Once upon a time, monsters huddled in abandoned houses, mental institutes, or subway tunnels. Further back, you’d find them in decrepit manor houses staffed by dim-sighted lackeys. Readers of Victorian horror had no idea how close to the truth those writers tread.
Nate seemed genuinely excited to be heading for
Louisiana and the storied streets and alleys of New Orleans. He even
conceded he might try a brothel again. I didn’t know how to tell him we
weren’t going to some antiquated plantation. Instead of hanging out
swamp-side, our voodoo priest had settled in the scariest place
possible… the suburbs.