How do you kill a legend?
Episode 10: The Gator, Part II
Previously….
Siblings Levi and Rosary are marked by scaly skin and violet veins after their mother performed a ritual to bring Levi back from the dead. But Levi suffers from fits that suck the life out of him each time it happens. They find out the truth, that their blood belongs to the immortal creature called The Gator and for Levi to live, they must kill him.
Belle Terre, Louisiana
1978
How do you kill a legend?
The question pounded my brain as I walked a few steps behind Levi. The cicadas sang beneath thick brush and moss-draped trees. Bullfrogs croaked and splashed as they jumped over the murky water. Somewhere close, a snake’s rattle hummed underneath it all. The swamp land was alive. Waiting.
And somewhere, deep in the nearby bayou, something else had been alive for generations. Uncle Alcee and Mama had faced it and survived.
But both had been marked by it.
Mama, bedridden for years after, then one night she sang herself to sleep and never woke up. And Uncle Alcee—a scarred face and an even harder heart. The Gator didn’t kill them outright, it stayed with them. Its reach was deadly. Slow…painful.
How would it mark us?
Uncle Alcee had told us where to go and how to protect ourselves, but he couldn’t tell us exactly how to kill an immortal. Our best bet, he’d said, was to make sure he didn’t turn full gator.
“You’ll have a better chance killing a man than monster,” he’d said.
“But how do we make sure he doesn’t turn?” Levi had asked, his fingers moving quick.
Uncle Alcee had gone quiet then, rubbing those loose hairs on his chin again. The veins popped at his temples like he was trying to force something through.
“You gotta weaken ‘em,” he’d finally said. Keep ‘em weak. Don’t give him a second to gather himself. That’s what I did…or, what I think I did. Gotta be what your mama did.”
I wished Mama was here to tell her side. I wished Uncle Alcee could remember exactly how he survived.
He said we’d need three things: River water. Graveyard dirt. Sulphur and red pepper mix.
As soon as he named them, I knew why.
Graveyard dirt to protect us. Water from the mighty Mississippi to bind him, keep him from shapeshifting. And the sulphur and pepper mix to banish its spirit—drive the evil right out of his body.
“He can’t turn once he’s weak,” Uncle Alcee had explained, pressing his fingers hard against his temples, as if the memory hurt. “He’ll have to be one thing or another, and I pray to God you catch him when he’s a man. It’s the only way.”
He paused and looked at us then, like he was trying to carve our faces into whatever was left of his memory.
“I’m sorry,” he’d said quietly, the usual edge missing from his voice. “Sorry I can’t remember more.”
Then his eyes widened big as marbles.
“There was a purple flash of light, then—” He stopped again, breathing hard like he’d run up a hill. “Then it was like looking in a mirror.”
“A mirror…how?”
He swallowed hard. “Like you’re looking at yourself. Same size. Stance. Same hate staring back.” He shook his head sharply, like the memory fizzled out. “The thing is a shapeshifter. I looked at it and saw myself—every rotten part of me. Who knows what he’ll show y’all.”
Levi pressed him for more, but Uncle Alcee just shook his head.
“I’m telling you what I can…least what I can still remember.” He tapped his cane against the floor. “That thing turns your memories to muddy water. Leaves just enough pride to know you fought. But how you survived—how you got the best of that demon?” His mouth twitched. “That part turns to mud.”
Silence settled over us.
Uncle Alcee pushed himself up from the chair and eased toward the door.
“If you live through it,” he said, his back turned, “you’ll never be the same. Don’t expect to carry the story back with you.” He stopped at the door and struck his cane on the floor. He hesitated, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. “May our ancestors be with you.”
He didn’t look back.
The screen door creaked and slammed behind him.
We’d been walking for ‘bout twenty minutes, the full moon to our left. Levi had a big hunting knife on his hip, the Florida water-dipped blade shimmered under the blue-black sky.
“Hey, wait up,” I whispered, finally noticing that Levi had picked up his step.
But he didn’t slow down.
He moved like a walking tree—tall, shoulders stiff, head bobbing like Spanish moss in a hard wind with each long step. His shadow stretched out to the mossy trees.
I caught up and gripped his thick arm. His skin was cold and jagged, like I’d pressed my fingers into cold rock.
Suddenly he stopped.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with thick, humid air. I inhaled too—and felt it immediately.
Something was following us.
We had stepped into its territory.
“I feel it, too,” I whispered. “We close.”
Levi turned and placed his leathery hands on my shoulders, turning me to meet his eyes. The violet in his irises churned like a storm. The purple glow burned against the off-white of his eyes. The air around us tightened.
The cicadas had gone silent.
Levi signed two sharp words: Be ready.
We moved forward, side by side. My hand slipped into my satchel, fingers closed around the pouch of graveyard dirt and ready to use it against the Gator the moment he showed his teeth.
