A melancholy tune rises from the riverbed, sweetened by personal grief; it is the mark of El Naddaha, the caller. An Egyptian jinn, rumoured to stalk the night in search of fresh blood. She is no different than the Sirens of Greece mythos, relying on the hypnotic danger of a sweet, somber voice to reel in men without loyalty or curious souls in search of beauty where it does not belong. The legend first appeared in the early 20th century, with farmers swearing to their wives and god that they had seen her on nights with bone-fog and moonlight. According to the spun tale, she pulls herself from the Nile embankment, out from the undercurrents to breathe. Black hair is plastered to her nape, dress wet and heavy where shoulders meet collar; now, she is ready for the hunt. Her swan song carries for miles, and it is the last her prey will ever hear. Honey-heavy and tragic. El Naddaha is barefoot and in love with her own misery, prowling the Delta region with slow, deliberate intent. Siren-like, her voice pulls them from their homes and into her arms. A…
