The High Priestess of Blood

*Per leggere questo articolo in Italiano clicca qui.*

In 1996 we could admire on the big screen a beautiful and provocative Salma Hayek, dressed as a pre-Columbian divinity, dancing wrapped in the coils of an albino boa on the stage of a strip club on the edge of reality. A club where the worst atrocities were committed, coming from the true pen of Quentin Tarantino and directed by the watchful eye of Robert Rodriguez.

But what if I told you that, in a forgotten village in Mexico, there really were vicissitudes worthy of the best Pulp films by Tarantino & Rodriguez?

We are far from the "spooky season", but - thanks to the celestial influence of Taurus and a Beltane that has just passed, on this night I want to tell you a story where lust, thirst for power and bloody rites mix. Fasten your seatbelt, we're flying overseas.

**Read here our post about Beltane

Precisely, we are in the sleepy town of Yerba Buena - in the 1960s.

A village that lends itself to being the perfect stage for the story we are going to tell you. Lacking basic facilities such as schools, pharmacies or churches, it consisted mainly of farms and vast fields of beans and corn - cultivated by its inhabitants, some fifty mostly illiterate souls. Yerba Buena was the classic rural center that saw all its days pass marked by the same rhythms, since time immemorial. An immutable balance that was revolutionized by the arrival of the Hernández brothers.

It is not clear how the Hernández brothers arrived in this remote corner of Tamaulipas, we only know that they were characters well known to the police: perhaps looking for a place to keep a low profile and escape the watchful eye of the law, Santos and Cayetano, however, could not resist the temptation to deceive the naive local population.

Pretending to be descendants of the Inca and among the last priests of their lost religion (even though we were in Mexico), the Hernándezes promised infinite riches to the inhabitants of Yerba Buena: it was rumored that there were treasures lost among the caves of the Sierra Madre, the mountain range at whose feet the village stood. It was enough just to follow their instructions to make the prophecy come true, bring the Gods back and enjoy infinite riches. Simple, right?

In a short time, the brothers went from simple low-class swindlers to highly venerated gurus with a supposedly ancient lineage: after conducting rituals based on psychoactive substances (mainly cannabis and peyote) and animal sacrifices in honor of the Aztec goddess Coatlicue, they began to ask for compensation in money and offerings in libations.

Clearly, the people of Yerba Buena were not very wealthy so monetary donations were soon not enough to satisfy the Hernándezes' thirst for power. The brothers, therefore, began to demand retribution in full-fledged acts of slavery, with an eye especially on the young girls of the village. Once their perversions were satisfied, they sold the young girls to prostitute traffickers in border towns where no one would find them again.

As naive and uneducated as the inhabitants were, they began to wonder why - despite the libations, money and propitiatory rituals - the Inca gold was not found as promised. The Hernándezes thus had to adjust their shot.

Even before meeting the Hernándezes, Magdalena Solís did not live an easy life: forced into prostitution from an early age in the services of her brother Eleazar, she struggled between the streets and scams in which she pretended to be a medium and fortune teller. Young, beautiful, uninhibited and familiar with the supernatural, she was the perfect person to impersonate the Goddess Coatlicue: she and her brother were hired by the Hernándezes as the reincarnation of the Goddess and her faithful priest.

One evening, the Hernández brothers met the inhabitants in the caves overlooking the village: finally, the long wait was over and the divine had answered their prayers. During one of their rituals, they made Magdalena appear behind a screen of smoke - as the reincarnation of Coatlicue, leaving those present breathless. However, what the Hernández brothers had not factored into their plans was Magdalena's psychosis - aided by the excessive use of cannabis and peyote - which she convinced herself was truly the reincarnation of the Goddess.

Coatlicue, moreover, was not just any goddess: goddess of fertility and death; she was often represented with two snakes in place of the severed head, powerful claws on her hands and feet to tear the bodies of the deceased and wearing only a necklace of human skulls, hands and hearts and a skirt of snakes - leaving her breasts exposed, deflated and flaccid from countless pregnancies. And like Coatlicue, Magdalena also needed blood to be appeased: stealing the stage from the Hernándezes, she began to lead even more depraved rituals, where bystanders were forced to consume peyote, drink the blood of sacrificial animals and engage in wild orgies. If anyone dared to oppose the bloodthirsty regime of the priestess, they were killed as a sacrificial victim by their fellow citizens. Taken by frenzy and mystical delirium, Solís used to extract the still beating hearts of her victims - and then drink their blood mixed with narcotic substances, in ritual chalices.