The leaves bristled to our left. Something was there.
To our right was a small cabin beyond the trees with a single gas lamp burning outside the door.
Levi motioned for me to set the trap, circling us in a tight protective loop. I scooped up a fistful of graveyard dirt and drew a ring around us.
Levi shifted his stance, the knife now gripped in his hand. I backed up against him, and dipped my fingers in the Florida water inside my satchel.
The bayou splashed and swished under the weight of something massive. He didn’t taunt us. Didn’t hide away.
He stepped out of the water and walked up to us.
There were no scales.
No wet snout or sharp teeth.
Just a man—a very tall man. Broad.
Calm.
He stood about five feet from us, water dripping from his ripped sleeves.
His skin was dark brown and his nose thin and pointed.
But his eyes.
They were a glowing violet haze that reached for me like the sun through stained glass. I stared too long, caught in the prism of violet and amethyst light spinning like a kaleidoscope.
Then his face shifted. His cheeks rounded. Jaw softened.
His face…became mine.
And Levi’s.
Same jaw and cheekbones. Same thick eyebrows. Long hair twisted into ropes that hung past his shoulders.
“Rosary, is that you baby?” he said, stepping fully into the moonlight.
My blood ran cold.
Mama.
Levi stiffened beside me.
Mama’s face looked back at us, the softness in her eyes edged by a hint of mischief.
“Ya’ll need to turn around now. This place ain’t safe,” he said in a rich voice just like Mama’s. “These are hungry spirits out here, baby. And they will devour you.”
The circle glowed around us, flickering as he stepped closer. I loosened the
vial of river water.
“You ain’t our mama.”
The face smiled.
“So you the smart one,” he said, rolling his head slow, like it was too heavy for his shoulders. Levi edged his body in front of me, wielding the knife as a warning.
Then he looked at him. Mama’s face folded into amusement.
“And you the dead one…got my blood.” He sniffed the air then inhaled deep, savoring something invisible.
“Welcome home, boy,” he snickered.
Levi lunged forward, but I grabbed his arm.
“Not yet. Don’t step out the circle.” I whispered.
Mama’s face contorted and split into something raw and scaly. A deep growl crept out of its throat. The Gator staggered back, then we heard something crack.
The legs bent wrong.
His jaw stretched into something long and wet. Scales burst through his shirt, spreading across his chest like thick weeds.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. “He’s turning.”
Levi didn’t wait.
He leapt out of the circle and tackled him. They crashed into the mud, right near the bayou.
The half man, half gator thrashed around as Levi tried to put him in a chokehold. Finally, Levi drove the knife into his arm. The Gator hissed, knocking the knife out of his arm and backhanded Levi off him as if he were just a meddling gnat.
The Gator stood upright and slammed Levi into the ground. He grabbed him by the neck, pressing down hard enough to crush it. Levi’s mojo bag fell off.
My feet were stuck in the mud, my mind unable to will them into action. Then claws burst through curved fingers, driving into Levi’s chest.
He didn’t scream.
Levi’s veins glowed violet beneath his skin as he gritted his teeth. The Gator pushed his thick claws further into his chest, waiting for him to scream for mercy. Instead, Levi grunted and began to shake.
He groaned and rolled his head back.
A fit was coming on strong.
Levi raised his fists and pounded them into Gator’s chest. Each hit sounded like thunder cracking against the sky.
My body finally freed itself from paralysis. I jumped on the Gator, just as his grip loosened, and threw the river water onto his back.
Ribbons of steam lifted from his body.
Scales blistered and shrank into human skin. Levi rolled free and reached for the knife.
But the Gator was fast.
He slithered away from me, his body shifting again, shedding rough skin like a snake, going straight for Levi.
I lunged after him, grabbing his leg, digging my fingers into human flesh.
I couldn’t let him go.
Uncle Alcee had said that our best bet was to kill him while he was a man. And right now, he was stuck in between.
I had one trick left—the sulphur and pepper mix. And it would only banish the evil if he was fully human.
He dragged himself toward Levi, stronger than both of us. The Gator tackled him again and clasped his mouth onto Levi’s leg.
Levi let out a guttural sound and fell. Wind circled him, whipping leaves around and churning the water into a spinning funnel. His veins shined brighter. His eyes burned darker. Sizzling violet blood spilled from the wound, hissing where it hit the ground. The Gator raised his head for a moment, showing a mouth full of flesh and blood.
I screamed.
Not because of what was happening to Levi, but because my hands were glowing too. The same violent violet blood raced beneath my skin, reacting to my brother’s pain.
Levi met my eyes.
Without a word, I knew what he wanted me to do.
Use the mix.
Now.
But I was too slow. Too obvious.
