Chapter 2:
Sometime earlier.
Alex was startled awake at nearly 8 in the morning. It had been more than 6 months since he lost his crappy retail job. His life has not been going anywhere since then. Alex was 24 years old. He spent most of his life not knowing what he wanted to do or be when he got older. His Aunt raised him because his biological parents were not capable of taking care of him and his sister.
Alex stands tall at 6', with a broad frame that leans toward the heavier side. His dirty blonde hair is starting to show streaks of grey, particularly at the temples, giving him a prematurely aged, weathered look. The hair is usually messy, hanging just above his ears, perpetually unkempt as if it hasn't seen a comb in days. His hazel eyes are sharp and observant, flickering between green and gold depending on the light, though they often carry a tired, world-weary expression from long hours spent staring at screens or lost in thought.
His skin is pale, with slightly sallow spending most of his time indoors. His face is rounder, with a thick, full beard that adds to his rugged, slightly unkempt appearance. His nose is broad, and his cheeks are soft, often tinged with a faint flush, particularly when he's stressed or embarrassed.
Alex's build is solid, his stomach rounded and arms thick, with a layer of fat covering the muscle underneath. His hands are large and calloused in places from occasional bursts of activity—fixing things around the house or hauling heavy bags when he bothers to step outside. His wardrobe leans toward loose-fitting polo shirts, oversized hoodies, and well-worn jeans. His shoes, lime green Vans, are scuffed but mostly clean, since they rarely leave the house.
Despite his size, there's a sense of quiet vulnerability in how he carries himself. He slouches slightly as if trying to make himself smaller, his hands frequently stuffed into his pockets. Yet, there's a quiet resilience in his movements, a man used to carrying invisible burdens. On his wrist sits a smartwatch from when he had to have a watch for work. It had a grey band with a black border.
He lay at the edge of his bed for nearly 10 minutes before motivating himself to get up. He grabbed his phone and shuffled into the kitchen to grab coffee and take his meds. He had to take six different pills every morning and one at night just to maintain the little motivation he had for the world and life as is. Sadly today was not like any other of his days. He realized too late that he had to go out into the world because one of his pill bottles was empty, and he needed a refill.
Lord, he hated dealing with people, but that was a problem for "future" Alex. That and his growing pile of dishes, trash, and need for groceries. Instead, Alex would sip coffee, listen to his books using the accessibility feature on his phone, and play some Elden Ring. He had beaten the game numerous times, but it was always fun to sit down and run around killing some mobs to relax.
After a few hours of mind-numbing slaughter, he ran out of coffee and knew he had finally reached "future Alex" time. Begrudgingly, He got dressed, grabbed his car keys, and went to the store.
Alex lived just outside New Orleans. The Big Easy as some call it. Home to some of the best cooking south of the Mason-Dixon line. It always had fresh food and fresher people. They were lively in all senses of the word. Alex had even heard of a "vampire cult" getting arrested for stealing corpses from the county coroner's office. All he could do was laugh and shake his head at the thought.
He always loved this city, but never felt he fit in with its people. That is saying something when the range is from southern hospitality to crazy occult voodoo believers. He drove into town and parked not far from his grocery store deciding to walk the rest of the way. It would do him some good.
He noticed a few artists set up with stalls selling their goods along the way. Not uncommon in the city. He planned to ignore them as he made his way in for his shopping, but as he walked past a particularly empty stall, a necklace caught his eye. It was a skull with a top hat, and he could have sworn he saw it wink at him. Frozen in place the Artist smiled in his direction. She was a small woman standing at about 5'2".
"Did you find something you like?" she asked.
Alex feeling embarrassed at the fact he couldn't afford anything even if he did quickly replied that he was just browsing. She didn't seem to take no for an answer.
"Come now, what caught your eye? I could see you liked something."
"Well, I noticed this pendant." Alex said after a brief pause. He pointed at the necklace.
"Oh, interesting choice! That one is designed with Baron Samedi in mind. The Haitian Loa of death. Do you know about him?"
Alex had heard of Baron Samedi before, but only loosely through games, TV shows, and movies. He decided to play dumb, and just shake his head. It was better to be uninformed, than pretending you knew more than you did.
With a sly smile, the saleswoman continued to explain.
"That's fine. I will keep it short then. He is the spirit that takes people to the afterlife when they die. He is the one who decides when your time is up. Don't make a mistake though, He still respects life and sends just as many away as he takes. I have had this necklace for a while now, and you are the first to show interest in it. Why don't you take it?"
Alex knew he didn't have the money to spend on such nonsense, so backed away shaking his head.
"I am sorry, but I can't pay for it. As I said, I am just looking."
" No, you misunderstand. Take it! I have a feeling you are fated to have it. Just call it this voodoo priestess' gift, " she said as she put it into a paper bag.
Having felt he had no choice Alex took the necklace and thanked the woman profusely.
He rushed away from her, to get out of there lest he get pickpocketed or convinced to buy something else. This was a usual scam done to tourists, and he did not want to be a victim. Finally after quickly walking, for about five minutes, he made it to the store.
He did not want to deal with today anymore, but he still needed food. After buying what he needed, and a pumpkin pie which he did not, he started on his way home. It didn't take more than 20 minutes for him to get back to the art stall where he got the necklace, but as he arrived he noticed that it wasn't there.
Alex stopped in his tracks, staring at the empty spot where the artist's stall had been just an hour ago. He glanced around, half-expecting to see her at another stall, or perhaps off to the side, chatting with someone else. But there was nothing. The street had a slightly eerie quietness to it now, the usual buzz of tourists and street performers muted by the mid-afternoon heat.
He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable. It wasn't just the absence of the stall that was strange—it was the sensation that the whole situation, from the necklace to the way she'd insisted he take it, was too odd to ignore. A gift from a vodou priestess? He laughed to himself, dismissing the thought as superstition. But something about the way she had smiled at him, that glint in her eyes when she mentioned fate... it stuck with him, gnawing at him like an itch he couldn't reach.
With a sigh, Alex shook his head and continued walking toward his car, the pumpkin pie wedged uncomfortably in his grocery bag. His mind drifted back to the necklace. He hadn't even taken it out of the paper bag she had placed it in. He hadn't wanted to touch it any more than he had to. But still, he couldn't shake the thought that there was something... important about it. Maybe he could leave it in his apartment. Forget about it. After all, he had no time to be wrapped up in strange superstitions.