It was the thick of night as Byron skulked across New Albion to the crossroads in his arms he had Jasper. He had asked the others to come help him to set up the stage for the morning. When he got there, Jackie and Amelia had already managed to gather many of the dolls.

The crossroads, now adorned with makeshift altars and surrounded by the mechanical dolls, became the sacred stage for the Voodoopunks ritual. The distant hum of machinery mixed with the whispers of the wind, creating an eerie symphony. Byron smiled, “This looks great, I see the others slowly joining us.”

Jackie grinned, “This will be fun! I prepared plenty of items, go inspect them, my friend.”

Byron nodded and looked at the various symbolic items that were arranged on the ground, including candles, antique keys, and small, intricately crafted dolls. A large, ancient-looking tome lay open, its pages filled with esoteric symbols and incantations. A jar of shimmering powder, said to be made from crushed moonstones, awaited its role in the ritual.

Amelia walked over towards him, “Hey, how are you doing today? Are you nervous?”

Byron chuckled, “Me, nervous? No, I am never nervous, interested in this ritual?”

Amelia eagerly nodded, “I like these dollies. They are my friends, my confidants.”

Byron nodded and looked at Jasper in his arms, he put him on a barrel in the middle of the stage they were making. “I feel the same, I love these dollies.”

As everyone they wanted was ready to join the ritual had arrived, and the early worms of New Albion started looking at them. This was the first time the Voodoopunks would do a ritual in out in the open, but everyone knew they were around.

Amelia cleared her throat, “Let us begin.” Amelia, with a voice that carried both pain and determination, began chanting ancient incantations, calling upon the shadows that lurked at the fringes of reality. The words resonated with a haunting melody, echoing through the crossroads.

Jackie, her ceremonial robes billowing like an otherworldly mist, performed a graceful dance. Her movements, synchronized with the rhythmic beats of a small drum, created an illusionary dance of shadows around her. It was a mesmerizing display that seemed to blur the lines between the tangible and the ephemeral.

Byron, being the charming leader, stepped forward, his vibrant red hair catching the candlelight. With a commanding presence, he declared the Voodoopunks allegiance to the shadows, a rebellion against the oppressive rule of his father, Edgar. The crowd, now fully captivated, listened intently to their chants.

Seated on the barrel, Jasper remained an enigmatic figure. His eyes, though mechanical, seemed to glint with hidden intelligence, as if he had expected this moment for a long time. The dolls surrounding the crossroads stood as silent witnesses, their metal frames casting elongated shadows that added to the ritual’s mystique. Whoever they once were, unknown, but they looked at Jasper as if he were the leader.

As the ritual reached its climax, the shimmering powder was scattered into the air. The powder caught the candlelight, creating an illusion of swirling shadows that enveloped the participants. A hushed murmur passed through the crowd as they witnessed the ethereal manifestation of the shadows. They had never known the Voodoopunks were capable of this.

With the shadows now seemingly present among them, the Voodoopunks extended an invitation to the onlookers. Those who dared to approach were welcomed into the circle, their presence amplifying the connection between the living and the shadows. Byron danced around Amelia who kept chanting, she smiled at him that said, she wanted him.

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Byron, on the other hand, he just saw her as a good friend, he was not interested in women. Some of the crowd joined and danced with them, others were skeptical and remained at a safe distance. Jackie called out, “Come join, summon the shadows with me, let the dollies join us, dolly, oh, dolly!”

Byron jumped on top of the altar next to Jasper, “Folks that joined, folks that look at us, our voodoo is opening other lands with our movement. Do you see the spirits dance, do you see, the dollies enjoying our love song to them? We reject our fathers worlds, come and dance, sing with us, dolly, oh, dolly!”

Jackie nodded as she threw more dust into the air that seemed to give people a high, “Go on, Byron.”

He smiled at everyone, “My friends, a new mayor needs to be selected for New Albion, Edgar, my father, has already chosen a corrupt one. You don’t see it, do you, he is going to take your money, he already did so. He’ll break down your doors, take your freedom next. The police will wander the streets and kill anyone they deem fit.”

The gasps from the crows were loud, they could not believe what they were hearing, from Edgar’s son, nonetheless, but they were amazed by the dancing, the whirling shadows, Amelia’s voice. Byron showed them a charming grimace, “We are all equal, but my father does not see that. If you really want everyone to be equal, to share and conceive ideas in freedom, to not have your freedom clipped, then vote for Jasper,” he pointed at him.

An onlooker screamed at him, “You want us to vote for the dead?”

Byron jumped off the altar and made his way through the crowd and grabbed his hand, he took him to the ritual, “Do you see the dollies among us?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Then sing with me as you have helped these dollies come to live, to haunt the streets of New Albion, you bought one, didn’t you?”

“Yes, everyone did.”

“Then sing, you know what to sing, you are not just, some zombie following my father’s order, no you are free to join us.”

The man slowly nodded as he sang, “Dolly, oh, dolly!”

Byron jumped back on the altar, “You see it too people, don’t you? Your money is not yours, it is all Edgar’s money, you gave him power, and now you are in his grasp, but I need you to be freed. I heard him, the taxes will be doubled with the new mayor, so vote for Jasper, who knows, everyone is equal, now and in dead. Instead of the system, walk away, be free, with us! Vote for Voodoopunks and together we will dance on your grave.”

Most of the onlookers joined and started singing and dancing with the ritual, “Dolly, dolly, oh dolly!”

Byron laughed as he danced, and his red hair flew around, “Jasper, you did well, I love you.”

Jasper looked around him, when he had heard the plan, he did not expect hippies of the dead, including his grandson, who is loving him a bit too much. But here he is, dead, and still going to be a mayor. Just as Edgar was charming and able to sway the people to his side, Byron had the same gift. It is astonishing, Fay would be proud of him, I am proud of him.

Someone cleared his throat, an older Edgar, “Son, stop this at once, you cannot put Jasper up for election, he is dead.”

Byron jumped off and danced through the crowd towards his father, “Don’t you get it, dad. You made the dead an important thing in New Albion, now they belong here. In the shadows, in our rituals, the dead cry out in pain, we make them feel better. To stop him from joining, would weaken your power. Are you afraid I am going to win?”

Edgar scoffed, “I keep on selling more dolls, the day one will be a mayor is never going to happen, who put you up to this, your mother?”

“Fay? The woman you keep captive, no, this is all my own doing, these are my best friends,” he pointed at Amelia and Jackie. “I reject your world, I will recreate it in my vision, a free New Albion. There is noting you can do to stop me.”

Edgar let out a deep sigh, “I told you to keep these rituals a secret, look what you did to the crowd.”

Byron glanced at the crowd dancing through the shadows while they sang, “Dolly, dolly, dolly.”

He grinned at his father, “I am going to defeat you with my voodoo.”

Edgar shook his head, “If you think this is the way to reject me and annoy the fuck out of me, you are mistaken. Well, this does annoy me. I have an election to run, for a living mayor. I have put up a new factory to sell more of your precious, dollies as you started calling them.”

Byron moved back into the circle while he flipped the bird to his father, he started chanting along with Amelia. It did not take long before Jackie joined them in chanting for the dollies. Jasper looked at Edgar, he had gotten way better with moving around and creaking less. He also flipped him the bird.

Edgar scratched his nose as he looked at the ongoing ritual, more and more people started to join them, he flipped the bird to Jasper. “I am going home, Fay must be worried sick, I am going to tell her, our son has gone mad with voodoo.”