The Gator snapped toward me as he dropped to all fours, belly carving through the mud. His slanted, violet eyes unblinking as they drifted closer. Before I knew it, he was on me. His breath scorched my face like a furnace rumbled deep in his throat.
Levi popped up behind him and buried the knife into his back. The Gator shrieked and thrashed, clawing at me before flinging me into a moss tree.
My head cracked hard enough to blacken my vision.
Purple spots danced in front of me. I blinked, searching for Levi but all I saw was a violet blur moving fast.
“Levi?” I called out.
The blur rushed me.
I pulled the sulphur mix free. The smell filled my nose.
Something was wrong.
The shape coming toward me—dragging its body toward me—rippled like a mirage.
But it wasn’t the Gator.
It didn’t move like my brother.
Was there something else in the bayou?
I could make out glowing eyes, but not much else.
Something inside me begged me to use the mix but my hands wouldn’t cooperate.
The violet blur split into two shapes. One moving slowly, deliberately. The other staggering. As the shapes came into view,
I forced myself to exhale.
Which one was Levi?
They were coming for me and I wouldn’t get a second chance.
The one on the right dragged itself closer, its face coming into view. His eyes were slant, stoic. Empty. The one on the left moved faster, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of emotions.
And I could read every one.
I pulled the sulphur mix free and blew it right at the one on the right. The dark red dust settled like ember on his body.
The air cracked.
The burning figure lunged at me, smoke peeling from its body, claws raised. A chorus of harsh, raw caws escaped from its mouth. Streams of light burst from his chest and into the dark sky. Levi surged from behind, pulling him off me with one hand while he drove the knife across the Gator’s neck. His head tumbled to the thick mud.
Freezing pain tore through my core.
I looked down, my vision finally clear.
A jagged claw mark split across my stomach. Too deep.
Levi caught me before I hit the mud.
His body was finally warm now, the violet veins retreating beneath his skin. His hands were smooth, human again…but shaking.
He dug through my satchel.
Dirt.
Water.
Sulphur.
He pulled them out and set them on the ground. He laid his hands on my head, my chest, and then my stomach.
Just like our mother used to do. Just like I did.
He’d been watching…learning all along.
He pressed the last of the graveyard dirt into my wound and covered it with his hand. The pain was freezing now, like ice coursing through my body.
Then he pulled the mojo bag from his pocket.
“No,” I whispered. “Mama made it for you. To keep you safe—alive.”
Levi lifted my chin. He touched his chest. Then mine. His hands moved slowly so I understood every word.
“Mama made it to keep us alive.“
Before I could argue, he tied it around my neck. The cold that had been coursing toward my throat stopped, then melted away.
Heat poured through me. Coiling through every spot in my body.
I closed my eyes.
“You home now.” The words floated around me, embracing me like a warm hug. “Hear me, Rosary? You home.”
Mama.
I opened my eyes, but she wasn’t there. Just Levi.
I looked down at my wound and it was all healed, a deep purple scar stretched across my belly. To my right, the Gator’s body lay twisted in the mud. Its head a few inches away, jaw frozen in terror, thick purple blood pooling around it.
Levi picked up the body and walked it to the bayou. I pulled myself upright and followed behind him, gripping the head by its long twists, afraid his eyes might snap open and turn us to ash.
But they would never open again.
We cast both into the water. The swamp bubbled like a cauldron of stew. The head rolled once then sank.
We looked at each other, checking for any hint of scales. A glow…anything abnormal. But the glow was gone. The scales on our skin had faded Our blood, the blood that belonged to the Gator, had somehow been cleansed.
Something thrashed across the grass. A nutria rat, the size of bulldog, stumbled onto our path.
My body took over before I could stop it.
I caught it by the neck and bit down.
Warmth flooded my mouth. The taste of metal coated my tongue. I closed my eyes, savoring the flavor.
When I opened my eyes, Levi was beside me. Chewing through a hind leg. His teeth longer than they should have been.
Something had changed in us. The blood…the curse wasn’t gone. It had shifted.
The Gator no longer owned our blood, but something else had taken root in its place.
An owl hooted overhead. Levi looked up, blood dripping from his sharp teeth. The same hunger burned through me.
The sound cut off mid-call, like it knew something evil was nearby.
The stories about the immortal Gator who dragged men under and scraped their memories raw would fade now—just another old wives’ tale without teeth.
A new legend, about the blood-thirsty swamp demons, would rise.
Mama and Uncle Alcee never knew that part.
Never knew the truth—that the only way to end something immortal, is to become something worse.
That’s a wrap on season 1 of Haintland! Thanks for reading, commenting, sharing, and stepping into this world with me. Your support has meant more than you know. Episode 10 closes the first arc of Haintland, but the story isn’t over. Stay tuned for updates about Season 2—which includes a cover reveal—and what’s coming next.
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