Post by Stirling on Apr 18, 2007 1:05:57 GMT 1
***Continued From Hotel/Casino (Miami).***
When dealing with ghost, first, you investigate their human history. Find out why they haunt the places they do. What is it that keeps them in limbo? What's their unfinished business they seek? Are they good or evil? Were they murdered or killed accidently? Are they perhaps trapped in some sort of time zone where all they can do is reenact the events before they died over and over again? Time. It stops inevitably for the dead human body. If the spirit remains, it clings to it's history, no going forward. Sometimes, when you dig deep enough to get inside their minds, what you may find might shock you.
"This is the spot. Start digging. " I dropped my bag of tools in the dusty alley way. The shadows of darkness began to descend across the building like a curtain as the sun went down. A strong, eerie feeling passed through my body, making me shiver. The temperature dropped dramatically. My breath came out in foggy puffs. Time was of the essence here. This ghost that haunted the alley was Paul Smith. An escaped metal patient that raped and murdered young women. In 1965 he was supposedly caught and brought to justice but others say when he was caught raping the judges daughter he was beaten until he died and his body was bricked up in this building with out a proper funeral. And the soul was enraged.
The Talamasca had set up cameras and had been studying this ghost for quite some time. Weeks. Months. I wasn't sure. They picked up infra red images from time to time. Small things floating in the air. Loud banging noises and screams. Cats, mice and dogs have been torn to shreds when they entered. The usual stuff. Tiny orbs of light would come from the same place in the brick wall. The place where Paul Smith's body was at. And after their observations, I was elected to clean up the mess. Oh bloody joy.
"Not a very big hole." I explained to Cassandra as the pick I held came crashing into the wall. Grunting with every forceful swing, I plowed the pick again and again through the wall until it busted through. Putting this soul to rest was first on the agenda tonight. Coughing a little at the stench, I waved the dust particles from my face and began to removed loose brick.
"Hand me the cloth sack." I instructed. "By the way, have you come across anything I should know since I was....detained?"
When dealing with ghost, first, you investigate their human history. Find out why they haunt the places they do. What is it that keeps them in limbo? What's their unfinished business they seek? Are they good or evil? Were they murdered or killed accidently? Are they perhaps trapped in some sort of time zone where all they can do is reenact the events before they died over and over again? Time. It stops inevitably for the dead human body. If the spirit remains, it clings to it's history, no going forward. Sometimes, when you dig deep enough to get inside their minds, what you may find might shock you.
"This is the spot. Start digging. " I dropped my bag of tools in the dusty alley way. The shadows of darkness began to descend across the building like a curtain as the sun went down. A strong, eerie feeling passed through my body, making me shiver. The temperature dropped dramatically. My breath came out in foggy puffs. Time was of the essence here. This ghost that haunted the alley was Paul Smith. An escaped metal patient that raped and murdered young women. In 1965 he was supposedly caught and brought to justice but others say when he was caught raping the judges daughter he was beaten until he died and his body was bricked up in this building with out a proper funeral. And the soul was enraged.
The Talamasca had set up cameras and had been studying this ghost for quite some time. Weeks. Months. I wasn't sure. They picked up infra red images from time to time. Small things floating in the air. Loud banging noises and screams. Cats, mice and dogs have been torn to shreds when they entered. The usual stuff. Tiny orbs of light would come from the same place in the brick wall. The place where Paul Smith's body was at. And after their observations, I was elected to clean up the mess. Oh bloody joy.
"Not a very big hole." I explained to Cassandra as the pick I held came crashing into the wall. Grunting with every forceful swing, I plowed the pick again and again through the wall until it busted through. Putting this soul to rest was first on the agenda tonight. Coughing a little at the stench, I waved the dust particles from my face and began to removed loose brick.
"Hand me the cloth sack." I instructed. "By the way, have you come across anything I should know since I was....detained?"