Imprisoned

Posted: January 14, 2016 in Uncategorized

The oldest jail in Los Angeles is home to some seriously deranged energy. In the audio clip above, you can hear a male voice in the background saying, “Hey baby”. Seems appropriate, since there were several women attending this investigation, including many officers in the LAPD. One of them was accosted by someone who apparently didn’t appreciate her presence in the jail, for obvious reasons. I won’t go into detail about her experience; it was upsetting to her and unnerving for those of us listening to her story.

The “Goodbye” is fairly clear in this clip. Maybe whoever was still there wanted us to leave; but we didn’t oblige them.

At the very beginning of this audio clip, you can hear scurrying footsteps. I like this one, since we all heard these footsteps at the time, as well. The idea that someone unseen was running through the dark and empty rooms behind us was unsettling, to say the least. This was not an investigation for the faint of heart.

People have broken in many times to cover the walls with graffiti and litter the floors with garbage. The first floor is a monument to neglect and sadness.

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The experience that evening was odd for me. I had that familiar feeling of “oppression,” that unique feeling that you had better watch yourself carefully, because there were forces attempting to invade your psyche. The spirits there went on the attack a couple of times, leaving some of us emotionally drained. I was very careful this time. I know what bad people can do to you, whether alive or dead.

Marsha told me later that the area we all thought was only an old cafeteria also housed the morgue. That makes sense. It felt far, far too dark and depressing to simply be a cafeteria. At the point we were investigating that area, I kept my head down while others asked all the questions. This has become my usual modus operandi when investigating traumatized sites: I stay silent. The reason for this is simple: I don’t want to talk to those souls who might not welcome my presence, or might have some interest in harming me psychologically.

It was fascinating to watch the newer investigators. I think they started the evening as a fun adventure, something interesting and novel to do on a cold night. However, about halfway into the investigation, they were very subdued. At least a couple of people were genuinely scared, but not in the “scream and run” way, but that other scared: when you know you’ve walked into a situation utterly beyond your control and you can’t identify the aggressor. You can’t see him or touch him, only perceive him as a threatening presence. Is there anything worse for those in law enforcement, used to at least some measure of control when faced with a hostile person? You can hear voices in the distant rooms, you can feel the looming nastiness pushing into you, you can even hear them walking around, but you can’t do anything at all to protect yourself physically. You are utterly vulnerable.

Some people refuse to investigate this place, and I completely understand their point of view. Why surround yourself with such evil? Why indeed . . . while I can’t fully answer that question, I can say that when something is so mysterious, the curious have to keep trying to figure out how such a thing could happen, how someone could survive their deaths in this manner.

Dangerous? Yes. Will I go back if invited? Absolutely.

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