Tatum shivered with a trembling sigh as she set up her digital tape recorder on the dinky little bench of the park's pretty much abandoned playground. Ever since she first was brought to Demaitre by her adoptive father, the young woman had always heard stories of this playground being extremely haunted. As the story goes, a little girl and her twin brother were both slaughtered here by some crazy yuppie guy who had apparently lost it after getting fired from his CEO job. This was in fact the first time Tatum had ever visited here, and she was already getting a very eerie vibe from it. It just felt like the whole playground was encircled by this black bubble or something, like there were walls all around it. But despite all of this, the brunette young woman did not flee. Oh, no! This place was a paranormal hotspot! Tatum knew she could get awesome evidence and pictures here!
"Is there anybody here that would like to speak with us here tonight?" Tatum asked in a soft, kind voice as she pressed the record button. Once that deed was done, she then moved to fetch her beloved Camel camera from her seemingly bottomless self-made purse. Even though she was here mainly for photography, Tatum was also here to practice her skills in E.V.P. recordings. Allegedly, E.V.P., or Electronic Voice Phenomenon, is an occurrence where voices of the dead are recorded via a digital voice recorder, only heard when the recording is played back later on. The nineteen-year-old Russian had a string of luck in this practice, and had just recorded her second E.V.P. at an abandoned apartment complex.
With the upmost care, Tatum removed her Camel's camera lens. She gracefully brought it up to eye level, peering through the viewer as she began to take shot after shot with flash. "Are you the two children who were murdered here? Can you tell me your names?" Tatum went on to ask, although she knew it would be highly unlikely that she would hear any kind of reply right now in present time. It was wise however, to ask these questions, because the dead could in fact hear you, even if you can't hear them.
Damon yawned as he walked through Cedarwood Park, trying to stay awake as he headed home after a long night of drinking. He wasn't actually drunk, that much he was happy about, but he most certainly wasn't completely sober either. He had a decent buzz going and yet was fully cognant, at least enough to notice, as he walked through the dark park, that there was someone else in this place with him.
Yet as he approached this person, a woman, if her voice was anything to go by, he noticed something strange about her. She was talking to thin air, or so it seemed, with a tape recorder around her neck and a camera in her hand. He groaned quietly to himself. Not one of these supernatural hunters. They were irritating people, almost as irritating as the psychics the police ended up having no choice but to use to find his wife's body enough though he asked them not to. His family had always considered it bad luck to ask for help from another fortune teller, even though Damon himself wasn't, his family came from a long line of them, and as it turned out, his parents believed that the police use of a psychic is what led to his wife being discovered as she was.
Clearly this girl was not a psychic but she was similar to one in that she honestly believed in spirits and the lingering dead. He tried to be quiet to avoid being noticed, let alone skewer her recordings, but there was a limit as to how quiet a tall and lanky man of thirty, like himself, could be. He was just glad he could see well enough in the dark to avoid hitting something.
