 I sat on my motorboat, driving quite quickly through the bayou. Long grey moss hung from the trees. The water was a nice shade of green. I'd been out fishing for most of the day. I've lived in Louisiana my whole life and I can honestly say that once you've seen one swamp, you've seen them all. At least that's what I used to think. I drove my little boat into the dock and tied off. It was my mom who first told me. Tommy had gone missing. My little brother. When I say little, he was like 16, I was 24. I can also say that he was a little shithead. He basically spent most of his days fooling around with his friends, getting drunk or high. He went to an unhealthy number of parties and got himself into a lot of trouble over the years. So at first, I wasn't worried. He'll turn up eventually. He probably just got stoned out of his mind and is currently wandering around in the swamp. The day passed. Then two, then three, now I was worried. The police started by interviewing his friends. From those interviews, they found out he wasn't the only one who went missing. Apparently, Tommy and three of his friends had gone off to buy you man shack to go hang out. That was their last known location. The police scoured the swamp, but after a while they gave up the investigation, said there was nothing more they could do. My mother and father were devastated, as was the rest of the family, including me. We had a small family event to celebrate his life and mourn his loss. The kid had some rough spots, but he was still a good kid. I then decided I wouldn't rest until I figured out what happened to him. I refused to just assume he was dead. So my girlfriend, Andra, and my best friend, Michael, left our town on a motorboat and headed out into the bayou. We pulled it on a dry land, it wasn't a big boat, and started to walk around. We searched for any clues that would give us some sort of an idea as to what happened to Tommy. They had some swamp tour stations set up, which I don't know why anyone would pay money to tour a mud pit, but we just decided to head out on our own. The sun was low in the sky, bathing the bayou in an orange light. The cypress trees hung over the swamp, and moss swung from almost every single branch. The terrain was quite muddy and difficult to navigate, and every now and then we had to swim to get through it. Occasionally, we would become waist deep in mud. Luckily, we were wearing some clothes that were made for this type of terrain. We basically just walked from place to place, calling Tommy's name. Then I heard something. It was very faint. It sounded like crying. I believed it was a man, but I couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. By this point, the sun was almost below the horizon, so it was difficult to see. I scanned the bayou, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man with his head and his hands sobbing. But when I looked back, he was gone. I was quite unnerved by this point, so I was a bit relieved when we decided to head back and try again tomorrow. We headed back into the swamp the next day. We started searching through a new section. This part of the swamp was a lot easier to navigate and had way more dry spots. We continued searching for the entire afternoon. Eventually the sun went down, and we were in near total darkness, but we decided not to give up. Hey, do you see that? Asked Andra. See what? I asked. Over there, behind those trees. It was a cemetery. It was surrounded by a gated enclosure. There was only one entrance, and it had a giant sign hanging above it. All it had on the sign was a date, 1915. We entered the cemetery and started to have a look around. All of the graves were just tiny makeshift crosses planted into the ground. We counted about 300 graves. We wandered through, looking at the graves, when I noticed something. There was another grave that was about 100 yards away from the rest. I thought that was odd, so I went and got a better look at it. It was different from the rest, since it was actually a slab of stone instead of a flimsy wooden cross. This is what it said, Julia Brown, 1874 to 1915. I stared at it for a while, in total curiosity. What the hell happened in 1915 that left over 300 people dead? All of a sudden, an old man entered the cemetery. He had pure white hair. He walked very slowly, and didn't even acknowledge that we were there. Um, excuse me, sir, what are you doing out here? Asked Michael. He turned towards him. I am paying my respects to the dead, of course. He said, in a cracked voice, a little late, wouldn't you say? I said, he didn't respond to us, he just sat in front of one of the graves and stared at it. I figured that he probably knew a thing or two about this gravesite, so I thought I'd ask him some questions. Uh, so what's the deal with the sign that says 1915? I asked. He didn't look up from the grave. When he responded, that's when everyone here died. He said, in a matter of fact way. What happened in 1915? Michael asked. Hurricane. A big one swept through New Orleans as well as the surrounding areas. It was awful. I was locked in a house at the time, said the old man. You were there? I said, he didn't respond. I then looked back at the separate grave, Julia Brown. Who is Julia Brown? I asked the old man's head shot up at the sound of her name. He looked at me with an expression of indescribable rage, curse her. She should be burning and writhing in the deepest depths of hell. Don't you ever say her name, said the old man. Then he got up and just walked away into the swamp. We looked at each other in total confusion for a while. Then we decided to head back to town. While there, I decided to do my own research into the Bayou. I was quite unnerved by that place, and I could tell it had a history. I felt maybe it could help me to find my brother. Apparently, before 1915 Bayou Manchak was home to a small community called Frenier. It was a very poor and very close knit community, mainly focused around fishing. But there