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    Blood Diamonds and Black Magic
    Blood Diamonds and Black Magic
    Blood Diamonds and Black Magic
    Ebook100 pages1 hour

    Blood Diamonds and Black Magic

    By Cassandra Kinge and AI

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    In war-torn Sierra Leone, the whispers of restless spirits mingle with the malevolent pulse of blood diamonds. Amara, a powerful magic wielder ostracized for her abilities, is haunted by the consequences of her past.  Accused of conjuring grotesque creatures born from the corrupted earth, she yearns for redemption.  Driven by a desperate need to cleanse her land, Amara embarks on a perilous quest to the heart of the jungle, where a massive blood diamond pulsates with dark energy.
    Carrie Bond, a skeptical journalist haunted by her own wartime experiences, arrives in Sierra Leone seeking the truth behind the ongoing exploitation.  Drawn into Amara's world, Carrie’s cynicism clashes with the undeniable power Amara commands.  As they journey together, Carrie’s modern rationality confronts Amara's ancient magic, forging an unlikely alliance.
    Their path is illuminated by Deborah Herrera, a griot and keeper of ancient traditions. Deborah’s wisdom unlocks forgotten lore, revealing the history of the blood diamonds and the terrifying entities they have unleashed.  Together, they must confront not only monstrous creatures but also the whispers of doubt within their own souls.
    Deep within a forgotten temple, Amara uncovers a hidden history, a lineage of guardians tasked with protecting Sierra Leone from a forgotten deity imprisoned within the blood diamond nexus. As Carrie investigates a network of corruption reaching the highest levels of power,  they realize the fate of Sierra Leone rests on their shoulders. Can they perform the ancient ritual, banish the entity, and heal the ravaged land, or will the darkness consume them all?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPublishdrive
    Release dateNov 11, 2024
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      Book preview

      Blood Diamonds and Black Magic - Cassandra Kinge

      Prologue

      The air hung thick and heavy, a suffocating blanket woven from the humidity of the rainforest and the stench of decay. Rain, a relentless torrent, hammered the iron-rich earth of Lofa County, Liberia, transforming it into a slick, crimson mire. But this wasn’t the familiar hue of the soil; it was something deeper, more visceral. The color of blood, seeping into the very fabric of the land, a stain that no deluge could erase.

      Amara, her twelve-year-old heart a frantic drum against her ribs, stumbled, the mud clinging to her thin cotton dress like a second skin. Beside her, her younger brother, Kai, giggled, his small hand clasped tightly in hers. A fleeting moment of normalcy in a world collapsing around them.

      Don’t laugh, Kai, she whispered, her voice barely audible above the storm’s roar and the distant shouts that echoed through the oppressive night. Shouts that drew closer, morphing from indistinct cries to the guttural pronouncements of men consumed by violence.

      Not men, Amara corrected herself, her stomach twisting into a cold knot of dread. Rebels.

      The guttural cries of the RUF soldiers sliced through the darkness, punctuated by the villagers’ terrified screams, each one a fresh tear in the fabric of the night. Amara scrambled to her feet, pulling Kai along, her bare feet sinking into the mud.

      In Kai’s hand, a small, uncut diamond caught the sporadic lightning, transforming it from a fleeting flash to a pulsating ember. A child's treasure, a foolish fascination with a stone that whispered promises of escape from this ravaged land, promises reflected in Kai's bright, innocent eyes.

      A rebel commander, his face a mask of impassive cruelty in the flickering darkness, materialized before them. He snatched the diamond from Kai’s grasp, his rough hand closing around it like a vise. The light, for a moment, seemed to intensify, as if the diamond itself pulsed with an answering darkness.

      Amara opened her mouth to plead, to beg for her brother's life, but the words caught in her throat, choked by the thick, humid air.

      The commander’s eyes flickered to the diamond, a flicker of avarice twisting his lips into a cruel smile. Then, a swift, brutal movement. The glint of a blade, the sickening thud of metal against flesh, and the warmth of blood splattering against Amara's cheek.

      Kai’s laughter, so vibrant moments before, was extinguished. His eyes, wide with disbelief, reflected the stormy sky above, the light fading as the diamond slipped from the commander's grasp, landing in the mud beside Kai's lifeless hand.

      Time seemed to distort, stretching and compressing as Amara knelt beside her brother, the rain washing the blood from his face, revealing the emptiness in his eyes.

      In that instant, something shifted within her. Grief, raw and all-consuming, ignited within her, twisting into a rage hotter than any jungle fire. The earth beneath her vibrated, a low hum rising from the blood-soaked ground, a mournful song resonating with her own shattered heart.

      The diamond, slick with Kai’s lifeblood, pulsed with an unnatural light, a beacon of despair in the heart of the storm. Around them, the forest seemed to awaken. Vines, thick as pythons, erupted from the earth, ensnaring the startled rebels. Their cries, a mixture of surprise and terror, were swallowed by the rising chaos.

      Spectral figures, wreathed in mist and shadows, emerged from the depths of the forest, their forms shifting and swirling like the storm clouds above. Their roars, a terrifying counterpoint to the thunder, sent the remaining rebels scattering, their shouts swallowed by the wind and rain.

      But the magic, amplified by the raw power of the blood-soaked diamond, surged uncontrollably. The earth, already stained crimson, deepened in hue, the stain spreading like a malignant growth across the ravaged land. The spectral figures, their eyes burning with an unnatural light, moved with a terrifying grace, their forms twisting and distorting as they hunted down the fleeing rebels.

      Then, the whispers began. Faint at first, like the rustling of leaves in a phantom breeze, they grew louder, more insistent, weaving themselves into the fabric of the storm. Not the confused cries of the dying or the accusations of a grieving community. These whispers were different. Ancient. Malevolent. They spoke of forgotten deities, of corrupted power, of a darkness that hungered to consume the world.

      Amara, still clutching the blood-stained diamond, her fingers numb with cold, felt a chilling presence surround her. The spectral figures, their mission complete, turned their burning eyes towards her, their forms shifting and reforming, no longer protectors but twisted guardians of a corrupted realm.

      The whispers intensified, coalescing into a single, chilling voice that echoed through her mind. A voice that spoke not of grief or accusation, but of promise. A promise of power, of vengeance, of a world reshaped in the image of her pain.

      Amara, her young heart torn between grief and burgeoning terror, looked down at the diamond, its pulsating light reflecting in her tear-filled eyes. In that moment, the whispers, the magic, and the diamond became inextricably linked, bound together by the blood of her brother and the darkness that had taken root in her soul.

      The rain continued to fall, washing away the surface blood, but not the stain. Not the whispers. Not the memory of Kai's laughter, abruptly silenced. Not the terrifying awareness of the power that now resided within her, a power fueled by grief, loss, and the chilling whispers that promised a future steeped in shadows. A future she did not yet know how to escape, but one she knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, she would ultimately be forced to confront.

      Chapter 1: The Scarred Cotton Tree

      The heavy, humid air clung to Amara, mirroring the weight on her spirit. Ten years had aged her beyond her twenty-two years, etching lines of hardship onto her face. Yet, a tremor in her hands and a flicker of fear betrayed a vulnerability time couldn't erase. The village path, once vibrant, lay fractured, reclaimed by aggressive emerald tendrils. Rotting mangoes littered the ground, pungent reminders of time's relentless passage. The jungle pulsed with unseen life, a symphony of sound both soothing and unsettling to her frayed nerves. Beneath her worn sandals, the earth sighed, red dust staining the cracked leather, mirroring the stain on her soul. The village perimeter, once a comfort, now loomed, a gateway

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