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Grace Ianna Moore

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"There is no such thing as ghosts."

Or at least, you know, that's what I said two years ago. I just had to open my big mouth in front of my oldest brother, Seth, who is a ghost hunter.

"If that's what you think, Gracie, then it shouldn't be any big thing to go apply down at I.B.S.O. They're always looking for good people, and you fit the bill. ... somewhat."

Isn't he just the cutest thing you've ever wanted to slap? If Mom hadn't been sitting across from us at the dinner table, I probably would've shoved my salad fork up his nostril. Biting into my piece of bread viciously, I worked at sending Seth a telepathic message. The message being "I'm going to kick your ass as soon as Mum leaves." He just grinned at me, and continued on with the I.B.S.O. conversation as if I had already applied and been accepted.

I.B.S.O. Investigative Bureau of Supernatural Occurances. If you ask me, every single person in that building needed their heads checked. Myself included. Bright and early Monday morning, Seth drove me ( or rather, shoved my ass into the car and deposited me there with just my cell phone; no money to pay for a cab ) to the place, informing me that he'd be back in forty minutes to pick me up.

"Oh, bloody hell, smile. It's not like you believe in the ghosties or haints. Go apply as a goof, what do you have to lose, Currently Jobless?"

Gotta love the stupid, off the top of the head nicknames. Grumbling under my breath about ignorant brothers, retarded ghost hunters, and morons that actually get paid out of my tax money to investigate the things, I pushed through the glass double doors and.... promptly got lost.

Who'd have thought the building would be that big? Twenty minutes later, I arrived at what I percieved to be the front desk; out of breath, my hair disheveled, with one of my heels broken off. I was clopping up there like a racehorse with a missing horseshoe, and the anorexic secretary must've thought I had lost my mind.

"Um.. excuse me, Miss, but the Psych Ward is two streets over..."

"Yes, thank you for informing me of that. I'm here to apply for a job with the Bureau. Seth Moore was supposed to have called ahead and informed somebody that I was coming...?"


Apparently Seth's name worked miracles. As soon as I said that, she stopped popping her gum, put down the fingernail polish and immediately began taking me through a maze of desks, towards the back. When we ( finally ) arrived at the door, I felt as if I had just ran a marathon. I swear, if I didn't get this job, I was going to stick my brother's head up his own as--

"Miss? Hello. I'm Maurice VanBureen. Won't you come inside and have a seat? Lauren, get Ms. Moore some water."

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And that's how it started. After flipping through my resume, Maury ( as I was directed to call him ) promptly shook my hand and welcomed me to the Bureau. I never would've figured my degree in forensics and the couple of semesters I took studying the paranormal would pay off. I still don't believe in ghosts, but I tell you.. I've seen some things that I never want to, again in my life.

I was usually sent to the scenes that had unsolved murders. Imagine my delight to having to paw through human bodies that had been reduced to bite sized chunks. Blood a'plenty. I always got my man - yes, man, no ghosts - in the end. Perhaps thats why Maury decided to send me to Scotland. Lochland Castle. There had been an over-abundance of "unexplained" deaths occuring over the years, and it was about time someone got to the bottom of it.

Right before landing in Perth, I took down my carry - on bag and began rifling through the side pocket to find my rental car slip.. only to find something else. Seth has such a twisted sense of humour.. I guess that's why I haven't killed him yet. Wrapped in bright (blood red, no less) paper, was a small silver crucifix, suspended from a thin chain. The note inside read:

"Just a little something to keep away anything that might go bump in the night. -- Love, Seth"

Note to self: Kick him in the leg when I get home.

<font color="#DFECCA" size="1">[ March 24, 2005 11:30 PM: Message edited by: entropic notes ]</font>