was some more interesting information about Frenier according to some local legends It was home to a voodoo queen named Julia Brown. She was the faith healer of the town. When someone got sick, they would either have to wait for the train to take them to New Orleans or go to Julia. She had something for just about any ailment you had and was quite important to the town. Allegedly, after her husband died, she became kind of a shut-in. She only stayed in her house and became very judgmental of people. She then started to reveal other powers. She was starting to predict people's deaths. She also started to predict floods that wiped out several other towns. The three of us began our trek into the Bayou yet again. We wandered around in the mud and muck for several hours, and then I stepped on something. It felt very soft. I pulled it up and was disgusted by what I saw. It was a body. It was swollen and blackened, with giant holes in it revealing incredibly fragile bones. It wasn't Tommy or any of his friends. Apparently they never did recover all the bodies from the hurricane of 1915. We just placed it on a dry patch and continued searching. As we walked the Bayou, it became quite dark and gloomy. The sun was still up, but the trees blocked a lot of the light. When I heard it screaming, there was a terror in that voice that I've never heard before. It was continuous. It was clearly female. We ran to where it was coming from and I saw something hanging from a tree. It appeared like just a dark object at first until we got closer. It was the body of a dead woman. It was mostly a skeleton with just a few fragments of rotting flesh clinging to it. It was a white dress on. The screams were coming from the body, but it wasn't moving. Then it stopped. We stared at the body in silence for a while. There wasn't a single other noise besides our breathing in that bayou. Then I heard a splash of water behind us. I looked back and it was the old man. That was Mrs. Bolger. She drowned trying to climb that tree. Poor woman, said the old man. What the hell's going on here? I asked. Well, this bayou has always been a dark place, at least after the hurricane. But it was your brother that stirred up something he shouldn't have, said the old man. I just stared at him for a few seconds and then I asked, what did he do? That wicked woman, evil piece of barely human refuse. Your brother and his friends tried to summon her. They thought it was a joke. She thought otherwise. Where is he? He and his friends are in her cabin out by the old runes of friend year. What did Julia do to this place? I don't understand. That cursed woman after her husband died, she went a little crazy, felt like the whole town was against her. Then one day she sat on her porch and played a song on her guitar. It was called when I die, I'm going to take this whole town with me. Sure enough, when they put that last nail in her coffin, the storm blew through destroyed everything. What is she going to do to my brother? Probably kill him eventually. With that, we ran to the ruins, past the cypress trees and past the cemetery. The sun had set by this point, and it was darkness. We eventually came to the ruins of friend year. It was really just a bunch of wooded boards thrown all over the place, except for one. There was a small little shack that was elevated slightly off the ground. There were lights on the inside. We approached the shack slowly. I tried to listen in, but I didn't hear anything. I counted down from three, and then we busted down the door. The shack had a small fire in the corner with a pot on top of it. Hanging from the ceiling were a number of strange objects. Some were human fingers, a few were tiny skulls, others were cloths with strange inscriptions on them. There were cabinets and shelves filled with bottles of a variety of fluids, and in the far corner were several cages. Inside were my brother and his friends. I ran over to him and asked if he was all right. He didn't respond. None of them did. They just stared off into space as though they were in a trance. I started to search everywhere for a key. I couldn't find it. And then I saw Julia Brown. Her eyes were jet black voids. She wore a long purple and dark green robe. She appeared quite old. Long wrinkles covered her face. I stood up and faced her. I looked right into her dark eyes. Let them go. I said. She just stared at me with a look of calm disapproval. They're just kids. They're no threat to you. But I will be if you don't let them go. I said. She just laughed. A long rough cackle. I felt hopeless. And that was when Michael charged her. He never stood a chance. She placed her hand on his head. And he screamed to this day. His mind never recovered. She then turned towards me and Andra. And then I heard something outside, angry shouts and yelling. I looked out the window. And there they were. The ghost of Frenier, the old man in front. They charged through the door and a few larger men grabbed her and pulled her out the door. She screamed and yelled in rage, but she was outnumbered. I could see some of the ghost growing weaker from her power. They would fall into the ground and moan. I then grabbed a large object and I hit it on the cage lock. It fell off and I pulled Tommy and his friends out. They awoke from their trance and looked around wildly. We walked back outside and I could hear shouts and yells from the bayou. But I could no longer see them. The angry voices of 300 long dead. And then the screams of Julia Brown. She sounded afraid and then all was silent. I don't know what happened to Julia Brown or why the ghost suddenly managed to work up the strength to challenge her rule over the bayou. Tommy and his friends managed to completely recover from their ordeal, but he never did return there. Michael was committed to a mental institute. I try to visit him as often as I can. What I do know is that we messed with a very dark presence in that place. Something I hope I never encounter again.