And it was during one of these bloody rituals that young Sebastian Guerrero stumbled upon the bloody kingdom of Magdalena Solís. Wandering aimlessly through the Sierra Madre, he was attracted by screams coming from a cave: intrigued, he approached and saw the woman extract a beating heart from a human body, drink its blood with the bystanders and launch into a wild orgy. Distraught, Sebastian ran 15km to reach Villagrán and the nearest police station – where he told of “vampires who drank human blood”. Despite the mockery of the police, officer Luis Martínez decided to follow the boy and find out what had happened. Seeing neither Guerrero nor Martínez return, the police also decided to investigate but were not ready for what they saw.

The Solis brothers were found on one of the farms together with Santos Hernández, in an altered state of consciousness. The latter was killed by the police while trying to escape. Cayetano Hernández, however, it turned out that he had already been dead for some time - murdered by an inhabitant of Yerba Buena.

In the surrounding farmhouses and in the caves, they found several mutilated bodies - including those of Guerrero and Martínez. The villagers, seeing the police arrest their goddess, triggered a real armed revolt. The survivors were arrested and presented for trial.

At trial, they never took action against Magdalena and her brother Eleazar - perhaps fearful of Coatlicue's divine judgment or too traumatized by what had happened. The two brothers, despite the abuse inflicted on the villagers, were only sentenced to 30 years in prison for the murder of Martínez and Guerrero. In all these years, it is not clear what happened to Solis-the blood priestess, but according to some sources she apparently died in prison before her release.

This story, as told by the media, can tickle that sense of unease and the occult that we all crave: death, sex, ritual drugs and bloodthirsty deities. But I would like to go a little deeper with you, without limiting myself to this superficial vision, however tempting it may be; it is very easy to fall into the "satanic cults and drugs" trope, especially in a very Catholic Mexico of the 1960s. But let's take a moment to look at the various elements that have been mentioned in news events.

THE GODDESS COATLICUE

One of the main goddesses of the Aztec pantheon, as mentioned above, was depicted with a fearsome appearance to say the least. Relegating her only to a bloodthirsty divinity would be a huge wrong and gross mistake: like many ancient female divinities, she was an ambivalent goddess. If on the one hand she needed human sacrifices (which she was fond of) as Tzitzimītl, on the other she was a divinity linked to fertility. For ancient peoples (and still today, outside the Abrahamic West), life and death were two sides of the same coin - an aspect that unfortunately today we tend to ignore in our thanatophobic society.

In fact, as mentioned above, Coatlicue was normally depicted with her breasts deflated from breastfeeding: according to Aztec mythology, she was responsible for keeping the temple at the top of the sacred mountain Coatepec (the “Mountain of Serpents”) in order. Seeing a mysterious ball of feathers fall from the sky and land on the floor, she picked it up, placing it in the waistband of her skirt and becoming miraculously pregnant there.

Her daughter Coyolxauhqui (the goddess of the Moon), angered by this discovery, decided to declare war on her mother together with her four hundred brothers, the Centzonhuītznāhua (representing the stars of the firmament). Once the mother was beheaded, Huitzilopochtli (the god of war and the Sun) emerged fully armed from her womb and fought against her brothers and sister in a long and bloody battle.

With the Spanish invasion of Cortés, Coatlicue definitively lost its multidimensionality with the syncretism with the beloved Virgin of Guadalupe, reminiscence of ancient memories and ancestral divine feminine - in a unique place like Mexico, where the sacred and the profane follow one another in life everyday. Over the centuries, the legendary temple of Coatepec was replaced with a cathedral in the imagination of the local population, replacing and, at the same time, assimilating with renewed vigor the echoes of a fallen empire and ancient cults of the land.

THE USE OF PSYCHOTROPIC SUBSTANCES

Here too, we could fall into the classic cliché of bad drugs - but in reality we should talk about HOW these substances can be used, especially when talking about ancient power plants such as peyote and cannabis. Used for thousands of years for ritual purposes, they have only recently been (re)discovered for therapeutic use also in the West: in fact, not only are they very powerful spiritual allies, but they also have numerous healing properties.

Cannabis, fortunately now legalized or decriminalized in many countries, is often used to alleviate the symptoms of terminal illnesses, neuropathic and chronic pain and sometimes to alleviate symptoms of some neurodivergences - both in its form with THC and in its form with CBD (the two main cannabinoids found in the plant). The active ingredient of peyote (mescaline), however, is one of the many substances at the center of the psychedelic renaissance of recent years - together with the more famous psilocybin (magic mushroom), lysergic acid (LSD) and dimethyltryptamine or DMT (ayahuasca).

