Prologue: One Foot in the Grave

"Hope is the formaldehyde of life." --- A Sin-Eater proverb

Time: 9:15 pm CDT
Location: Carrollton, New Orleans

Situated on Saint Charles Avenue in the historic Carrollton neighborhood of New Orleans, the Guillory House is a beautiful home by most accounts. Architecturally, it’s a center hall cottage – a style of building that appeared in the city during the early 1800s and was popularized by the upper middle class. The house’s basic layout is rectangular and raised about five feet off of the ground, which puts the entire structure at two and a half stories high. It sports a gabled roof, white weatherboard walls, and is enclosed by a wrought-iron fence. The windows are evenly spaced – with two on either side of the front door - and curtained with white lace. A wide-sitting roofed porch with Italianate columns makes up the façade of the building, accessed by a central stair and surrounded by immaculate landscaping. At first glance, the building strikes you as old.

Inside, the home is equally as attractive. Hardwood floors, brass ensconces, and walls of white plaster decorated with family portraiture and Impressionist paintings. The furnishings seem as old as the house itself: ornate 19th century end tables, armoires, bookcases, and salon chairs that lend an air of "southern gothic-ness" to the place. In general, the rooms of the home are symmetrically laid out and accessible by a central hallway. A small glass chandelier in each of the rooms provides soft light. Only the occasional modern contrivance, such a flat screen television or laptop, breaks from the home’s antiquated colonial décor.

Under the guise of paranormal investigators, your krewe was invited to the home of the Guillory family. For almost a year now, the Guillories have been terrorized by events that they claim are supernatural in nature. It began when the family moved in a year ago and got portions of the house remodeled. Individual family members reported strange noises, footsteps coming from empty rooms, and cold spots in which the air temperature was 10 degrees colder than the surroundings. This proceeded into appliances turning on and off seemingly on their own, objects being relocated, and hand prints on the bathroom mirror after a steamy shower. The family initially assumed that these occurrences were simply the sounds of an old house settling, or that there were problems with the house’s wiring.

However, things have ramped up in the past few months. The family has reported briefly seeing shadow people, catching movement from the corner of their eyes, and the constant feeling of being watched. Strange smells, whispers, and mysterious laughter have been growing in frequency, and the walls have occasionally leaked an odorous, opaque gel-like substance that no one appears able to identify. Still, the family had remained mostly in a state or denial or grudging tolerance until the Guillory’s fourteen year old daughter, Samantha, started waking up with inexplicable scratches and bite marks. She will no longer sleep alone in her bedroom.

Currently, you are all meeting with the Guillory family in the parlor of their home. The room is decorated with several plush chairs and love seats, as well as bookcases, rugs, and a mahogany work desk that makes it hard to tell if this is supposed to be a living room, office, or study. Your krewe was referred to the family by one of your contacts in the voodouisant community of New Orleans. From what your contact has explained to you, the family is desperate and needs help. And best of all, they are in a position to offer payment, which isn’t always the case with many of the people helped by your krewe. It’s clear, just from the house alone, that this family has money.

Claudine Guillory and her daughter sit on one of the small couches. Mother and daughter look very much alike: soft features, light auburn hair, and willowy frames. Both are sitting quietly, and Claudine is drinking what appears to be tea. They are dressed in brand name upscale summer dresses. Based on their body language, Claudine and Samantha Guillory seem scared but hopeful, especially Claudine. It’s something that your krewe has seen many times before with victims of hauntings; a fatigued vigilance that develops from frequently living in fear. From the way that Claudine is stroking her daughter’s back, you can tell that she’s more afraid for her daughter than herself.

A stern-looking middle-aged man sits by himself in a nearby armchair. Jérôme Guillory appears as though he just arrived from work. He’s clad in a charcoal gray business suit that indicates some kind of white collar profession. Given the oppressive heat and humidity of Louisiana, no one would normally dress that way unless they had to. Unlike his wife and daughter, the expression of impatience on Jérôme’s face tells you that he isn’t very supportive of bringing your krewe here. It was likely his wife and daughter’s idea. Either he doesn’t belief that the strange events in his home are supernatural, or he is angry over the embarrassment of calling paranormal investigators for help.

You’ve asked to come to the house in the late evening. The krewe and the Guillories have only just made introductions before retreating to the parlor. Claudine does all of the talking. Samantha is quiet; due to fear or shyness, you can’t say. Jérôme sits and studies each of you with a leer of skepticism. He hardly speaks.

"Thank you again for coming." Claudine smiles nervously between sips of tea. She gives you all glances of desperate hope that are painful to see. "We didn't know where else to turn. I was told that you deal with... this kind of problem. You came highly recommended by a woman who used to do the housekeeping here."


