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

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The Ghosts Of New Orleans (A PARANORMAL RESEARCH AND CONTAINMENT DIVISION (PRCD) CASE FILE) Page 6

by Reid, Terri


  Paul closed his eyes, but not before Eloise saw the pain in them.

  She shook her head. “No, no...I mean I was wrong.”

  He opened his eyes, a little confused. “What?”

  “You were right,” she admitted, “I was so busy thinking about the paranormal, that I forgot about reality. I am miles away from any kind of help, if the man waiting outside the cemetery had not been you…”

  Paul stepped forward and gently ran his hand down her cheek. “Although even with it being me, you weren’t treated fairly.”

  “Paul, I know we have to work together,” she said. “But I can’t get involved with you. The last time…”

  Paul hesitated and then stepped back. “You’re right,” he said brusquely, “Now is not the time to bring emotions into the situation. Let’s drive back to your base and you can bring me up to date on what you’ve learned so far.”

  The change in Paul’s demeanor was so abrupt that Eloise felt like a rug had been pulled out from under her. She knew that a relationship with Paul would have been dangerous, but did he have to give up so easily?

  “Fine, Major, I’ll meet you at the base camp,” she replied, letting herself into her car. In a matter of moments she was accelerating down the street and away from Paul.

  Paul stood by the road, watching the car until she turned off onto Rampart Street. “But sooner or later, emotions are going to get involved,” he said to her departing car.

  Paul hopped into his Humvee and followed Eloise back to base.

  Chapter Six

  “Do you think I’m an idiot? Zombies? Zombies for heaven’s sakes? Do you think this is a Hollywood horror flick?” Paul asked, striding around the inside of the motor home.

  Sally, dressed in black stretch pants and a black top, calmly ate a handful of granola while she sat, cross-legged, on the computer desk. Eloise sat back in the office chair with her feet propped up on the desk. The sun had nearly set, casting a pinkish hue on the sunbeams that filtered through the window blinds.

  “Does he always act like this?” Sally asked, grabbing another handful of granola.

  “Only when confronted with things he doesn’t understand.”

  Sally shrugged. “Must be a fun date.”

  Paul stopped and glared. “I heard that.”

  Sally shrugged. “Listen, tall, dark and military, there are things out there that you don’t understand. Hell, there are things out there that I don’t understand and I have an IQ of 195. But, nevertheless, they are out there.”

  Paul turned to Eloise. “Is that true?”

  Eloise nodded. “Yes, she has an IQ of 195. I saw the forms.”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “No, I mean about things out there that we don’t know about and that we don’t understand.”

  Eloise sighed and nodded. “Yes, sometimes I catch glimpses of things that I have never seen before. Shadows that are dark and evil. Lately there seems to be more of them, but it’s not an area in which I excel. One of my colleagues is working on that area of research. Right now, my expertise is relocating spirits.”

  Paul perched on the edge of a stool. “So, zombies...this is crazy, right?”

  Sally shook her head. “There was a recent TV documentary... featuring a man who thought he had been turned into a zombie and a scientist who thought that he had discovered a poison that could turn a person into a zombie. I guess you never know what’s out there.”

  “So, how does one go from a dead person to a zombie?” he asked.

  “If a dead person’s spirit can be reconnected to his body through voodoo, the zombie has no will of his own, but remains under the control of others,” Sally explained.

  “So, what is this Lalaurie – a voodoo practitioner?” asked Paul. “A bad witch, an evil spirit? And where is it getting its power?”

  “That’s the kicker,” Eloise explained. “Many of those entities are actually demons or demon-wannabes who want to do harm to others or who work for those in league with their master.”

  “You mean like Satan worshipping?”

  “Well, when they talk about a caplata who performs evil spells and black magic, you can pretty much guarantee that she’s made some kind of bargain with the devil,” said Sally.

  Paul stood up and started pacing again. “This is totally amazing.”

  Sally turned to Eloise, “He’s pretty much a black and white kind of guy isn’t he?”

  Eloise chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, yeah he is.”

  Paul stopped in the middle of the room and turned to face them. “Okay, so what do we do next?”

  Sally nodded thoughtfully, “I like that, an action guy.”

  She pulled a clipboard from behind her on the desk and, with pen in hand, proceeded to make a list.

  “I like that,” Paul said, “A list maker.”

  Sally giggled and tossed Paul a saucy wink.

  Eloise opened her laptop and started a search on “New Orleans” and “Lalaurie.”

  Paul and Sally analyzed where the largest concentrations of deaths, and therefore, spirits would be located and plotted a matrix.

  “Hey, this is interesting,” Eloise said.

  Paul and Sally looked up.

  “The haunted history of the Lalaurie Mansion in New Orleans is perhaps one of the best known stories of haunted houses in the city. It tragically recounts the brutal excess of slavery in a horrifying and gruesome manner because for more than 150 years, and through several generations, the Lalaurie house has been considered the most haunted location in the French Quarter.”

  “Cool!” said Sally, moving over next to Eloise.

  “Cool?” asked Paul and Eloise simultaneously.

