City of Ghosts: A Tale of the Deep South

I shut off the engine of my car and released my seat belt. I stepped out of the car and looked around. An old wooden building stood before me. The wood looked dated and splintered like this place had been there for many years. I checked my watch it was 8:30 am, I was on time for my Wednesday meeting. As I made my way towards the door gravel crunched beneath my feet. When I placed my foot on the first step up to the patio it gave out a loud shriek, and then reciprocated the sound with my other foot. As I made my way inside the door I could tell this old bar was a local's only establishment. The inside was dimly lit. I turned my attention to the bar where one patron sat. He was an older gentleman graying and haggard. In front of him on the bar sat an ashtray with a burnt out cigarette, and next to that sat a half drunken mug of beer. He appeared to be lost somewhere in his own world.

I looked up a little farther but saw no bartender around. I shifted my attention to the other side of the establishment where a women leaned up against the wall was talking quietly to her friend who sat beside her. I couldn't make out what they were saying. The one leaning against the wall had short brown hair that only reached to the middle of her neck. Her faced was turned away so I couldn't see and she appeared to be slender without many curves. The other women sitting on the stole next to her had hair of a similar hue only hers was longer in length. She was sitting in a profile perspective to me so I could only see the side of her face. The one side of her face was drained of color. She almost looked like a copy from a black and white newspaper print. As I scanned once more across I noticed a figure near the back sitting at a round table alone. I approached the man, "Julius Posales" I said. He replied, "Yes, please have a seat Lamont." Of course he knew who I was he was expecting me as was I expecting him to be here. At this point you're probably wondering what is going on. Who is this man and what did I want with him? Well, you know about as much as I did at that time.

I was referred to Julius by a couple of people around town. They said he has some amazing stories to tell. One's you wouldn't believe. I couldn't pass up an opportunity to meet such an interesting individual. I'm sorry how rude of me. I'm getting ahead of myself. Before I go any further perhaps I should introduce myself as well. My name is Lamont Jasper. I hail from a little town in Missouri by the name of Kirksville. I'm what you would call a folklorist. See, I travel all over the world searching for stories. Not just any story, peculiar ones. Stories about twisted tales of the unknown the ones nobody wants to believe are true. I've spent so much time over the past few years seeking out the stories of Europe Vlad Dragula and Mary Bathory are some of the more well known ones along with many others. I decided it was time to dig deep into the American sub culture of the occult. I chose New Orleans as my first stop. After all New Orleans is rather well known for strange and unusual happenings. I figured what better place to start. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's see where was I? Oh yes!

On the table sat an empty brandy glass and a bottle of Old Crow bourbon. As he shifted in his chair Julius said, "let's take a little ride." His voice was low and raspy. I agreed and we rose to our feet and headed for the door. Once outside I followed him to his car parked at the edge of the lot. He unlocked the doors and invited me in. He inserted the key into the ignition and started up the car. The radio came on playing some old country music he quickly lowered the music to a quite rumble. We then pulled out of the parking lot and on to the road. For the first few minutes there was an awkward silence. Then I finally broke it "I hear that you have had a lot of interesting encounters in your life. I am very interested to hear some of them." Julius glanced my way then focused his eyes back on the road. Then he began to speak, "The thing about stories is the same story could be told one hundred times in one hundred different places each one adding its own spin. When people talk about Los Angeles they always refer to it as the city of angles. New Orleans is the city of ghosts!" I wasn't quite sure where he was going with this, but I knew that I better pay attention.

Julius loosened his grip on the wheel and I could see his eyes begin to shutter. "Lamont do you remember the first woman you ever loved I sure do. I can recall it with vivid imagery." I was young then barely eighteen. Still a virgin and my friends thought it was time I became a man. They dragged me down to a local bordello with much reluctance in my heart. Of course I was scared I had never been with a woman before. We walked through the door and the place was decorated in old Orleans fashion. The madam approached us and my friends explained the situation to her. She didn't even offer a line up she knew the perfect girl for the job. I was taken up the stairs and into a room. I was instructed to sit down in this big ole oversized chair. The chair was more like a throne. It was very grand. The rest of the room was very plain with a large king size bed located exactly in the center of the room. I heard the door begin to open and shifted my attention. She glided through the door with much elegance. I knew from my first glance that she was something special. She was wearing a long flowing silky white gown. That blended into her body like it was an extension of her.