If you have Spotify, here's some music to set the mood: Old Scratch's Dead Delta Jukebox

Derek admired the style and design of the house and the fact it was still standing after the test of time. Although not famous enough for everyone to point out its creator it had character he thought as he and the others were ushered in leaving him mostly distracted. He sat with his satchel in his beige linen covered lap his toes wiggling in boat shoes as he scanned the moldings. He hadn't really felt out the man of the house but he did feel a bit jealous and coveted having his wife and daughter. He dismissed the idea when looking at the being next to his chair that opted to stare at the ceiling no doubt Derek figured musing about an ancient timber still supporting the house. If he wanted a family he would have started dating again... that just seemed too difficult and awkward still.

With a short inhale he adjusted the rolled up sleeves of his white linen shirt and leaned forward, "Could you retell us in your own words what has transpired over time again?" he requested looking to the lady and young miss of the house. Derek completely ignored The Driftwood King who had opted to make himself at home spreading out into a small field of wooden bits on the floor.

Derek listens to the first hand explaination until it devolves into quietly showing proof.

Either they don't want to say or they can't otherwise this is all real... He thought a slight frown on his face. He looked at the girl with slight pity.

This was the work of so done unseen and unheard... these wounds were there showing something people often have a hard time with... existence.

"If you're daughter is sick, as you've stated, you can probably dismiss the scratches in your mind as self induced I guess... but what of the bite marks? Lets forget for a few moments you're basically saying you don't believe your daughter or wife and that they're lying for whatever reason and that doesn't actually hurt them because well you're you why should you really care right.

You've stated you've lived here all your life in New Orleans and you talk of money... well since you're a local man of means you're fixing the problem right? Because drugging with medications for delusions so your daughter 'forgets' the issue has worked so far right? You're also a father not just some suit that has to look good and do his job, forget your foolish ignorant prideful façade and actually help your family you damn fool... I know first hand what it's like to be left alone and being a local and having money to attempt to throw at problems doesn't fix the issue. So lets fix the issue together while you still have a family. Or are you going to have another outburst and throw a fit because now your feelings are hurt? I honestly don't care if you're angry or even embarrassed personally. I'm disappointed in you actually being a father because you should know by now it's more than just providing for them." Derek finally states venomously from his chair, he slowly gets up looking at the man of the house putting down his bag.

"Look at your daughter Mr. Guillory, not glance and start thinking about something else more comfortable, actually look. Do you think you're being part of the current problem or the solution right now. I honestly think you need a wake up call... I'd slap you across the face but honestly that's not really my thing."

Go ahead, it’s fine. Each of you are persuading him in your own ways. It should help… unless you decide to take a dramatic failure.

Each of you pushes back against Jérôme's outburst.

Jay offers clarification and understanding, both to Mr. Guillory and Samantha, while Max appeals to the man's sense of reason. Jérôme initially seems poised to verbally lambast all of you, but he holds his tongue and listens. Jay's words, in particular, begin to slowly sink in. As the two Sin-Eaters calmly explain things to him and Samantha, you can see the tension in Mr. Guillory's countenance evaporate ever so slightly. His shoulders relax, and his facial expression shifts from outrage to uncertainty as he considers the arguments made by Jay and Max.

Derek then returns fire with a more forceful and provocative response. Immediately, Jérôme's anger comes back in full force. You watch as his face twists with indignation. He takes a half a step toward Derek, especially when the Sin-Eater mentions the man's "foolish ignorant prideful facade." For a brief few seconds, it seems as though the two men might even come to blows. Mr. Guillory, however, keeps himself in check. Maybe he doesn't want to fight in front of his daughter. Maybe he understands one against three is a bad idea. Whatever the reason, he instead holds Derek's gaze. While clearly unhappy with Derek's accusations, he lets the Sin-Eater finish his tirade.

After Derek is done and Adriana departs from the room, there are several seconds of awkward silence as Mr. Guillory locks eyes with each of you. He's not-so-subtly sizing you all up. Although he's still angry, the anger appears to have subsided in the face of everyone's words and unwillingness to back down. Strangely, Jérôme begins to regard you all a bit differently, like a trial lawyer that just heard an admirable rebuttal. Newfound respect, perhaps... as grudging as it may be.

Finally, Jérôme sighs and crosses his arms in front of himself. He takes a step back and rests his eyes on Samantha for a minute. Looking at his scarred and frightened daughter, Mr. Guillory's resolve falters. He shifts his focus back to your krewe, and his eyes now contain a mixture of skepticism and resignation. "Suppose I choose to believe that this house is haunted and that you can help us..." His tone has the quality of 'I can't believe I'm saying this out loud.' "What do you need from me?"

"Have faith in us trying to help your daughter. Also don`t passive passive aggressively imply your daughter is lying when she's scared and has the courage to ask you for help... It's a Dick Dad move." Derek states before lowering his voice after his first sentence.

