The Ghosts Of New Orleans (A PARANORMAL RESEARCH AND CONTAINMENT DIVISION (PRCD) CASE FILE)

by Reid, Terri

  Sally turned to Eloise with a confused look on her face. “I thought that this was your first time to Louisiana,” she said.

  Eloise nodded. “It is, but I remember all of this from my dream.”

  They parked the car on the side of the road and pulled out their equipment. Not only did Eloise carry her paranormal electronics, she also had a backpack that held a flashlight, a digital camera and water. Sally carried a backpack that held a small pick-ax, a flashlight and small containers for collecting samples.

  They first walked toward the water. Their booted feet, protected from debris and snakes, sloshed through the high water of the marsh, About ten feet ahead of them they spied a small hill.

  “Okay, according to my readings, the first beach is just over this hill,” Sally said.

  Eloise climbed up and stood at the crest of the hill. She could see how the water had taken over the marsh. The Cyprus tree branches that had probably hung over the water now floated on top. But other than a tremendous feeling of sadness at the loss, Eloise felt nothing for the piece of ground she surveyed.

  She turned to Sally and shrugged.

  “Nope, this isn’t it.”

  Sally nodded and checked the map. “Okay, the next site is about four miles to the west.”

  They got back in the SUV and took dirt roads along the coast to the next site. This site was much the same as the last, the land was devastated. There were no singing birds or croaking frogs – only the incessant hum of hoards of mosquitoes.

  Eloise followed a small path toward a rise above the beach. When Eloise reached the top of the hill she felt a knot in her stomach. She gazed around the area. There was the harbor and over a little farther was the beginning of the rise. She could see the spot where she and Delphine had spoken before she was cast out to sea. Yes, she was certain that this was the beach that she had been on with Delphine.

  Eloise nodded, “This is the beach.”

  Sally joined Eloise on the top of the rise and looked around.

  “Okay, I say we really don’t need to go down onto that beach for now. How do you feel about that?”

  Eloise nodded. “Yeah, we know we’re in the right place. Let’s explore the area.”

  Walking north, they located a patch of shrub trees that had not been destroyed by the storm.

  “Wow, this is weird,” Sally said, walking through the wooded area. “It’s like it was protected or something.”

  Once again Eloise was feeling that this area was familiar. She stopped and surveyed the area slowly.

  “Sally, this is the place in my dream,” she said slowly, “This is the plantation.”

  “You mean this is the Jean-Paul meets his doom place?”

  Eloise nodded wordlessly.

  “Cool, let’s check it out,” said Sally.

  Eloise led Sally through the woods to a grassy area. The tall grass was knee high and was surrounded by an old wire and fence posts. They entered the area through a break in the fence and slowly walked around. Eloise kicked a large rock. She bent down to examine it further and realized that it was the cornerstone of a foundation.

  The memory of the charred carriage house came rushing back. She stepped away from the rock and took a deep breath.

  “Okay,” she called to Sally in a shaky voice, “We just found the old carriage house.”

  “Not much left of it, is there?” Sally asked as she walked over to Eloise, sipping on a water bottle.

  Eloise shook her head. “As I recall, there wasn’t a whole lot left after that night.”

  “So,” said Sally, looking around the area, “which way to the house?”

  Eloise led the way back up the path from the carriage house. The clear path she had been on during her dream was now overgrown with bushes and brambles.

  Finally, they broke through to the other side and found themselves in a grove of ancient willow trees.

  “This is so weird,” Eloise whispered, “It’s like being in a bad movie.”

  Sally came up behind Eloise and nodded. “Did I ever tell you that I hated those kinds of movies?”

  Eloise chuckled. “For some reason I figured they would be right up your alley.”

  “No, way,” Sally said, moving around Eloise into the grove, “And once the creepy music starts – I’m outta here!”

  They made their way through the grove to an old and rotted gazebo.

  Sally ran her hand along the rail. “Okay, this is really cool. I mean can you imagine the clandestine meetings that took place in here?” she turned to find Eloise looking clearly embarrassed.

  “So, you and Jean-Paul had a little something going on out in the gazebo that night, eh?” she wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

  Eloise shook her head. “It was nothing, it was a kiss, that’s all,” she said.

  Sally walked over to Eloise. “Just one kiss?”

  Eloise blushed.

  “Dang, that guy’s a player,” she chuckled. “So, how much like Jean-Paul is the Major?”

  “Shut up,” Eloise answered, and started walking towards the old house.

  “Yep, he’s a player all right,” Sally chuckled.

  The old plantation looked like it had been abandoned long before the hurricane hit, although there were mud marks about four feet high on the outside of the house. The beautiful French windows with blown plate glass were now rotted pieces of wood that were covered with pieces of plywood. The lovely patio was now overrun with weeds and bushes. Eloise tried the door and found it locked.

  Sally came up behind her with her small pick ax and knocked out a piece of plywood, stuck her hand inside the house and opened the door.

  Eloise looked at her in surprise. “You do realize that breaking and entering is against the law.”

  Sally shrugged. “So arrest me,” she said as she stepped into the room.

