The kind of Voo Doo that you do could be Hoo Doo

The man she believed she had buried is back and knocking at her door. It sounds unbelievable, but it is entirely true. This story unfolds in the enchanting streets of old-time New Orleans, a city profoundly influenced by the practices of hoodoo. Miriam and Baron, an elderly couple shaped by the passage of time, live in a charming yet dilapidated house on Rampart Street, a thoroughfare rich in history and mystery. During this period, rituals were often performed in the stillness of ancient graveyards, where the weathered tombstones stood as silent guardians. The Congo tree, with its twisted roots and sprawling branches, served as a secret gathering place for those seeking to connect with powers beyond the ordinary.

Miriam and Baron could hear the chanting, drumming, and animal sounds from sacrificial rituals that began under the moon and lasted through the night. In the morning, they would take their usual walk down Rampart Street.. There would be remnants of bloody bones and feathers, sometimes even a black cat carcass or a chicken with a broken neck, along with candles and voodoo dolls. Strange things were indeed happening around the Congo tree—black magic, with hoodoo Priests and Priestesses conjuring evil spirits and death demons to curse the living.