Jérôme listens to Jay. Initially, he seems uncertain how to feel about taking directions from someone half his age, but he eventually gives Jay a look of approval. "You handle yourself well for someone so young." It's the first nice thing the man has said all evening. "House and property records won't be an issue. In fact, my wife has her copies if you wish to go through them. She did her own research at the Parish Assessor's Office."

At Derek's suggestion, Jérôme narrows his eyes but deigns not to respond. There is a rise in tension for a few seconds, but the tension quickly passes when Claudine enters the room.

At Max's request, Claudine nods. "Of course. Let me show you around." She looks to her daughter. "Samantha, can you help me show our guests where we sometimes hear and see things?" Samantha stands up and moves to her mother's side.

Meanwhile, Jérôme walks to the mahogany desk at the front of the room and pulls back the wheeled leather office chair. He opens a drawer and withdraws a short stack of large folded documentation. He puts the papers down onto the desk and motions to them. "Property records for the house, specifically deeds, easements, tax assessments, previous sales, and census records, as well as blueprints of the house itself and plats of the land plot. We have records all the way back to the Civil War."

"I look into the blueprints and look for negative space." Derek states sidestepping and moving to the documents and starts calculating.

For anyone who wants to come, Claudine and Samantha embark on a walk-through of the home. The parlor leads into a foyer, which connects to a central hallway, The hallway is a major artery that provides access to all the first floor rooms of the house. A stairway in the foyer leads up to the second floor.

The hallway is tastefully decorated with a long rug, entry tables holding vases of flowers, and modest amounts of artwork or photographs on the walls. The Guillorys lead you down the hall, and, one by one, take you into the various rooms. Each time it's the same: Claudine opens the door, turns on the light, and leads you all inside. She then explains what she has experienced, with some additional input from Samantha. The rooms have similar furnishings and spacious layouts. Two are guest rooms. Another is a family room. A fourth is a large bathroom of white tiles and brass faucets. At a cursory glance, everything appears fairly standard. Nothing about the rooms invites any immediate insights into the haunting.

Most of what Claudine tells you is a reiteration of what you've already heard. Claudine goes through a list of her family's experiences in each room. She talks about seeing a shadow person in one area, or hearing someone say her name at another. Sometimes it's sudden cold spots, and other times mother and daughter simply have the feeling of being watched. Objects (such as car keys or a cell phone) occasionally disappear only to be discovered in other parts of the house. Claudine indicates that she thinks the activity is a sign that the ghost doesn't want them here, but Samantha says she thinks it's about getting attention. When asked to elaborate on why she feels this way, she replies that she doesn't think she can. It's intuition.

So far, none of you have seen any ghosts with your own eyes yet. That isn't unusual, since the dead will often hide when they know a Sin-Eater is in the vicinity. It means your krewe may have to track them down or flush them out. Many will also hide themselves from geists, for geists can often prove to be frightening even to their fellow ghosts.

You eventually make your way to the kitchen located at the rear of the house. It's a visually appealing area that you can tell has been professionally designed and recently renovated; like stepping into the picture of a kitchen from a home and garden magazine. It's a spacious room of marble countertops, hand-dyed floor tiles, stainless steel appliances, and light fixtures that resemble old New Orleans streetlamps. An island with matching stools is situated at the center of the room. Two doors open into a separate pantry and laundry room, and a third leads to the house's backyard. It's not difficult to imagine that this kitchen cost a small fortune to complete.

Aside from its expensive decor, something else stands out about the kitchen. Even if none of you initially notice it, your geists react to its presence by glancing up at it. Hanging on the lintel of the kitchen doorway is what appears to be a tiny cloth bag about the size of a watch. It's held to the lintel by a thumbtack. Given the background of your krewe, you all immediately recognize the object as a voodoo talisman - or something that looks very similar to one.

"Adriana! Yes, of course," Max replies graciously. His expression suggests that he is glad to see that she is ok. "I was hoping that you would."

He extends his hand to allow Adriana to walk ahead of him with Mrs. Guillory and Samantha. The Forgotten falls in next to him and they follow behind the ladies as their hostess shows them the house.

As they enter the kitchen, the Forgotten ducks down to rush ahead into the room as if he is trying to keep as much distance as possible between himself and the talisman that hangs over the doorway.

Distracted Derek wonders around the table looking at the blueprints and opts to check the property paperwork as well since it's right there.

Adriana

With Claudine's permission, you take down the gris-gris and untie the top of it, revealing its contents. As with most such charms, the bag contains an eclectic mixture of ingredients. In this case, there are dried herbs, small stones, several chicken bones, a vial of black powder, and a folded piece of paper with a verver (Voodoo design) drawn on it.

The herbs, which you recognize as mandrake and mistletoe, are for protection from evil spirits. The black onyx stones, as well as the chicken bones, are for protection of the household. And the vial, which you believe holds black salt, also offers protection. The verver is the symbol of Damballah; to call his attention to the home and watch over it.

