If you were to ask them, they’ll tell you the story of Bobo
Bobo was a cruel man, born with a black and twisted soul. But Bobo was also gifted. He was gifted with the love of all who saw his handsome face or heard his gentle voice
When he was young, he would steal gifts from his friends. Later, sometimes that same day, he’d show the stolen item to them, surrounded by his friends . When the victim voiced his villainy, Bobo would refute.
“No. This is mine. You must be mistaken.”
His friends would trust him faster than a heart beat and turn on the accuser . Poor old Bobo, constantly getting attacked, why couldn’t they leave him alone?
This was Bobo’s game in youth. As horrible as it was, as he got older, his games got messier. Bobo got bored.
In the village he lived, very occasionally, a child would go missing. The next night their parents would be invited to dine at his mansion.
They’d be served lavish meats, meticulously garnished and marinated. Midway through the meal, he’d tell them the truth. He’d tell them how they were eating their own children.
You see, his voice was so magical by now, he knew he had nothing to fear. When he asked them to continue eating, they would. The parents would laugh and joke at his jokes as they fed on their progeny.
Bobo played his games many times in the village. No one could stop him, or even bear a grudge against him. Who could hate his voice?
A drunk hated him.
He had been one of his victims, and lost his daughter. In sobriety, he loved him like all the rest. Only in his drunkenness, did his true feelings surfaced, and bubbled over into a drunken tirades for all to hear.
One day, his tale came to the ears of a Judge. The Red Judge of Paris.
“He must hanged till death.”
Upon hearing this, the drunk sobered up and started sobbing and weeping, begging the judge for leniency for his daughter’s murderer. Grabbing onto the Judge’s leg, he hollered.
“Please! I swear my soul to you, spare him! ”
“Fine. I promise. Bobo will not be arrested”
With the drunk fell to the ground in relieved stupor, leaving the Judge to think.
The old Judge knew arresting a man so charismatic would be impossible for him. That did not mean he’d forgotten, nor forgiven. Already, a plan for Bobo’s punishment had formed.
The judge visited the house of an old woman. She had been a seamstress in her younger days, now she lived alone in her hut at the edge of the great forest.
The Judge gave her instructions for the punishment and in return, gave her a single copper coin.
“Take it as the soul of the drunkard. A sin coerced is a sin nonetheless. ”
The woman swallowed the coin and gave the Judge a smile, with her blackened teeth and brown gums, like gravestones in a cemetary. The Judge did not return it.
That night, when Bobo was in his bed, the window to his bedroom flew open. In crawled the old woman, on all fours, moving like a thing that forgot how the human body functioned.
Bobo did not call for his guards, for he wasn’t afraid. Instead, he begged with his beautiful voice and cried with his beautiful eyes for mercy.
His voice did not work, for the woman was deaf.
His looks did not work, for the woman was blind
His tears did not work, for the woman was a witch.
The woman carried out her work, deforming his face with her thread and needle. . She cut his tongue out with her scissors and finally, pressed her boiling hot iron against his scalp to leave him permanently bald.
When morning came, his guards found a pool of blood, and the window open wide. Bobo had run away, from shame and horror at his new reflection
He wanders the forests now, with his disfigured form, cursed by the witch to live forever eternally hungry. His face, so ugly, it scares even the dogs away.
This isn’t his end.
If you see his hunched figure, and blacked face among the trees, approaching you, you must run
For Bobo’s magic still hasn’t left him.
His blue eyes are still charmed. If you let him get close enough to you, you will look into his eyes, and fall under his spell.
You’ll reach your hand to him. He’ll bow down, and kiss your hand, like you were royalty. And one by one, he’ll eat the fingers off your hand.
For some reason, even when he can satisfy his hunger entirely, he never does. He’ll just leave you, handicapped for the rest of your life.
I think it’s because, even in death, he wants to laugh at us