  The inside of the house was dark, so Eloise clicked on her flashlight and followed her.

  Once they stepped inside they heard the patter of tiny footsteps in the walls scattering in a dozen different directions.

  “Mice?” Sally asked.

  “More like rats,” Eloise said.

  “Gross,” Sally retorted.

  They walked across the ballroom, the parquet floor now broken and warped. Long black cables dangled from the ceiling where, Eloise imagined, chandeliers must have hung. The walls were empty except for nails and picture wire.

  They continued across the floor and entered the grand hallway. The marble floor was covered with several inches of mud and a particularly angry-looking snake slithered across the floor away from them.

  Sally jumped back, nearly sliding onto the floor. She grabbed hold of the oak banister to the grand staircase.

  “So, which way – up or down?”

  Eloise looked around. It was clear that the hurricane had left her calling card on the house and everything that had been below the water line had probably been destroyed.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she decided. “Delphine had a penchant for attics.”

  They carefully climbed the stairs; wary of rotted steps. Breaking through one of them would have sent them hurtling two stories down to the cellar.

  “This must have been a great looking house in its day,” Sally commented, looking at the gas lamps that lined the staircase.

  Eloise nodded. “It was gorgeous.”

  Sally shook her head. “You know, it’s kind of weird to know that you saw it the way it was. Isn’t this freaking you out?”

  Eloise shook her head. “I should be a little more concerned, but really it doesn’t bother me.”

  They reached the second floor safely. The staircase opened onto a large hall that split off into two wings. Sunlight drifted through the cracks between the panels of plywood used to cover the old windows, giving the house an eerie shadowy look.

  “Okay, first rule,” Sally stated. “We don’t do the “let’s split up and save time” thing. We stick together because if this gets any creepier, I’m going to w
ant to hold your hand.”

  Eloise laughed, “Okay, we stick together.”

  They chose to investigate the west wing of the plantation first. As they walked down the hall, they could feel strands of cobwebs brush across their faces.

  “Gross!” Sally said, wiping them away. “I suppose no one has walked these halls for a long time.”

  “No one living, at least,” Eloise said, grinning.

  Sally turned and glared at Eloise. “You know you aren’t helping the situation. You may recall that my job was supposed to be in an office, working with a computer. Your job was the dead people side of it. My job description says nothing about dead people.”

  Eloise shrugged. “You just didn’t read it properly. Dead people fit in under ‘And all other duties as assigned.’”

  “When we get back, we’re modifying my job description,” Sally said, wiping another cobweb from her body, “This is just gross!”

  Eloise shone the beam from the flashlight on the hallway walls. The wallpaper was stained and moldy, but she could see that at one time it had been expensive damask silk. Although faded, Eloise could still make out the rose pattern and gold background. The carpet beneath their feet was a faded rose carpet with watermarks from the leaks in the roof and windows.

  The first door they came to was partially ajar. Sally pushed it open and then jumped back when a large chunk of ceiling plaster fell down.

  “Obviously, this house could use a little fix-me-up,” she commented, before stepping over the plaster and walking into the room.

  The room was spacious and had an attached dressing room, so Eloise assumed that it was the master bedroom. The room was bare except for a cherry-wood washstand in the corner. The four large paned windows were covered with plywood and the large paneled walls were peeling and moldy. A thick layer of dust covered the floor.

  Sally moved to the wall and started knocking.

  “What are you doing?” Eloise asked.

  Sally turned to her and rolled her eyes. “Checking for secret passageways, of course. Duh,” she replied.

  Eloise shrugged and walked to the other wall and started to knock.

  “Um, Sally,” Eloise said after a few minutes of knocking. “What’s the knocking supposed to do?”

  Sally turned and placed her hands on her hips. “Who trained you anyway?” Sally asked. “I thought secret passage knocking was covered in Investigating 101.”

  “Well, I wasn’t trained to be that kind of an investigator,” Eloise replied, feeling a little miffed. “So sorry if I don’t know all the cool stuff.”

  Sally grinned. “That’s okay; I only learned it because I watched X-Files all the time. What you’re looking for – or better, listening for – is a hollow sound in the wall. So, if you knock and it sounds pretty solid, but right next to it sounds hollow – you could have a secret passageway in the wall.”

  “Or you could have a house beam and then lathe and plaster,” Eloise commented.

  “Well, yeah, you could have that too,” Sally admitted and then turned around and continued knocking.

  They knocked their way through the entire west wing – each bedroom empty and dilapidated. At the end of the wing was a narrow door that opened to a staircase to the attic.

  “Okay, which way do you want to go?” Eloise asked. “Up the attic stairs or back across to the east wing?”

  Sally shrugged. “Let’s go up, I’m tired of knocking.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The narrowness of the stairs forced Eloise and Sally to climb them single-file. Eloise went first, shining the beam of her flashlight first down on the step in front of her and then to the side to ensure the tall narrow walls on either side were solid. Cracked plaster hung between the exposed beams, little had been done to cover up the original construction.

  At the top of the stairs, Eloise found another door – this one heavier than the one below - with a wrought iron latch that had a large chain and bolt threaded through it.

