Scully couldn't deny the things she'd seen anymore. While it wasn't always something supernatural or paranormal, she knew those things existed, and coexisted within our "normal" world.

This time she'd come alone. Mulder was busy with abother case resembling another old X File, something in Tennessee, from what he'd told her. And she? Well, Scully could solve her own spooky case by herself.

Or so she thought.

She had heard and read many, many times, how people said New Orleans was like a beacon for the supernatural —be it witches, werewolves or even vampires. Some even claimed there were hybrids from these species. It was odd that, despite so much "proof"... Most of the deaths were covered up. Was it actually vampires and monsters, or something darker, a conspiracy only humans could be capable of?

Scully parked her rented car outside a bar in the French Quarter. Rousseau's, the old sign read. For some reason, many people mentioned this place in their testimonies. And, truth be told, after unpacking her stuff at a nearby motel, Scully could use a drink or two.

She sat down on a stool at the bar, subtly but curiously glancing around, observing the place, the people... The jazz music, played lived, was smooth and rich, and pleasant to hear. Everyone seemed pretty much in a calm, content mood.

She'd still hadn't seen any witches, werewolves or vampires so far.