  “There’s more,” said Eloise. “Madame Lalaurie was considered one of the most intelligent and beautiful women in the city. But this was the side of Madame Lalaurie the friends and admirers were allowed to see. There was another side. Beneath the delicate and refined exterior was a cruel, cold-blooded and possibly insane woman.”

  “Sounds like Madame Lalaurie is certainly a person of interest,” Paul said.

  “Yeah, a dead person of interest,” Sally added.

  Sally, reading over Eloise’s shoulder, added, “Listen to this. According to the newspaper, the New Orleans Bee, all of Madame Lalaurie’s victims were slaves she kept hidden in an attic room. They were only discovered because of a fire that occurred when she was hosting a party.”

  The paper recounted the stories from the firefighters who arrived to put out the blaze. At first they were confused why the mistress of the home would want to bar them from her home. But later, after their macabre findings, they understood. Slaves were found naked and either chained to the walls in the attic or strapped to long narrow tables.

  The firefighters testified that she had performed some kind of grisly experimentations on her victims. Women had their stomachs sliced open and exposed, so the inner workings could be observed. Often the inside organs had been removed and wrapped around the victims waists. One woman had her mouth stuffed with animal excrement and her lips sewn shut.

  They reported the men were in even more horrible circumstances. Fingernails had been ripped off, eyes poked out, and private parts sliced away. One man hung in shackles with a stick protruding from a hole that had been drilled in the top of his head. It had been used to “stir” his brains.

  The final conclusion was the “experiments” had been administered so as to not bring quick death, but to observe and annotate the body’s slow and anguishing response to pain. Regardless, many of them had been dead for quite some time. And of those who lived, many begged to be killed and put out of their misery.

  Eloise shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Okay, well we have a pretty good idea that we are not dealing with a nice person,” said Eloise, “So, what happened to her when she was found out?”

  “She got away,” Sally read.

  “What!?!” asked Paul incredulously, “After doing that, she just got away
?”

  “While they were putting out the fire, the family made a run for it,” Sally added.

  Eloise continued scanning the page.

  “There are two rumors about her final destination. Some think that she returned to Paris, but others feel that she ran away to live with other relatives in the Louisiana area.”

  Sally shook her head. “I can’t get my head around someone who could do that to another human being.”

  Paul nodded. “It’s the same kind of madness that allowed Hitler and the Third Reich to perform experiments on all of those Jews during the Holocaust.”

  Eloise moved away from the screen. “It’s not madness; it is evil, pure and simple. And when you allow evil to take you over, you are capable of doing anything.”

  Suddenly, the room around Eloise got blurry and she was pulled away from Paul and Sally. She tried to call out, but her voice caught in her throat. She reached out, but it was too late.

  The villager was once again grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the sea. But this time, instead of a sandy beach, Eloise was in the marshlands that lined the Louisiana shoreline. The sky was dark and stormy. The wind howled and sand struck her skin like pellets.

  Once again she was struggling against him, bracing her feet in the mud, pulling back with all her might. She looked around for something to grab hold of, but there was nothing. In the distance she saw a woman wearing an old-fashioned full-skirted dress.

  Eloise called to the woman. The woman moved forward in the sand. When she got within a few feet of Eloise, she smiled and then began to laugh.

  That laugh! She had heard it before. It was the same evil laugh from her other dreams. Eloise found herself weakening, overcome with a feeling of despair. Her feet slipped in the mud. The villager pulled her closer to the dark waters of the sea.

  Screaming as one foot was submerged in the cold waves, she tried desperately to pull back. She looked up at the villager; he was now a grotesque caricature of a rag doll with black ragged seams sewn all across his face. He pulled harder. She felt the tidewaters rushing around her legs, her stomach, her neck, pulling her further and further into the darkness. She tried to call out, but water filled her mouth and engulfed her scream. Bubbles exploded from her mouth and nose as water enclosed her head. Eloise knew she was going to drown.

  Suddenly, two strong arms lifted her out of the water and held her. Paul’s arms tightened around her as she burrowed into his chest, shutting out the laughter and the horrid face of the villager. She could hear the sea calm and could feel the warmth of the sun on her body. Finally, the all of the sounds of the sea were gone.

  She opened her eyes and found herself in Paul’s arms, back in the motor home. She struggled a little, but he held her close.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, concern creased his face.

  She nodded, but then belied her actions by trembling.

  “Where the heck did you go?” asked Sally, peering over Paul’s shoulder. “One second we’re talking about the evil Madame Lalaurie – the next second you’re all white and cold. And look, you’re soaking wet.”

  “Let’s get you changed and into a hot shower,” Paul said, and carried her back to her bedroom without waiting for a reply, “Sally, get some water going for tea.”

  Paul kicked the bedroom door closed with his foot and sat down on the bed with Eloise still in his arms.

  “Paul,” Eloise said, pushing against his chest, “You can put me down now, I’m fine.”

  Paul laid his cheek against the top of her head and let his breath out in a long shudder. “Well, you’re a liar and I’m certainly not fine, so let’s just sit here for a moment. Okay?”

  Eloise smiled slightly and let herself relax against Paul’s chest, enjoying the temporary comfort of his arms.

