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

around.
    “You sure this is the place, ma’am?” he asked.
    Eloise nodded. “Yes, Sergeant, this is the place.”
    Eloise carried the portable generator to a spot just beyond the
illumination of the head lights.  She turned it on and then plugged in the
synthesizer.  She had recently discovered that spirits were sensitive to
certain wavelengths of sound.  She had studied a variety of music from
classical to rock to determine which sounds pulled the spirits toward her.  The
control panel of the synthesizer was covered with white labels where tracks of
songs had been stored for her research. After experimenting with so many types
of music, she found it interesting that the spirits seemed to respond best to
sounds of nature.
    Adjusting the switches, she started the track that held whale songs, adjusted
the speakers and moved a few feet away from the machine.  A high pitched,
lonely sound emanated from their speakers.  The two Marines looked a little
confused – yet they stood ready, assault weapons in hand, and guarded the
circumference of the area.
    “I don’t think this is going to draw any of the unfriendlies out, Ma’am,”
Sgt. Turner offered. “Actually, it’s mighty creepy if you ask me.”
    Eloise nodded.
    “Actually, this is a different kind of mission.  We are looking for
another kind of former occupant of the area.”
    “Ma’am?”  asked Sgt. Anderson.
    “Sergeant, tonight we are seeking the dead.”
    Both Marines visibly gulped, tightened their grips on their weapons and
then nodded. “Yes, ma’ am,” they replied in unison.
    Eloise turned from the Marines.  The moon was moving out from behind a
bank of clouds and shining over the area, reflecting off the sandy ground.  The
large uprooted trees and remaining parts of small homes cast eerie shadows
around the clearing.
    Focusing, Eloise could see mists in the distance drifting towards her. 
She watched as the mists began to take shape and imitate the forms they had been
when they were alive.  She sighed sadly as she watched mothers with babes in
arms glide towards her, children holding hands with brothers and sisters
cautiously step forward, and men with sadness and despair in their faces joining
them.  She estimated over 300 spirits stood before her, nearly the entire
population of the little town.
    She turned to glance at the Marines assigned to watch her back.  They
stood, eyes wide, hands white knuckled on their weapons, staring into the mist
before her. 
    Their commanding officer chose well, she thought.  Both of these men are
sensitive to the things beyond this world. “Sergeant Turner, Sergeant Anderson,
are you okay?”
    Years of discipline and training surpassed fear and they snapped to
attention, eyes alert and bodies poised for attack.
    “Ma’am,” replied Sgt. Turner. “What would you like us to do?”
    “Actually Sergeant, you are fine where you are,” Eloise replied. “I
appreciate your help this evening.  Now, it’s going to get a little unusual for
a while.  Just stay where you are and everything will be fine.”
    Both Marines nodded their heads and waited.
    Eloise turned to the large group before her. She took a deep breath and
then stepped towards them.
    “My name is Eloise Parker and I’m from the PRCD,” she began. “I
understand that a terrible thing has happened to your town, your homes and your
families.  I am here to help relocate you.”
    A large African-American woman moved toward the front of the group.  “What
the hell you talking about?” she raged, “I ain’t relocating nowhere – this here
is my home and this is where I am going to stay.” 
    She folded her arms across her chest and stared defiantly at Eloise.
    Eloise took a deep breath.  “Ma’am,” she began, “Could I ask you your
name?”
    “Elizabeth, Elizabeth Brown,” she replied.
    “Ms. Brown, Elizabeth,” Eloise said, “Are you a church-going woman?”
    Elizabeth was insulted.  “Why of course I’m a church