Everything indicates a protective gris-gris, specifically from "negative energies." Nothing suspicious. Still, this talisman would've likely done little to help the family. The creator probably lacked the expertise to give it mystical "oomph." It was the right idea, just nowhere near strong enough to repel real ghosts. Also wouldn't have been strong enough to keep them trapped, either.

Derek

You spend a good amount of time toiling over the various maps and documents provided by Mr. Guillory. Experience has taught that it's easy to miss things on municipal property records, which can be densely packed with information. Older documents from the turn of the 20th century can also prove to be messy and illegible. Consequently, you are careful to go over the paperwork slowly and with a fine toothed comb. As you pour through the records, you can hear the rest of the krewe walking the house, and the muffled sounds of Claudine speaking.

Claudine was correct when she said that there were no deaths on the property. You, too, find no indication of deaths in the paperwork. Not that that means anything. There may have been deaths on the property that weren't officially recorded. Likewise, ghosts don't need to die at a specific location in order to haunt it. Anchors are about emotional attachment. One of the house's previous owners could have still become Anchored to the house, even if he or she passed away nowhere near it.

Property deeds indicate a fair share of owners before the Guillory family. The house is old and has been around since the late 1800s. The line of owners stretches back to 1874. The only time that the house stood empty was a fourteen year period between Hurricane Katrina and the day the Guillories moved in.

No record of a burial site on the land parcel prior to the house's construction. Strangely, there are no reports about spooky or odd phenomena: no historical records, no police records, no news reports. It seems like the paranormal activity only began after the Guillories purchased the home. No indication that prior occupants of the house had any paranormal experiences. Then again, it could simply be that the Guillories weren't thorough enough in their research and missed a few things.

One thing that does stick out, however, are several environmental reports dating back to the 1960s. Over the decades, various occupants of the house have complained to the parish government about the discovery of a mysterious substance leaking from the walls. Attempts to identify the substance repeatedly ended in failure, as samples would inevitably dissipate into nothing. Reports described the material as an opaque semi-liquid with a gel-like consistency, and with a foul odor reminiscent of rotting fish or decaying matter. After numerous examinations, the parish determined that the substance was not harmful to the environment or the occupants, and so nothing was done, but home owners continued submitting complaints to the city every few years.

As a Sin-Eater, you know this perfectly fits the description of plasm. You also know that plasm can be generated several ways. Sin-Eaters can produce it. Ghosts leave it behind when they manifest. And it occurs naturally at Cenotes (places with a connection to the Underworld). Cenotes are also commonly known as "low places" since they tend to be found in areas of low elevation, such as caves, subway tunnels, and basements. More than half of New Orleans sits below sea level. Some Sin-Eaters hypothesize that this might be why the city has such an infestation of ghosts - N'awlins is, itself, a massive low place.

Furthermore, you notice something else when examining the home's blueprints. You easily slip back into architect mode as you study the house's most recent floor plans. Those indicate a standard center hall cottage with all renovations included. However, you also find an old blueprint from before the renovations by the Guillories. This print is mostly the same but with one major difference. It appears that the kitchen used to have a trap door in the floor of the pantry room. The door no longer exists in the newer blueprints. Basements are rare in New Orleans, and you know that the house sits on raised piers about five feet high. Many of the houses in the Carrollton neighborhood have them; a countermeasure against minor flooding.

Derek sorts his papers about frowning as he works before standing up and stretching and heads to the kitchen to check the area with the new and old blueprints for the spot he's now curious about.

Lets see how difficult it would be to dig this up. Derek thinks to himself walking with purpose now.

"Did the contractor's leave a sledgehammer and/or crowbar around? Also did you know about the trapdoor to a tunnel or basement in the kitchen right here?" Derek asks tapping the accused area with his foot.

"If a house sits on anti-flood pillars why have a basement? What happens usually to it in a flood? Who do you know that has a basement in New Orleans in their house? Also it's not on the most current blueprints so it's either been overlooked or hidden purposely I figure. I mean it's possible to check it out from outside but I've no idea how big it is under the trapdoor or if there's an exterior exit... if so someone would have noticed it by now wouldn't they? Plus if we try and use an excavator to dig out the possible area we'd have to look so we don't collapse the house if we don't know the dimentions it's possibly a lot of digging and possibly dropping the house. This way I think is quicker and safer." Derek states back not seeing the problem.

"Works for me I figure we should check just in case."

Jay and Derek

Mr. Guillory grudgingly escorts Derek through the rear door of the kitchen. As you step outside into the muggy nighttime air of New Orleans, several wall-mounted motion sensor lights bring sudden illumination. The lights are bright enough to make you wince slightly until your eyes adjust.

