was beyond saving he snapped. He assaulted my husband, a murderer of the lowest degree. You ain't got no idea of what he is capable of."

Eyes burned with something feral. Joshua seized the moment to snatch the knife and point it at his accuser. "She lies, this place is rife with her black magic, here in the plantation. I had just arrived from New York when she ensnared me and I heard those accursed drums for the first time. Feint taps.... but now they pound, louder than ever." Dissonant rhymes tumbled through the bayou’s vegetation.

"Look, Joshua!!! " Elijah barked, "Witchcraft, drums, murder?? Control yourself before you fall into even more..."

"I'm innocent," Rosa whispered with hung shoulders.

"YOU LIE. YOU WITCH!” Joshua laughed bitterly, the sound pitched and jagged. He frantically covered his ears as the rhythmic pounding grew into a cacophony. Everything in the bayou now vibrated in step with the drums.

Elijah studied them both, his face unreadable. "Calm yourself." He said slowly. "Accusations ain't gonna fix what's been done here."

"But the drums, I tell you, are real. They drive me wild."

"It’s all in your head, son.” Elijah declared standing his ground. “I hear nothing…"

For the first time, Joshua noticed the bayou was silent, the air cool and calm. He froze, staring into the empty night, his breath shallow. He was taken aback, free at last from the noise and misery they caused. "You can't hear them, can you?”

But slowly. One thump after another. The sounds weren't out in the bayou, they were inside Joshua.

Elijah replied looking at Rosa for validation. "Trust us, there ain't nothin' out there...” Outside, a quiet serenity covered the sleeping landscape.

"Please, it's time to face up to what you've done.”

Very slowly, the detestable beat returned to his mind. Bang, Bang, Bang..

Tilting his head, recoiling as if hit by a hammer Joshua burst into hysteria. "Oh, I understand, now. Can’t hear the drums? Rosa’s coiled her schemes around you, too. But mark my words, Elijah, otherworldly things dwell out there." His gaze flickered to the window expecting something to be staring back at him. "Deep in the bayou, Lycropean horrors danced before me, they howled and sang. Indescribable it was, but Rosa, she willingly entertained those entities and conversed in incomprehensible languages." Joshua’s voice fragmented as he spoke, his words tumbling like a dam that had finally burst. “I swear, Elijah, this will be your fate if we don't stop Rosa. She—she wasn’t afraid. She was one with them, contorting, and speaking to shadows birthed from ancient trees.”

Elijah was unnerved by the tale. Save for Rosa's crying, the room fell silent, mirroring the stillness of the bayou. Fish in nearby calm waters swam leisurely under the cool surface. “What poor mind dreams up such fantasies?” He asked himself. His lips pressed into a hard line as he glanced between Joshua and Rosa. “You’re speaking of things that don’t make sense, Joshua. Dancing shadows? Drums in the bayou? These are not the words of a rational man. You must admit to your crime, and turn yourself in.”

“But I know what I saw is real. She told me herself. Marcus wasn’t good enough for her plan. She said I was the one—stronger, smarter, better suited to what she needed. She wanted me to replace him. To become her puppet.”

Rosa’s sobs faltered, and she shook her head violently, her voice breaking through the tension. “He’s lying! Marcus was my husband! My husband!”

But Joshua pressed on, his gaze locked on Elijah. “I refused her. I told her I wouldn’t be a part of whatever wickedness she was plotting. And now Marcus is gone. Can’t you see? It all fits. She killed him because she wanted me."

"Enough, please." Elijah turned and gestured to the blade in Joshua’s hand. With a sympathetic voice, he took a step forward. “Rosa's innocent, it's you who's dangerous. Please, drop the knife and face up to your crime."

The night pressed down quickening his heartbeat towards an unnatural rhythm and his head threatened to split open with each bang he heard.

Elijah lunged reaching for the bloodied knife in trembling hands. Joshua recoiled, his wild eyes desperate for refuge. "Stay back!" he screamed, but Elijah’s determination overpowered him. The two men crashed to the floor. They wrestled in the sticky warmth of pooled blood, limbs entangled until Joshua twisted free. But as he scrambled back his head turned, locking eyes with the wide, frozen stare of Marcus.

The sound of drums rocked the room.

Joshua’s body trembled violently, his chest heaving as if suffocating from the thick air. The rhythm surged through his veins. His head snapped back, his gaze shifting skyward as if seeking the origin of the sound. The world around him faded—Elijah's shouting, Rosa's muffled cries, the stench of blood—all replaced by the pounding in his mind. Suddenly Joshua felt his soul slipping into the beats, and for the first time, he listened. Letting the sound soak into his being felt surprisingly warm, and he cried out, his voice trembling with fear and elation. “The drums—Oh, I was I so blind. They've been calling me into their world all along. Why did I resist? I have to go. I have to find them again.”

“Joshua, stop!” Elijah reached to grip the young man, however, Joshua drove the knife into his arm. Then he was gone. The last thing anyone saw of Joshua was a figure swallowed by grimacing trees, the sound of footsteps dissolving into rhythmic pulses as the wilds welcomed him.

Elijah stood frozen at the window, exhausted. “Damn fool,” he muttered under his breath, his shoulders sagging as the weight of the situation settled on him. He turned back to Rosa, Her face streaked with teary eyes wide and unblinking.

“What're we gonna do now?” she whispered.

Elijah exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to his wounded arm. “We’ll have to tell the authorities. That’s all we can do.”

As he spoke, something shifted. A faint vibration hummed in his ears, so soft it could have been imagined. A single beat, then another. The sound was distant, almost imperceptible, but unmistakably there. Elijah frowned, shaking his head as though to clear it. “Did you… hear that?” he asked, his voice low.

“Hear what?” Rosa replied, her voice soft and innocent, almost too innocent.

Elijah gripped his arm tightly as the sound grew, echoing in his skull, and looked at Rosa with confusion. For the briefest moment, he saw her differently—her expression suddenly calm, her hands no longer trembling. “You heard it, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice laced with something Elijah couldn’t quite place. His knees buckled but he steadied himself against the wall, heart quickening to the beat of an unknown rhythm.

“Rosa?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of drums.

Her eyes glinted in the dim light. She answered softly. “You’ll see, Elijah. You’ll see.”