The Mark of Voodoo

Seeking to possess the one thing that may be able to end his cursed existence,
Baron Samedi is permitted an audience with the Basilisk. As the Baron’s
pitiful story unfolds, the Basilisk sees an opportunity…
The Mark of Voodoo
Born on a slaver in sixteen sixty six
I was cut from the womb
Of a screaming West African witch
In Haiti they laid me upon the auction block
And I sold for a song on a Port-au-Prince dock
Raised by the Houngan, he taught me the rites
I saw him murdered one terrible night
Found at his side, covered in gore
Beaten and kicked, thrown to the floor
Dragged to the slave house
Tied down in a circle of chalk
Ritual candles anointed
With the blood of a sacrificed cock
The frenzy was building
I pleaded with them for my life
They cut out my heart with a sugar cane knife
I opened my eyes to the dark of a grave
My body was rotten, my thoughts were depraved
Walking the Earth for eternity
Cursed with the duties of Samedi
I spoke to the dead as their flesh decayed
They spoke of a skull in a land far away
To Creepsylvania via Bombay!
End this curse!
Solo Digestor
Make these gruesome torments cease
Give me the glory of deathly peace
Put to rest these cursed bones
«You'll find what you seek in the catacombs»