Bleach de a lá Fleur

Mission I: This Time on: Damn Nature, You Scary!

Mission Notes

Location: decrepit Cemetery - Split trees, worn gate, busted brick

Monday afternoon, after a long day of school. Not like either of us really want to be doing this on a Monday, let alone the first day back after summer break.

Number one ghost hotspot; although, every cemetery must be the number one ghost hotspot.

Crazy things happen in New Orleans, but even crazier things happen in a New Orleans Cemetery.

Did I mention a cemetery?

98 Degrees, no clouds, no wind; humid, hot, and absolute discomfort.

Locals complaining about oddities and things going missing. What kind of things do ghosts have anyway?

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August 20, 2018

2:15:45 PM

Saint Paul Cemetery

New Orleans, Louisiana

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Cemeteries were strange places full of many different odd emotions. There was something just as magical about a cemetery as it was forlorn. An area full of such wealth and history of the individuals that rest there were often eventually forgotten and unkempt. The Saint Paul cemetery was no different with it's peeling tombstones and cracked brick. The cemetery was not new, but it was not old. A zone coddled by an abundance of trees, grass, and flowers; the cemetery was well-hidden, and to most, it was forgotten. Moss grew on aging trees and leaves crunched beneath their feet. The gate depicting what name the cemetery used to have was broken, barely hanging onto the wrought iron fence. It was clear that time was surely a factor as the weathered down, eroded iron was broken towards the bottom, allowing anyone a grand entrance. It was the type of place that could be seen in movies where teens dared one another to enter and prove of its haunting.

This cemetery had seen a lot of history, and the two now entering it knew they were not the first. The taller of the two almost felt bad for interrupting the peace, but as one part of the rusted iron pole went down, so did her guilt. The sticky humidity had them standing slightly apart as if that would cool them down. As they walked through the sorry excuse for a gate, sunlight streaming through the thick canopies of leaves blinded them minutely, their gazes scanning left and right. No movement was spotted, though they continued to scrutinize the area. Cracked, moss-covered tombstones with hardly discernible inscriptions were laid in straight rows. Old vases of rotted flowers sat beneath a random few, reminiscent of an Edgar Allan Poe poem. While the newer tombstones sat out like a sore thumb, showing off their readable inscriptions, but still weather-worm from the passing seasons and years.

Different from the fresh air right outside the cemetery gates, walking in has the two newcomers reeling from the smell, a hacking cough coming from both as they continued. The shorter one coughs once again, trying to wave away the smell. "First, it's so hot and humid, then we walk right into someone's cloud of ass," She pushes her hair back once again, a gruff groan flinging itself out of her mouth. "First week of school and we're already at the cemetery. Fun ."

"I know you hate these types of things," Her taller companion speaks up, a slight strain in her voice, "But this is just how things have to be sometimes. I mean, I could do without the smell, but your hair always frizzes in anything higher than 60 degrees and we don't do low temps in New Orleans, or did you forget that?"