Festival of the Dead


Angel walked among the throng of drunken costumed masque revelers, who danced in the streets and drank from the communal rum bottle. The music blared in joyous celebration of the Festival glorifying the Dead.

She strolled through the horde thinking about her sister, Rose who loved this festival. Angel recalled how her big sister would always make them a costume and paint gruesome designs on their faces.  She smiled remembering the way they would laugh at all the people with skeleton faces , and the delight they felt  dancing in the streets like everyone else. However, it was on this night five years ago, which celebrates the dead that someone murdered Rose.

The wind was high as it howled against the cardboard and tin shack that sat on a hill. It was held together by mud and had no amenities, but it was where  Angel and her sister Rose called a home.  They were poor, but fifteen-year-old Rose provided for them the only way she knew how.

They lived near a tourist town where rich Americans came often to frolic in the sun and sand and a little under age prostitution. It was dangerous, and Angel knew  what her sister  was risking every time she left home. So that night during a rain storm when Sheriff Plum knocked on the shack’s door, Angel  knew her sister was gone.

She really only heard bits and pieces of what Plum said that night, but she clearly remembers that burning in her gut when he said  that they found Rose’s body on the outskirts of town, a victim of rape and murder.

She was just ten years old when the Sheriff came to her door and forced her into a home. It has taken Angel five long years of constant searching, but she finally found the man who murdered her sister.


The drunken white man with the strange accent kept the innocent little girl close to his side. He wasn’t going to let her go, not tonight.  He ran one hand slowly down  the small of her bare back enjoying the suppleness of her young skin. He whispered promises in her ear while the glint in his eyes danced at the prospect of decadence with this girl of fifteen.

When he passed the Sheriff   of this fine town, with his underage companion, the two men nodded to each other. He enjoyed coming to this town, which featured sun, surf and adolescents . He even told all his online friends to come for their summer vacations. He looked at the brown eyed girl, hungry to  taste her soft  pleasing skin and feel her sweet  tightness  around his shaft .  He giggled to himself at his good fortune.


This predator was clueless to the fact  he was this evenings quarry, Angel thought, smiling as she walked passed Plum on the arm of her prey.  She  allowed him  to lead her down a dark path, but she was not afraid. There were so many people out on this night that every dark place had some couple copulating. Besides, he was taking her to a hotel to do his business.  She wasn’t surprised that Plum didn’t recognize her, she was just another child prostitute among the many that walked the streets at night. We were no one worth his time or effort.

The white man took her down another alleyway practically gleeful at the notion of  fulfilling his sinful desires, unaware that she was praying to the Spirits of Vengeance.

“Grant me strength, for I have the courage,” she prayed gathering her strength. “Gift them blindness; for I have the  heart. Allow me to strike this fiend down for Rose’s vengeance.”

Angel has never grown weary of this desire or pursuing this end.  Revenge led her to seek out her sister’s killer and it has helped her to find this  man of the cloth. No one suspected Father Micheal, yet she had  in the dean of his desires when he came for one of her friends.  Now, as he had led others, he was being led to his eventual end.

They were just about to enter the hotel when someone screamed, and the crowd grew louder. He turned to face the excitement and in that moment  the universe dinged.

Angel struck quickly. The sharp blade winked in the moonlight before tearing open his abdomen and then his throat.

Confused, he  stared at the girl before him , who was covered in his blood grinning like the costumed revelers who were celebrating the Festival .

“For Rose, “she said watching him holding  his wounds and gasping.

He tumbled limp to the ground, eyes wide for  his entrance into Hell, as Angel walked away  joyously  joining in on the celebration as she danced to Rose’s grave to pray.

Copyright © 2013 Glynis Rankin

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