Studies show that these power plants can be invaluable allies in creating new neural pathways and processing complex traumas in psychotherapy. Although these substances are not suitable for everyone (despite spiritual influencers saying otherwise, in certain individuals they can trigger psychosis and accelerate the onset of pathologies such as schizophrenia), it is undeniable that they have been demonized above all for political purposes (i.e. the War on Drugs). Despite promising results in the 1950s in the field of psychedelic research (with more than 1000 clinical studies published), in the 1970s they were completely banned due to recreational use in youth countercultures; unfortunately closing the door to scientific research and hundreds of years of spiritual use for over 30 years, effectively making nature itself and the history of man illegal. Whether it is for spiritual, therapeutic, recreational use (or all three), the important thing is to take them in a safe context where you feel at ease and with full awareness of any side effects - as it is still of ancient spirits and allies of power.

IN CONCLUSION

Before judging the events of Yerba Buena, both in terms of the naivety of its inhabitants and the bloody Solís, we must pause for a moment on the socio-cultural framework of rural Mexico in the 1960s; a country plagued by a colonial past and has always been a border town between South America and the USA with their corresponding contrabands.

When inalienable rights are missing, such as education and safety and comfort for one's families, we should not be surprised if an entire village found itself willingly accepting to carry out such heinous crimes, with the promise of obtaining immeasurable riches promised by a self-styled Aztec goddess.

Obviously we don't want to justify the atrocities committed by Magdalena; but I still believe we need to talk about how these elements (the psychotropic substances and the mystical delirium that resulted from them) could have been comburents to trigger a mass psychosis in the people of Yerba Buena and in this young woman - following a life at the mercy of of traumatic events from an early age. As often in cases like these, we are talking about people who are desperate and ostracized by society: it is not difficult to imagine how a mind can crack to such an extent; furthermore, as mentioned above, the excessive use of narcotic substances can cause - if done incorrectly - significant psychological damage.

Obviously, here we find ourselves in an extreme case: the vast majority of abuse victims do not become bloodthirsty monsters; but if we think that these events of systemic violence are things of the past we are greatly mistaken. Nowadays, there are monsters far more bloodthirsty and frightening than Magdalena Solís: monsters who do not hide in the most isolated fringes of society, but act dressed in suits and ties, from leather armchairs while justifying the genocide of entire populations by hiding behind the banks of the powerful.

These are the monsters we must guard against, the most dangerous and lethal ones. Monsters who, in the name of ideals and economic interest, create and maintain a society where there is no room for the undesirable, for the different, amidst the total indifference of people and governments.

♃Ludna

The Poisoners of Nagyrev

*Per leggere questo articolo in Italiano clicca qui.*

Although it arrived late compared to previous years, thanks to the endless summers of climate change, we are now in the midst of the spooky season: gloomy days, crepuscular atmosphere, the scent of fallen leaves and petrichor in the air, it is undeniable that November, the month of the dead, is here with its festivities and trail of travelling souls.

**Read our article for Samhain here.
**Read our article for Mundus Patet.

Between ghosts and ghouls and creatures of the night, today we want to tell you a story of fallen souls that reside on this side of the veil and in the human soul, the undisputed kingdom of evil.  A story that talks about witches, death and times gone by.

The story takes place under the skies of Hungary in the early 1900s, a land famous for its rich landscape, the scent of goulash bubbling in sumptuous kitchens, the fertile banks of the Danube and a past full of history and folklore - reminiscences of imperial splendour and ancient shamanic memories. The same heart of Europe that gave birth to the bloodthirsty Countess Erzsébet Báthory, a figure shrouded in history and legend, gave birth to today's protagonist: Zsuzsanna Fazekas.

The story begins in a Hungary on the brink of the collapse of the then Austro-Hungarian empire and far from its glory days: at the front, the First World War would soon claim the souls of more than 500 thousand soldiers while in the villages the women were left to themselves, carrying on, as best they could, their daily lives.

As bleak a prospect as it may have seemed, women soon found their balance in this renewed matriarchal society; at the time, the female condition was not what it is today: often, marriages were arranged by families and young women found themselves having to wed into the harsh reality of a married life without rights, an unwanted dowry of a loveless marriage. Often with numerous dependent children and farming work to carry on, some of them found consolation in the arms of prisoners of war - stationed in a prison camp near the village of Nagyrév, the main stage of our story. While the war raged on the front, a bubble was created in the heart of Hungary of independent, libertine, and sexually free women, who unfortunately found themselves sometimes with unwanted pregnancies.

And here Zsuzsanna, the protagonist of our story, comes into play.

Nagyrév was the mirror of many Central European villages of that era: a secluded and austere reality, set in the middle of the Hungarian countryside marked by rhythms in tune with the inexorable pace of the seasons.

In places like these, suspended in a liminal dimension, villagers relied not so much on the progress of science but rather on centuries-old traditions and popular remedies. In these places, in case of illness, one knocked on the doors of the elderly village healers with their mastery of herbs and knowledge of feminine mysteries.