Her face reminded me of angels. Her soft milky smooth skin was like heaven. She had deep blue eyes like the sea that lit up the room. Her hair was a golden blonde full of perfect spirals of ringlets. She was the most magnificent creature I've ever seen. I couldn't remove my eyes from her. She slowly strode toward me with great confidence. I couldn't speak. Even if I could I didn't no what to say. I mumbled out a few words before she touched her finger to my lips to hush me. "Don't worry you don't have to be afraid," she said. "Just let everything take effect naturally." She than began to glide her hands across my body. I felt a tingling sensation as she did so. She moved her left hand across my face bent forward and gently kissed my lips. He lips were velvety soft with bursts of passion in them. She then began to undress me. First, she removed my shirt slipping it off over my head. Then she brought me to my feet ever so slowly unbuckling my belt and then removing my pants. Finally, she bent down and removed my underpants leaving me standing there naked in front of her. Oddly enough I no longer felt afraid. She had a calming effect over me that made me feel safe with her. She laid me down on the bed gently and then came out of her silky white gown revealing her naked flesh. I could feel the excitement rise in me as she moved closer. We then proceeded to well you know what happened next. After we had finished and both were dressed. She was preparing to leave. Before she could exit the room completely, I reached out to her, "what's your name." "Monique," she replied with a smile and then disappeared into the hall. That was my first encounter with the lushes Monique and it wouldn't be my last. I came to see her rather often and loved her with all my heart until the end. About a year later I showed up at the Bordello for one of my routine evenings with Monique. When arrived I was shocked to find out she was gone. Gone without a trace! "Love is a tricky thing Lamont. You never know when it's going to come or when it will go away. It just jumps on you like a gator on its prey catches you by surprise." Julius then veered toward me with a sad look on his face. I could tell this girl had meant a lot to him. The way he told the story it was almost like he was reliving the experience right then and there.

For about the next half hour Julius was quite. He didn't say a word. Once again I was forced to break the silence. "Julius that was an amazing story, what others do you have floating in that head of yours?" Julius began to speak, "why is it that people are so interested in others stories, what pleasures lye in others pain and happiness?" I thought about it for a second then responded, "I suppose the majority of us live such boring fragile lives." We want to know what its like to really live." Julius had a look on his face as if he was in deep thought. He eventually turned to me "I guess that's the reason why some people go looking for extreme or out of the ordinary activities." Speaking of which I once knew a guy, he was a good man a good friend of mine. His name was Jacque Le Baptise. He had actually come to the Cajun country from the mother land of France. He came in search of; well no one really knew what he was looking for. Jacque and I would spend many a days in an old bar drinking bourbon and telling stories of our younger years. He would tell me stories of his travels throughout Europe searching what kinds of life were out there. I would tell him about the mysteries of the Cajun south ghost, vampire, and old voodoo tales. Jacque seemed particularly interested in one of the more elaborate tales of the south. The story was about this old house located just outside of town. It still stands to today which amazes many people. The only reason it has never been bulldozed is because people are afraid to go near it. Jacque he wasn't afraid at all. He was rather intrigued by it. To sum up the story of this old house in a few short words, it was believed to be originally built and mastered by two old vampires. When the slaves under these men discovered their true identity it is said that they began to perform a voodoo ritual one evening out in front of this house. This ritual was meant to damn these men worse than they already had been.

Supposedly removing these men's souls from their bodies and trapping them in a state of purgatory forever. Word got out about the voodoo ritual and a few days later a lynch mob of men came to the house and murder all of the slaves living in it. There has been strange goings on reported there ever since. This was an improbable site for Jacque to pass up. He knew that he had to go there. I warned him, but he didn't listen. One morning Jacque rose early and headed out to the old house. When he didn't return after a few days I became worried. Myself, and a few other brave souls headed out to the house. We never did find Jacque but we did find his journal. Jacque always carried a journal with him on his expeditions to document what he witnessed. Inside his journal he detailed what happened that morning. Jacque entered the house exploring every inch nook and cranny of that place. It took him literally hours. During this time he did not find one single thing out of the ordinary. Jacque was upset by this considering all of the stories and lore surrounding the house. As he sat there contemplating what to do next he heard a faint sound from outside. He made his way down the stairs. As he got closer to the front door the sound got louder. Outside he could hear the sound clearer. It sounded like chanting. It was coming from the wilderness out in front of the house. Jacque ventured out into the wilderness; he was getting closer and closer to the sound. Then all of the sudden it stopped! Jacque froze momentarily and then continued farther into the wilderness. He heard a loud shriek and that was the last thing he wrote. We found the pages of his journal out in the wilderness splattered in blood. Whenever, I tell this story people always ask me if it's true. I always tell them I might give you an answer, but it's not the one you want to hear. I know how that sounds. That last story is something straight out of the latest horror movie, but hey you can think what you wish, but what you wish is not what I know.