The walled backyard of the Guillory House is not terribly big, but in a congested residential neighborhood such as Carrollton, they rarely are. You find yourself standing on a brick patio furnished with black iron cafe tables and chairs. Surrounding you are trestles of flowering vines and plant beds of camellias, rose bushes, magnolias, irises, and other lush greenery. Enclosing the backyard is a high rock wall overgrown with hanging ivy and Spanish moss. Passed the wall, you see the upper floors of the adjacent houses. Somewhere, perhaps from a neighbor's yard, you hear the soft sound of bubbling water.

Mr. Guillory gestures to a small storage shed set in one of the back corners of the yard. When you open the shed door, you are struck by the smell of cut grass and gasoline. The light inside the galvanized metal shed is dim, but it's enough to get the job done. Aside from a lawnmower, bags of birdfeed, cans of paint, empty pots, lawn furniture, and other assorted supplies, you locate a plethora of tools. They are mostly of the gardening variety: shovels, trimmers, spades, rakes, etc., as well as various power tools and construction tools. You are quickly able to acquire the necessary shovels.

Derek and Jérôme meet up with Jay at the west side of the house. Almost the entire perimeter of the home is lined with beds of shrubs and flowers, but you are able to locate a gap in the plant bed that's large enough to accommodate your digging. Beyond the decorative foliage lining the house's base, you see the support pillars that raise the house up. They are stubby brick piers that are spaced every six feet and elevate the house about half a story above the ground. It's a fairly common design feature in French Creole architecture. In the five-foot high space between the ground and the floor of the house, there is a wall of packed dirt.

The dirt is uneven in many spots. Some of it is spilling out from under the house. The more you look at the dirt, the less it seems to have been placed there purposely. Rather, it looks like soil, silt, clay, and mud that has accumulated from over a century of flood water deposits. The dirt even has the same orange-brown color as the sediment of the muddy Mississippi - a color most New Orleanians know well.

Jay performs his ritual with the tobacco and sage. Jérôme observes closely but says nothing. Both of you grab shovels and begin to dig. You scoop out the dirt and heft it into a pile behind you. Each of you can feel Jérôme watching for a moment. Then, surprisingly, Mr. Guillory removes his jacket and places it onto a nearby bush. He unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and works the sleeves down to his elbows. He then grabs a shovel for himself and proceeds to join in.

Jay and DerekAll of you are digging out the dirt from beneath the house. Fortunately, the dirt is not very tightly packed. It's loose enough to make the work move quickly. Still, all of you start perspiring heavily within minutes of digging. In late September, the average temperature in New Orleans is in the mid 80°F with the humidity over 70%. The heat and humidity of Louisiana, even at nighttime in early Autumn, is no joke.

After ten minutes of digging, you all take a short break, though Jay doesn't seem very affected by the heat and continues to work unabated. Jérôme is dripping with sweat; his shirt is soaked through at the back and the pits. He wipes his forehead with his arm, plants his shovel into the ground, and leans on the handle. A pile of excavated dirt is slowly building as Jay keeps digging.

Derek

As you take a short breather from digging, you suddenly catch some movement in the corner of your eye. Upon looking, you witness a figure standing a small distance from the three of you. The figure is just beyond the edge of the light from Jay's lantern.

From your vantage point, the figure should be a dark silhouette. Some part of your brain instinctively understands this, given that the backyard behind the figure is heavily illuminated by patio lights. Yet the illumination seems to pass through the figure, creating the appearance of a mirage rather than a dark profile. As the stranger steps forward and enters the lantern light, you see a sharply dressed man. An older black man, perhaps in his sixties, with closely cropped hair and an odd, shuffling walk. He's clad in a three-piece plaid suit, striped tie, and nice shoes, but something about the cut of the outfit strikes you as... outdated. The fashion of decades past. In fact, everything about the gentleman appears faded. His colors are washed out and muted, as though someone turned the saturation very low on a photo.

The figure has a sickly, unhealthy pallor. Nervously, he clutches a fedora at chest level with both hands. He noticeably casts no shadow.

"You... have... to stop," he laboriously says. His voice sounds hollow, like he's speaking through a tunnel. It's more the echo of a voice than a voice itself. "Stop... or she will come."

Too busy digging to see the figure at first, Jay hears the recognizable strained timbre of the figure's voice as it reaches across Twilight. Both Sin-Eaters instantly understand what they're perceiving. Jérôme is oblivious to the ghost's presence.

Adriana and Max

Claudine nods to Max and returns to the kitchen. She grabs a bag of ground coffee from Cafe Du Monde and starts brewing a pot. The room quickly fills with the smell of chicory and roasted coffee beans. Meanwhile, Samantha goes to the kitchen and takes a seat on one of the stools at the island. From outside, all of you can hear the faint scraping of shovels hitting dirt as Jay, Derek, and Jérôme begin their work.