  “Someone didn’t want anyone upstairs,” Sally said, shining her flashlight on the door. She handed Eloise her small pick-ax.

  “Go for it,” she said. “It’s probably rusted through anyway.”

  Eloise maneuvered the pointed edge of the pick ax between the body and the arm of the lock. Then she pulled down with all of her might. The lock held, but the latch that was attached to the door splintered and pulled away.

  “Do it again,” Sally encouraged.

  Eloise lifted up and then once again pulled the pick-ax forcefully downward. Then latch gave way with a snap, hurtling Eloise past Sally down the staircase. Eloise grabbed for the railing. Splinters scraped her palms, but she held tight.

  “Wow! Good catch,” said Sally, then turning she started up the remaining stairs. “Now, let’s see what we have here.”

  She started to push open the door, when Eloise grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

  Sally jumped. “What?!?”

  “Okay, wait. Before you open, let’s think of the person who locked this door,” Eloise said. “I don’t think that she was the kind that would just let you walk in if you happened to break the lock. Remember, she had a bad experience with that once before.”

  Sally leaned back against the stairway wall. “You’re right, she probably has it booby trapped,” she said. “So, what do we do next?”

  They thought about it for a moment. Then Eloise got an idea.

  “Wait here,” she said, before turning and running down the stairs and back down the hall.

  “Like there was anywhere else I’d go,” Sally called after her.

  A few minutes later Eloise was back with the cherry washstand they had found in the first room.

  “Okay, just what are you going to do with that?” Sally asked.

  “Stand back and watch,” she said.

  Eloise turned the stand on its side and holding on to the base, thrust the legs against the door, opening it wide. A large ax, anchored above the door, swung past the doorway. The ax crashed into the legs of the washstand, easily cutting through them with the weight and obvious sharpness of the blade. Sally blanched and leaned back against the wall.

  “Remind me to thank you every day for the rest of my life.”

  Eloise exhaled sharply. “This is one really not-nice lady that we are dealing with,” she said. “We should both try to remember that in the future.”

  They cautiously entered the attic, their flashlight beams trained in front of them. The attic was long and narrow, running the entire length of the house, with exposed lathe crisscrossing the ceiling and a small window at each end.

  Eloise walked to one end and pulled the plywood off the window. Daylight poured into the attic and instantly the room was filled with hundreds of dark objects flapping through the air. Sally screamed and dropped to the ground, her arms covering her head. Eloise quickly moved away from the window and used the plywood as a shield as the angry bats circled madly until they found the hole in the window and exited.

  Finally, when the last bat had made its way out of the window, Eloise put the plywood down.

  “Sally, you okay?” she asked, her eyes adjusting to the bright light.

  “Yes,” Sally replied, brushing dirt and dust off her clothing. “But I just learned that my fight or flight response is definitely flight.”

  “El, look!” Sally’s eyes had adjusted quicker and she could see that they both stood in the center of what could only be described as a torture chamber.

  Skeletal remains lay scattered around the room. In one corner, a pile of about two dozen human skulls stared with unseeing eyes at Sally and Eloise. Long tables lined the length of one side. Arm bones and leg bones lay loosely against the shackles that had once imprisoned them. A body cage had a pile of bones lying at the base, the skull balanced precariously on the top.

  “Did she just leave them here to starve to death?” Sally asked.

  Eloise shook her head. “I don’t know, but for their sakes, I hope not. What a
terrible way to die.”

  Sally turned to Eloise, confused. “Wait, what do you mean you don’t know? I thought that you talked to dead people.”

  “It’s kind of like sound waves,” Eloise explained. “When you and I talk, the sound waves come out of our mouths and are clearly audible by those within a certain distance. However, once they move beyond that close contact, the waves decrease in volume and get softer and softer – they never really go away, they just keep getting softer.”

  Sally nodded. “I read about that - a Benedictine Father - Marcello Pellegrino Ernetti invented a method of recovering sound waves from the past and converting them into visual and acoustic reconstruction of history.”

  Eloise shook her head, “Wow – you really are brilliant.”

  Sally continued, ignoring Eloise’s comment, “Ernetti's theoretical approach was based on Aristotle's concept of the disintegration of sound. Aristotle believed that light and sound waves don’t disappear after being produced, but are transformed in some way and remain present indefinitely. According to Ernetti, sound waves subdivide into harmonics that can be recovered with appropriate instruments.”

  Eloise nodded. “Exactly – the same is with the spirits of the dead. When death is recent, the spirits are easier to reach. It takes less power to be able to help them. But when they’ve been dead for a long time…”

  “It takes a more powerful receiver to contact them,” Sally finished, nodding her head with understanding.

  “Of course, there are exceptions,” Eloise said. “Like Maria Leveau, because she receives power from all of those who believe in her and keep her memory alive.”

  Sally walked slowly across the room and stood next to one of the tables. A tiny skeleton of a child was strapped with leather thongs to the coarse wood.

  “And so, what happened to all of them?” she asked, her voice breaking as she gestured around the room.

  Eloise walked over to Sally and placed her hand on Sally’s shoulder. “Well, perhaps they moved on without any help.”