That's the odd part of stories everybody wants to hear them, but few believe they are true. Why enthrall yourself in something so meaningless unless deep down you really felt the opposite. As I pondered what Julius had just said I took a look out and realized that we had been driving for some time now and must be miles from the city. The more I thought about this the more I began to worry. Where was Julius taking me? What did he want from me? If I show I'm scared though Julius may take advantage of that so I decided to continue on with our conversations. "If many people consider the last story so faulty then why tell it Julius? Don't you have something more real for me?" At this point I saw grin form on Julius's face for the first time. "You want something really real Lamont," he shoot back. "Patience be thy virtue and soon enough you will see the real." This statement startled me, but once again I knew that I couldn't let it show. "What till then, do you have another not so real story for me?" "There are only two things I do have plenty of stories and time," Julius stated. He then began to pull me back into the world of his mind. "You know I had a family once Lamont, just like everybody else." That was a long time ago. They all passed away many years back. I'm not sure what it means to be normal, I'm sure my family was anything but. I grew up here in New Orleans in the city. Even as a young child I knew the city was bustling with sin everywhere you looked there was bordellos and bars and not much in between. My father he was a lumberman working in the mills that provided all the materials for the growing city. My mother wasn't around much. She didn't have a job but she was always out gallivanting about. My father at the end of the day would make his first stop at the bar and then home to the family. We never really had what you would call quality time. My sister and I bonded because of this. We had no else but each other. We spent many of our days alone. With not much food, money, or supervision we were left to our own devices. That's never a good thing for abandoned children of parents who didn't care. Especially, in a city of sin! My sister and I used to go on all kinds of journeys. We had more time than we knew what to do with. We would sneak around the town poking our heads in through secret passage ways seeing things children shouldn't see. We saw old men getting their jollies off with the prostitutes. Local drunkards down at the bar passed out in their own vomit. That was just for starters. There was so much more to be seen. Things so peculiar you wouldn't believe. One particular instance comes to mind. This happens to be one Jacque's favorites of my stories. I was about fourteen at the time and my sister sixteen. One evening my father came home especially late. As usual he was quit drunk. After a short search and some yelling he discovered that my mother was nowhere to be found. Apparently my father was especially aroused on this night. He must have just returned from a burlesque show.

They are actually rather common in New Orleans even to this day. He instantly knew where to go. My sister and I felt like this was something worth following him for. We snuck out just a moment after he left and followed behind him in the shadows so he wouldn't see us. My father headed to the downtown area of the city he then turned down an ally and went through a side door. The door was plain no markings to identify where it led. My sister and I hesitated at first but then proceeded to open the door. Inside it was dark we could barely see anything. It was just a little room with a stairwell leading down. We cautiously made our way down the stairs. Hoping no one would spot us. We finally reached the bottom and it opened up into a large room that was decorated very modern and sophisticated. The room was full of people many clad in unusual clothing. They were covered in leather all black slick and deceptive. Nobody even appeared to notice we where there. Still we proceeded with caution. I didn't understand it then, but now I surely know that it was a bondage club. My sister and I discretely searched around the room until we spotted our parents at a table near the middle of club. They were shouting at one another and then marched off towards the back. We followed them to see where they headed. They went through a door at the back, which we also slipped through. This new room was filled with all kinds of curious contraptions. There were several people using them.

