In 1947 on a humid July night in New Orleans, NOPD Homicide Detective Roger Guidry lay dying in the moonlit shadow of a large aboveground tomb in St. Louis Cemetery No. 2. Betrayed by his partner, ambushed by the trio of murderous thieves he had been tracking called the Iberville Three, he lay motionless as his life leaked out of him, staining the white pedestal base with crimson rivulets. The unmistakable coppery smell of death was in the air.
A young boy named Jacob Turner who had snuck out of his house looking for adventure stumbled upon Guidry and went running home to his Aunt Lathonia, with whom he lived. He breathlessly told his aunt about the strange man in the suit and dark glasses who lay in the cemetery. Lathonia immediately rushed next door to tell Mademoiselle Couvillion about what her nephew had discovered.
Roger Guidry was a man known to Mademoiselle Couvillion. She knew him as a hard but decent policeman who tirelessly worked to make the city safe for regular citizens. He was an angry man, a violent man, a man tormented by personal demons. He channeled that anger into taking down down some of the most nefarious criminal elements of New Orleans. A violent end in the middle of the night for him was perhaps an inevitable fate, but not this night. Not if it was in her power to prevent it.
She sent her three sons to collect Guidry and bring him to the house. Once they had gone, she set about preparing the Hounfor, located in the back of the modest dwelling. A Hounfor is an inner sanctuary where the religion of Voudoun is practiced. Mademoiselle Couvillion was more than just an old woman who sold handmade crafts in Jackson Square in the French Quarter. She was a Voodoo priestess, a disciple of Maman Brigitte, who was the female Guardian of Graves, a powerful magical Loa (Voudoun deity) of cemeteries.
Her sons returned and laid Guidry out on the large cot in the center of the room. She shooed them out into the hallway, closed the door, and inspected the detective closely. He was very near death. This was perhaps beyond her powers. But she had to try.
She worked feverishly through the night, praying incessantly to Maman Brigitte and performing numerous arcane rituals, several of which she had studied but never before performed. The air in the Hounfor was thick with smoke and the acrid smells of ancient and powerful magic. Mademoiselle Couvillion's priestess robes were damp with sweat and her body driven by purpose as she twirled around the prone detective, expending all her energy in an attempt to conjure up the spirit of Ghede, the most benevolent of the Loa of the Dead, a powerful healer and protector.
She conjured up more than she bargained for. Once the mystical portal was opened, Ghede did indeed enter the Hounfor, but riding along on her coattails was Damballah Ge-Rouge, a vile and horrific Rada Loa whom the violent Petro Cult worshipped. The two Voudoun dieties grappled for control of the wounded detective. Ghede attempted to heal Guidry's wounds while Damballah tried to seize control of his soul. A fierce battle was waged in the tiny room while the terrified priestess cowered in the corner and her sons beat relentlessly on the door.
With a muffled pop the portal closed abruptly and Mademoiselle Couvillion was once again alone in the Hounfor with Guidry. With a trembling hand she ran her fingers over the detective's forehead and then checked his pulse. His vital signs were stronger, his fever broken, his skin less clammy. His hair, once dark brown, had mysteriously turned a striking shade of green. Aside from that, he seemed at first glance to be unchanged.
For two weeks Mademoiselle Couvillion and her boys nursed Roger Guidry back to health, whereupon it soon became apparent that the detective had actually undergone some very profound and disturbing changes on that sweltering night in the steamy Hounfor. Healed by Ghede but tainted by Damballah, he now posessed strange otherworldy powers and the ability to drain the very essense of a human being for his own physical gain. A green aura radiated from him as he tapped into his Voudoun connection from the other side.
He was a changed man. For all intents and purposes, on that fateful night Roger Guidry ceased to exist. And in his place stood....The Green Menace!
