My Bully's Voodoo Revenge on Mom

Brazzers

Voodoo, Karen Fisher Pic(s)

The humid air of my childhood home felt thick with a malice I hadn’t experienced since high school, a familiar dread that coiled in my stomach. It was Karen Fisher, my old high school tormentor, who had inexplicably re-entered our lives with a chilling new purpose. Her eyes, once just cruel, now held a glint of something ancient and deeply unsettling, a knowledge she had no business possessing. My mother, always so vibrant, began her strange decline shortly after Karen’s first “friendly” visit, complaining of phantom pains and bone-deep exhaustion. I started finding bizarre little tokens around the house—a small bundle of feathers tied with black string, a tiny clay figurine tucked behind a photo of us. The final, horrifying clue was a crude doll, unmistakably fashioned in my mother’s image, hidden in the attic with the name “Voodoo” whispered in charcoal on the floorboards beside it. This was no longer simple harassment; it was a calculated assault using forces I didn’t understand, a dark ritual playing out in our own home. Karen Fisher was practicing Voodoo, weaving a sinister revenge for some long-forgotten slight against my ailing mother. I could see the satisfaction in her smug smile during her subsequent visits, a silent taunt as she watched her handiwork unfold. The battle lines were drawn not in the schoolyard, but in the spiritual realm, and I was utterly unprepared for a war against this kind of darkness.