Oya of the Orisha sighed. She had forgotten how hateful humans could be. Oya had the ability to travel anywhere in both time and space, and she’d recently visited the 1960s on planet Earth. But all that decade had to offer was the fake moon landing and racism. It was a time not meant for her.

She rubbed her temples as she looked out over to the horizon. It was the year 2018 and she had been alive for two million years and now, here she was, back on Earth, in Cape Town. Table Mountain was a good place to sit and contemplate her life. Many eras had passed her by. She had not witnessed the awkward 90s or even the cool 70s.

Going much further back though, she remembered some good times. The Renaissance had been interesting enough. That multi-talented artist and scientist Da Vinci, back in the 1480s, knew how to show her a good time. She’d really enjoyed meeting Newton too, in 1660. All those ideas about physics – the dawn of a scientific revolution. Fascinating men, both of them.

Nothing much about the 21^st Century appealed to her and, until now, she hadn’t bothered to visit it properly. The beings here seemed obsessed with technology and material gain. Hateful. And boring too.

Her long life had afforded her many friends and lovers. They’d all been blown away by the winds of time. There were rows and rows of gravestones tattooed in her mind. She called it her Mind Mausoleum. Ian, Rebecca, Zoe, Bayek, and many more, floated around in her head. Their deaths were her fault and the guilt sometimes consumed her. She’d taken them on grand adventures and never truly protected them.

Now, in repentance, she spent her years vanquishing evil. One day the gravestones would disappear. One day they would forgive her, but for now, she continued her mission.

Oya relied on her crows for information and one landed on her shoulder now. “What news?” she asked. It cawed three times and flew off. She sighed.

There had been another murder. Another killing in which the body was completely drained of its fluids. Drained dead and dry. Their husks were always found near clubs or bars. It was the fifth murder in a month and Oya could smell the stench of evil. She rubbed her hairless head and teleported to a mall.

She needed a wig and some ordinary clothes for her mission. Incognito, undercover. ‘Entourage’, a seedy nightclub that overflowed with lust and bad decisions, waited.

“Would you like to buy some airtime, madam?” the cashier mumbled.

“Airtime? What is an airtime?”

“For your phone, madam. To call people.”

“Oh, no! My birds help me find people.”

“Your …? Okay, madam. Have a nice day.”

Soon Oya was back in her small apartment with her purchases. She had a bed and a kitchen crammed into the square meterage of a bathroom. It had a view of the parking area. She didn’t care.

The walls were plastered with newspaper clippings of the murders. Her crows faithfully gave her most of the details, but she still needed to uncover the reason behind the killings.

Her old enemy had never been this active before. Her skin crawled as she imagined the damage this evil being could accomplish. She breathed in deeply and the distinct stench of evil – along with overcooked rice and oats! – entered her nostrils.

It was time to get to work.

***

Tell us: Do you think we humans will ever be able to travel back and forth in time?