"What's a krewe?" asks Samantha, finally. She looks at Adriana and Max. "You mean like Mardi Gras krewes?"

"Okay lets stop digging real quick. If your house foundation shifts, well I've already seen you agitated lets makes sure you don't have a very good reason to start to be angry." Derek states looking around trying to get a a bigger picture of the area they've dug and the house.

"I just have to figure out," he begins looking at the faded one, "Why it would come here now." he states looking back at the house putting his hands up.

Jay and Derek

The ghost stares at both Sin-Eaters. He then glances warily at the Driftwood King and the Long Man and seems reluctant to approach. Gradually, however, the dead man begins shuffling into the lantern light while keeping his sunken eyes squarely on the geists. As he gets closer to Derek, you notice the dead man's Corpus changing. His skin loses its unhealthy pallor. His eyes seem less sunken, and his clothes regain their color and saturation. The etherealness of his body is replaced by the semblance of solidity and life. At ten feet away, bathed in Derek's liminal aura, he looks almost no different than a living person.

The dead man stops and shifts his gaze back to the Sin-Eaters. He's pays no attention to Mr. Guillory. "The Red Lady. If y'all don't stop that diggin', she'll come. Then there'll be hell ta pay." The ghost's voice no longer has a hollow quality to it. It sounds normal; the voice of an older man with a thick Louisiana drawl. You even smell a hint of cigar smoke and aftershave.

At Derek's words, Jérôme looks at the Sin-Eater with confusion. He follows Derek's gaze, sees nothing, and looks back at him. "You speaking to me?" he says.

"Well I was talking to you, but well 'someone here' is warning us that if we keep digging that way a Lady in Red will come and she'll likely be more aggressive than she has been in the past. I figure your daughter would appreciate us not making that happen." Derek flatout admits to the man.

"Now that you've regained a bit of yourself, did you want to elaborate and do you need anything?" Derek states fully turning to the warning individual.

Jay and Derek

The ghost of the old man looks down at himself for a moment. He seems fascinated by the effect of the liminal aura on his Corpus. He then looks up as Jay speaks. "This be a warnin'. None of us serve the Red Lady. At least not by choice," he says. "Y'all need to go. You'll only make things worse for the folks livin' here."

The dead man responds to Derek's question. "I already said too much." He glances around worriedly. "She could be watchin'."

Jérôme is still leaning on his shovel. From his perspective, he's observing both of you talking to thin air. His expression is hard to read, though it seems like he's trying to gauge if this is some sort of act that you've both rehearsed for his benefit.

"Also, since you're humoring us, if you have any questions for him about the house or the area I don't mind relaying the question." Derek adds thankful for the break.

Glad I didn't get into a fight... after slapping him in the face I'd be out of gas quicker then him... that's surprising... I need to work out more probably. Derek thinks to himself.

"Well you two have fun at church? Which diocese I wonder?" Derek states aloud at Max, "That's if the church and cemetery were rebuilt after Katrina we might have to look at surveyor maps and the flow of water to guestimate a point of origin that may not be around any more... " he addresses SixKiller's comment.

Derek busies himself with the mental math of when the guy may have been from when he was alive.

Derek gives a shrug about to remind him this isn't the one taking bites out of his daughter when the man gives up some information.

"I'll ask if he comes back around he seems to have gone slack looking for his wife and son, who are likely also dead but he seems to have thoughts he's still alive. He's warned us to stop digging to not rile up the Red Lady who's been attacking your daughter. I guess she's one of the few she is seeing that have migrated here via their washed away body caught under your property...Carrolton Cemetery No. 1 you said?" Derek comments pulling out his phone trying to find the cemetery and who would have records of the bodies in the cemetery or the bodies missing from there.

Adriana

After Max rushes from the kitchen, Claudine moves to one of the windows and looks out. While none of the kitchen windows directly overlook the gentlemen outside, she can get close enough to see the light of Jay's lantern, and she can see Max speaking to someone.

"What could they possibly be doing?" she says.

As she continues watching out the window, Samantha suddenly reaches out and grabs Adriana's hand. The teenager's face is pale. "I have a bad feeling," she whispers to the Sin-Eater.

"Huh, if the other ghosts leave first she won't have them to feed on until they're weak and have nothing left then she'll be looking for your daughter... Actually he says they've been trying to get people to move out on account of what has happened to your daughter..." Derek states his voice trailing off, "Shit we just fattened him up to feed her didn't we..." Derek states with a groan looking at Fields apologetically.

Derek

You do some quick research on your phone, and you find a website for Carrollton Cemetery No. 1. The site includes a helpful registry of graves that is searchable by name. Sure enough, when you search for "William Fields Sr," you find a matching entry. It states that the individual was interred on May 18th, 1961. There is an attached picture and obituary, which indicates a death due to stroke. It also states that he was survived by Phyllis Fields (his wife) and William Fields Junior (his son). Although grainy, the black and white photo definitely depicts the ghost standing in front of you.