Zsuzsanna Fazekas was one of these authoritative crones; appeared in Nagyrév in 1911, after the mysterious disappearance of her husband, she established herself as a reference figure thanks to her curriculum as an expert midwife. Like so many of them, she was also a capable abortionist - a technique then illegal and frowned upon as much as it is today but practised out of necessity for as long as anyone can remember. An extremely useful knowledge, in the libertine Nagyrév of those years: it is said that Zsuzsanna had been arrested several times, between 1911 and 1921, for having carried out numerous illegal abortions in the village.

Like many other realities that seem immutable, the Great War also came to an end. The survivors, severely affected by the experiences they lived on the front (today we could say suffering from PTSD) returned to their home village, bringing with them from the front bloody demons whom they were seeking to appease with large quantities of alcohol. As it is easily imaginable, men, often physically and mentally disfigured, struggled to find their place in a post-war society that abandoned them while women, on the other hand, experienced an intoxicating independence during the war years, which they did not want to give up in favour of an often abusive husband who had never been loved and now incapable of providing for the family.

Nowadays a confidant of the women of the village and a wise healer, Zsuzsanna decided to make her knowledge of poison path available to the villagers. Like many other healers, the woman was a dual figure: on the one hand a giver of life, on the other a bringer of death.

Thanks to a mysterious arsenic-based mixture (a faithful and undisputed ally of court intrigues over the centuries), husbands, elderly parents and unwanted children began to drop like flies - literally. The precious poison, in fact, came from none other than the boiling of fly traps. Due to having cholera-like symptoms and being the village rural with often unsanitary water sources, arsenic poisoning seemed like the perfect crime.

It is not very clear how the case became public knowledge: according to some sources, a medical student found alarming levels of arsenic in the river on whose placid banks the village of Nagyrév stood, while according to other sources an anonymous letter was sent to the director of a local newspaper. During the investigation, the police had the bodies exhumed from the village cemetery - which showed traces of arsenic. It is estimated that, over the course of twenty years, around fifty people met the same mysterious fate as Zsuzsanna's husband who died prematurely.

The Fazekas method spread like wildfire in the surrounding areas: some men residing in nearby villages reported attempted cases of poisoning which led to the shocking discovery of this series of crimes, which shook an entire nation and left an indelible mark on Hungarian history. According to some estimates, the victims amounted to up to 300 people in the area alone - but who knows how many other people succumbed to the same fate.

When the police knocked on Zsusanna Fazekas' doors, it was too late - holder of life and death, the midwife would never have allowed herself to be executed like any criminal, she took her own life with her own poison. Starting with Fazekas, the police discovered the other members of the "Angel Makers" group (as they were later known to the rest of the world): 26 women were sentenced to life imprisonment, 8 to capital punishment and the remaining a few years in prison. Was this finally enough to eradicate the evil in Nagyrév? Perhaps.

In the 1950s, historian Aladár Györgyey Ferenc met an old villager during his years of imprisonment under the communist regime; the peasant claimed that Nagyrév's women "had been killing their men since time immemorial."

But why witches?

Although over the centuries midwifery was considered a position of prestige, during the Middle Ages it became associated with Witchcraft and many women were thus accused and executed over the centuries - guilty many times only of simply being midwives with medical knowledge and experience with natural remedies. And with the knowledge of pharmacopoeia, also comes the knowledge of poisons and the Ars Veneficium, as we know, has always been a precious ally of women in the history of the world - from Lucusta to Giulia Tofana, to court rumours on the controversial figures of Lucrezia Borgia and Catherine de Medici (to remain only in Italy).  Zsuzsanna Fazekas was one of the many historical figures who made use of this knowledge.

In Nagyrév, as in many other European countries of the early 20th century, superstitions were deeply rooted in the local culture. The folklore surrounding witchcraft, potions and magic were a powerful influence and the Angel Makers embodied to perfection in the imagination collective the fearsome image of witches.

As much as this story may make you shudder, it is actually a cross-section of female history over the centuries. To fully understand the questionable motivations of Fazekas and her accomplices, we must first remind ourselves of the consequences of social abandonment and gender inequality: while their actions were undeniably criminal, it is vital to examine the systemic issues that drove these women to such extremes.

Nagyrév no longer inspires fear as it did hundred years ago, luckily conditions such as PTSD are now recognised and treatable and nowadays women enjoy freedom that their ancestors could only dream of; the story of the Angel Makers today remains a chilling chapter in Hungarian history, which fascinates both historians and enthusiasts of true crime. Their crimes were born of desperation, abandonment of society and the desire for freedom; by understanding the complex web of circumstances that led to their actions, we gain insight into the darkest corners of human nature and are reminded in a way of how far we have come can push to escape the chains of their existence.

♃Ludna