Of course we weren't as put off by this as any normal child would be. We had already seen so much that it was actually interesting to us a new experience. Our parents entered into a chain link cage facility that had a bed, pulley system and some rope. My mother than began to undress my father. I know what your thinking what kind of sick person would sit there and watch his parents undress each other. Let me tell you something. When you live the childhood that I did nothing is to sick and twisted to bare witness too so I thought. My mother then laid my father down on the bed and hooked him into this contraption of pullies and rope. She tied up his hands and then placed a rope around his neck. I don't think I could have been prepared for what was about to happen. My mother undressed her self, and then lowered her body on top of my fathers. They began to have sex wild and passionate. The wilder it became the more the rope around my fathers neck got tighter. I could hear him gasping for air trying to break free from this contraption. My mother wouldn't stop though she kept riding him like a stallion. Eventually, his body went limp and she stopped not to long after that. When my sister realized what had happened she let out a scream. Our mother turned and saw us we then ran out of the club down the street and back home. By the time we reached the house we were both gasping for air we had run so far so fast. From that day on we never saw our mother again. She disappeared into the strange and eerie night. After that my sister took care of me. We no longer had a home but we were used to the streets. When ever I tell this story people call me a liar and say it isn't true, but then they get this gleam in their eye and ask, "Is it?" I tell them I might give you an answer but it's not the one you want to hear.

After Julius's last story I started to wonder if I would ever see the city again. I finally built up enough courage to ask, "Where exactly are we going, shouldn't we turn around and head back?" "Lamont, your worry too much soon enough we will be at our destination." "After all you did say you wanted real, right?" It wasn't but a few moments later Julius turned off the paved road onto a dirt road leading into the bayous of New Orleans. After a short five-minute drive down the road we came to a stop and he shut off the engine. "We going to have to walk from here," he said. I got out of the car and followed Julius. He led me to a path that was lined with rocks. We walked down the path what seemed like forever until finally I noticed a clearing up ahead. This excited me all this build up and I was going to see what it was all about. Julius stepped out into the clearing first and I followed behind him. As I stepped out into the clearing I noticed gravestones sticking out of the ground. I looked over at Julius who had a blank look on his face. What where these gravestones I thought? I then began to read the names on them Pierre Posales and Claire Posales on the first two. "Is this some sort of family gravesite?" Julius remained silent. I continued reading the names on the gravestones Monique the next one read, and then Jacque Le Baptise. "What?" I began to panic I wasn't sure what to make of this. A shadowy figured emerged from the darkness behind the gravestones. It was a woman with long dark hair that hides behind her back. Her face looked full of excitement as if she was expecting me. She spoke, "Right on time as usual brother." A smirk formed on Julius's face for the second time that day. "You know I never was one for wasting time Bridgett," Julius replied. I became even more confused and began to feel light headed. "What's the matter Lamont it doesn't make sense, I would think a man of your stature would be smart enough to figure it out." All I could mutter were a few sounds. I was incapable of making words. Julius let out a little laugh, "let me help you along. These stories I've told you are ghost tales of individuals who bodies once walked this land. They are now only memories re-told through us." "Julius," I said stuttering, what, you killed these people?" "Lamont, Lamont please we prefer the term preserve. Wouldn't you like to be preserved for all eternity to be remembered throughout the ages?" Once Julius finished this sentence he and his sister started towards me. What could I do run. Where would I run too? Everything started to fade to black.

The next thing I remember is waking up in my car in the parking lot of the old bar. After the grogginess started to clear away I looked down at my watch it was 8:45 am. I exited the car and entered the old bar. I looked straight towards the back where Julius was sitting last time. There was no one there. "You looking for somebody," a man from the bar shouted. "Um, I'm not sure what day is it?" "Wednesday, he replied. I once again became confused. What had happened to me? Was it all a dream? "Do you know Julius Posales," I asked the man at the bar. He paused momentarily and then began to speak. "So you're looking for Julius huh. Yeah we get one of you in here every so often. Let me save you some trouble you ain't gonna find him. Julius is like a ghost. Some folks claim they've met him others swear he's not real. Anyways I wouldn't go looking for someone like that it will only get you into trouble." "Why's that," I asked. "Depends on who you ask," the man developed an introspective look on his face and then spoke again. "Some believe he is a demon from hell, others think he is an infamous murderer, while a few even believe he is just a lost little boy looking for home. If I was you I would just go on back home boy." Every time I tell this story people always ask me if it's true. I respond in the only way I can. If you're asking if this story is true I might give you an answer, but its not the one you want to hear!