You confirm that William Fields is correct. He was laid to rest in the cemetery down the street. However, the site gives no information about the current condition of the cemetery graves, or what other bodies might be missing.

Derek quietly says Oh and texts the last member of the Krewe still inside.

"Hello from outside, we're talking to someone who got washed over from the cemetery, nice fellow, family man, in the area a little while back from Katrina so good news we know who most off the people are possibly from, cemetery doesn't know the bodies are likely washed under this house. Bad new the Red Lady is probably not a ghost since she feeds on these despondent few and the young lady of the house."

Max

Mr. Guillory gives you a quizzical look. Although he seems to want to debate the suggestion, he thinks better of it and places his shovel down. "I need to check on my wife and daughter, anyway," he says curtly. He grabs his suit jacket from the bush and marches back inside.

Though you've employed the Shroud before, it remains a sobering experience each time you use it. Upon activation, you are sheathed in your geist's plasmic body. The Forgotten draws you across the barrier between life and death, and into the frequency of Twilight. For the briefest of seconds you feel weightless, and then nothing. You are immediately aware that you feel… nothing. Hunger. Thirst. Fatigue. Your body is no longer registering physical sensations. If you gave yourself a moment to process it, the sudden lack of such input would undoubtedly be unsettling.

While Sin-Eaters have their toes perpetually dipped into Twilight, it's an entirely separate thing to be fully immersed in the state as you are now. Everything looks different. Faded. The colors around you are muted and washed out. Dark hues have shifted to gray tones, and bright hues have dropped their saturation. Even light itself, whether moon light or patio lights, have less brightness to them like they're pouring through an opaque filter. Sounds aren't any better. All the noises around you are muffled as though you're hearing them underwater. This is how it feels to be a ghost.

Only the other members of your krewe, the Sin-Eaters, appear immune to this effect. None of them are muted, but rather, beacons of life. Their liminal auras put them in stark, crisp contrast to everything else. If the world in Twilight is standard definition, the Bound are 4K picture quality.

With little time to spare, you launch yourself into the dirt wall beneath the house. There is no resistance; it's like stepping through smoke or mist. All it takes is a few foot steps to get where you want to go. You pass through dirt, mud, rocks, and roots, and enter a small hollow within the detritus packed beneath the house. The area is a miniscule space about five feet high and no more than a few feet across. Although it would be pitch black in here for the eyes of the living, you perceive blackness (and everything in it) in shades of gray. Piled together at the bottom of the hollow are the remains of six people. The bodies have long decomposed into skeletons, but still clad in their burial garments. They have been contorted and hunched together in order to fit completely into the hollow. A quick glance is all you need to see that these bodies didn't end up this way simply by floating here. Someone carefully deposited them in here.

Directly above you are the joists and baseboards that comprise the bottom floor of the Guillory's home. At various spots, a semi-clear viscous jelly is dripping from the support beats, almost like the wood is sweating. It's Plasm, which tends to collect at cenotes. And where there's a cenote, there's very often an Avernian Gate. Though you have no way of seeing a gate while it's closed, your geist feels it. Some kind of passage way exists here under the house.

"Could she be like us but bad morals?"

"Oh I don't mean a Sin Eater... I mean she has a foot on both sides."

One of the newly emergent ghosts steps forward. Bathed in the liminal auras of the krewe, her appearance grows more vibrant. She takes on color and crispness, but so do the wounds on her Corpus. Chunks of flesh are missing from her left cheek and lips with only bloody flaps of ripped skin in their place. Her gums and teeth are exposed in a sort of rictus grin. She's young and dressed like a hiker.

"She carries a mask..." says the woman. Missing part of her face makes her voice sound slurred. "When she puts it on, she changes."

That's when all of you notice the flickering of lights coming from the inside of the kitchen. The patio lights also gutter and come back on. Even the screen of Derek's phone glitches for a few seconds.

Adriana

Mr. Guillory walks into the kitchen from the backyard. He heads to the sink and starts washing his hands. Claudine looks to him. "What's happening outside? Did you find anything?" she asks her husband.

Jérôme shrugs. "Just nonsense. They're having conversations with invisible people."

Claudine furrows her brows but doesn't respond. She watches from the window for another minute before moving away and grabbing the coffee pot.

"Coffee?" she asks, as she tilts the coffee pot toward your mug. In that instant, the kitchen lights flicker slightly.

Drying his hands, Jérôme glances at the ceiling light fixtures and frowns. "Not again," he mutters. The lights flicker a second time, and Mr. Guillory shakes his head. "The electrical is on the fritz again." Claudine also looks at the lights but with a wholly different expression. One of dread.

Samantha's hand tightens around yours. The girl looks pale.