  Paul tightened his arms around her. “Okay, so what happened?”

  Eloise shook her head. “I don’t know, one minute we’re discussing evil and the next moment I’m back at the beach fighting for my life.”

  “Your experience, was it just like last night?”

  “Almost, but there were a couple of significant differences.”

  She shifted and sat up in his arms, so she could see his eyes.

  “I was in the marshes – not on a sandy beach in Sumatra. I saw a woman standing on the beach. I think that she was or at least represented Madame Lalaurie – she was dressed in 1800s attire. She looked right at me – like she knew me. Then she smiled…”

  Eloise trembled a little and Paul tightened his arms.

  “It wasn’t a friendly smile. Then the laughter started again.”

  “The same laughter you’ve heard before?” Paul asked.

  Eloise nodded. “Yes, it felt like it was everywhere. I kept losing my footing and the villager...but maybe not the villager...was leading me out into the water.”

  “What do you mean ‘not the villager’?”

  “This time the villager had a face that looked like it had been sutured in a thousand places.”

  “So, how did you escape?”

  Eloise paused for a moment and then looked up, met Paul’s eyes and said, “You saved me, Paul. The water was over my head, I could feel its pull and I knew that I was losing when suddenly you picked me up and lifted me out of the water.”

  She shrugged, and turned her head away from him, just a little, “Once I was in your arms, the laughter stopped, the storm ceased and I knew that I was no longer in danger.”

  They remained silent for a moment; then she looked up into his eyes and was caught by the tenderness she saw there. He tucked her back into his embrace and held her tightly.

  “You scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know what else to do, so I was going to take you to the medic. When I picked you up, you seemed to respond.”

  “Well, you obviously did the right thing. Thank you.”

  “Eloise, I know this is hard for you – but for now, can you trust me enough that we can work as partners?”

  “How can I say no when you just saved my life?”

  “Good point. Now you owe me,” Paul answered smugly, and then he stood and nearly dropped her on the floor, “Now go take a hot shower. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Eloise, a little surprised by his change in attitude, grabbed her robe and marched into the bathroom. With the door firmly locked, she called out.

  “Well, fine, why don’t you go help Sally with the tea. I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

  She swore she could hear a chuckle as she heard her bedroom door close.

  “So, Major, what’s the scoop on you two?” asked Sally, when Paul walked back into the common area. She pulled three large mugs out of the cabinet and placed them on the counter near the stove.

  Paul tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

  Sally chortled. “Oh, you do that REALLY well. You just about intimidated me.”

  She pulled herself up onto the counter and smiled.

  Paul had to stifle a chuckle himself. “Do you often poke your nose into the business of others?”

  Nodding her head enthusiastically, she nodded. “Sure, I do – it’s how you learn and I love to learn. But, actually, and more to the point, as a paranormal researcher there are often links to relationships and power.”

  Paul shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow you.”

  She grabbed a carrot out of a bowl on the counter, took a tiny bite and then responded, “Researchers often look back at folk stories or wives tales to discover if the story has any basis of truth. Recently, a study was done based on a series of fairy tales.”

  Grabbing a carrot for himself, Paul perched on the edge of a stool.

  “Are you telling me that researchers have found that Cinderella really existed?”

  Sally rolled her eyes. “No, what I am telling you is that love conquers all.”

  Paul choked on the carrot for a minute, cleared his throat and asked, “What did you just say?”

  She grinne
d. “Well, most researchers would call your reaction quite interesting.”

  Paul narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Most researchers would be worried that they would be transferred to Alaska.”

  Sally laughed. “Wow! Threats too. You are good.”

  Then her tone changed and she folded her arms across her chest and looked pointedly at Paul.

  “Look, I don’t care what went on between you two in the past. But you have to know you saved her life today.”

  Paul nodded. “Yeah, she mentioned that to me.”

  “Okay, good. But I don’t think she realizes it wasn’t just because you happened to lift her up at the right time or you somehow interrupted the cosmic forces against her. The only reason you were able to save her is because she loves you.”

  Paul shook his head, stood up and walked across the room, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “No, you’re wrong, researchers are wrong, the whole damn world is wrong. I walked away from whatever love Eloise could have had for me a long time ago.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t say she knew she loved you. I didn’t say she will ever acknowledge that she loves you. But you have to know it and believe it, in order to protect her.”

  Paul stopped and ran his hand across his forehead. “So, this isn’t a happily ever after kind of thing?”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. And, quite frankly, if you went up to her and told her what I just told you – she’d probably run away from you.”

  “And I wouldn’t be able to protect her.”

  Sally nodded and smiled sadly. “You got it!”

  They both heard the bedroom door open. Sally looked at Paul.

  “Now wipe that sad puppy-dog look off your face and be the big mean bad-ass military man we both know you love to be.”

  He smiled. “You really are brilliant.”

  “Yeah, it’s tough,” Sally admitted with a grin, “but somebody’s got to do it.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I think you are both nuts,” Paul said, folding his arms across his chest. “And I’m not going to be a part of this scheme.”

  He stood in the center of the common room, Sally was perched on the computer desk and Eloise was seated cross-legged in the office chair.

 

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