The gathered ghosts noticeably tense up when the lights begin flickering. All of them look toward the space beneath the house. Your geists also seem to sense something amiss and shift their attention to the same location. An active Avernian gate usually siphons Essence from nearby ghosts, which makes it easy for the dead to feel when one has opened.

Almost immediately after the lights in the kitchen flicker, the ghosts themselves also flicker slightly, disappearing and reappearing for split seconds at a time. It's like watching holographic projections that are glitching.

Several of the shades begin to look panicked, but Jay's question keeps the attention of a few. William Fields Sr. strains to think of something. He snaps his fingers as though on the verge of remembering a snippet of information. "Uh... I... I know there's... I know there's somethin' but my mind is too hazy..."

The woman with the missing face speaks up. "Green!" she exclaims, urgently. "I've seen her destroy green colored things in the house, or steal them. Anytime the family has something green in the house, she breaks it or takes it. But I've never seen the color actually hurt her."

"That's right!" says William. "She ain't fond of that color. It's the opposite of red on the color wheel. I remember that much from school."

Although your krewe's experience with Reapers is limited, every Sin-Eaters understands some basics. As Rank 3 ghosts, Reapers tend to possess obscure banes and bans. While the color green is perhaps a good start, you also know that it's too common for the color alone to be a weakness. Furthermore, you know that Reapers without their death masks are no more powerful than any other Rank 2 ghost. It's not until they don their masks that they gain a Rank and transform into full-on Reapers. As with all Rank 3 ghosts, Reapers (as well as geists) can exist in the Material World without Anchors and don't struggle with Essence Bleed. They can also travel in and out of the Underworld with ease.

If Ruby is a Reaper, it explains how she can come and go from the Guillory's home. She doesn't need to worry about staying close to an Anchor.

As Max rushes into the kitchen, Jérôme and Claudine both turn to look at him. Mr. Guillory raises an eyebrow. "What's wrong," he asks.

Very suddenly, the room starts to go cold. The temperature in the kitchen rapidly drops by a dramatic degree, as though someone just threw open the door of a large walk-in freezer. Everyone's breath becomes visible as small misty clouds of condensed moisture. Claudine hugs her arms from the abrupt chill.

"What the hell..." exclaims Jérôme watching his own breath. He looks at his wife. "Shouldn't be this cold in here. It's over 80 degrees outside. Did someone crank the AC?"

The heads of Adriana's geist stare down at the tiled floor in expectation of something. Fearfully, Samantha gets up and positions herself behind Adriana. Several appliances in the room begin turning on and off. The coffee machine percolates for several seconds and then suddenly stops. A radio in the corner spontaneously emits the sound of fluctuating music as stations quickly change. The ice maker in the refrigerator activates, rumbles, and spews dozens of cubes of ice onto the kitchen floor.

Claudine gasps and clasps a hand over her own mouth.

Almost as suddenly as they started, the various appliances cease their spontaneous activity. The kitchen is now deathly quiet except for the sounds of everyone breathing.

This is when you see it. A form starts to emerge from the floor; rising through the tiles as though riding atop a slow moving elevator. The newcomer's Corpus depicts a Caucasian woman, once in her thirties perhaps, and marked by a slim build, aquiline nose, and a head of straight hair reaching down to the small of her back. Her clothing is several centuries out of fashion: a ruffled muslin gown with wrist-length sleeves, a sash at the waist, and a caraco jacket worn open at the front. It vaguely brings to mind the styles of colonial era New Orleans. Were it not for her menacing air, she looks like she could have stepped off the set of a period drama.

Most notable of all, however, is that her entire Corpus is a deep vermillion hue. She's not painted red or covered in blood. Rather, it's as though someone turned the color tint on the television as far to red as possible. In keeping with her name, everything about the Red Lady - her skin, her clothes, her eyes - is literal crimson of varying shades. Obviously, "red" is not a figure of speech in her case. Only her hair retains a strong contrast from the rest of her form. You can tell that, in life, her hair must have been very dark, indeed.

Claudine and Jérôme are oblivious to the Red Lady's presence, but Samantha definitely seems to sense her. She takes a few quick glances from behind Adriana.

The woman's bearing is strange; a quiet confidence that isn't often seen among the desperate, beaten-down legions of the dead. "O' Eaters of Sin? Perchance there is a reason you have trespassed into my abode, pray tell?"

Her voice is pleasant but forceful. She speaks with the self-assuredness of a being with several centuries of experience. Slowly, she shifts her gaze around the room and makes eye contact with each of the Bound. Her eyeballs have pupils but no irises; as hard as blood red marbles. "T'would behoove you to answer me, promptly."

She clearly notices your geists, but if she is concerned, the dead woman doesn't show it. Unlike a majority of ghosts, the Red Lady seems largely unperturbed by the presence of your Other Halves.