Ever since I was a kid, I’ve liked to search through abandoned buildings. My city used to have a lot of factories and industrial buildings, but most of them closed down before I was born. As a result, there’s a sizable online community of urban explorers like me based in our city, and I’ve often used it for help or to find interesting places to explore. Once, I was looking on an urban exploration message board when I found a post that caught my eye. I’ve transcribed it here, censoring any locations so you don’t make the same mistake I did and try to find it for yourself.
Has anyone heard of the Archives?
My friend is an urban explorer, and he told me about a place he found once - a bunker, located near ██████████. He didn’t go in very far, but he said that it seemed like a hall of records of sorts. I’ve been worried about him, because he seems shaken by the whole experience. I can’t find anything about it online. Does anyone else know about it?
I’ll admit I was curious. I had seen most of my city’s abandoned areas by now, so the idea of something new intrigued me. I was a bit worried about how the guy who found this place was so shaken up, but I decided to read the comments before I passed judgement.
Never seen anything like that, and I’ve been by ██████████ hundreds of times.
The city digitised its archives a while ago, but they were in City Hall. I don’t know what an archive would be doing out there.
None of the comments seemed very helpful, so I had no choice but to talk to the poster. I sent them a short message, asking a few more questions about the Archives. They didn’t respond to my message. After some contemplation, I decided to take a look there myself. I’m no amateur - I’ve been to places that were far more dangerous than this place sounded.
A few days later, I drove out to the location listed in the post. It was a grassy field a small ways outside of the city. I stopped at the approximate location and started searching. It was the sort of place where the grass went up to your waist, which made searching difficult. After a lot of searching, under a layer of dirt, I spotted a steel hatch. I was afraid it would be locked, but thankfully it wasn’t. It was small, but I managed to squeeze in. The hatch led to a ladder that seemed to stretch down for miles. I began to climb down into the hole. It was nearly pitch black, so I activated my headlamp. Eventually, my foot hit the ground. I looked around the illuminated area. It was a thin concrete corridor that led to a small steel door.
Hesitantly, I walked up to the steel door. I grabbed the handle and pulled it open. It led into a small lobby. Like the rest of the place, it was concrete and unwelcoming. A small reception desk lay dormant. There was another door next to the reception desk. A sign above that door said, “The Archives”. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that my journey wasn’t for nothing. I went up to the door. Before I opened it, I saw a sheet of paper attached to the door. It read as follows:
Rules for Employees of the Archives
Our employees, we are pleased to grant you the honour to work in our prestigious institution. The Archives is committed to our goal of filing all culturally significant works within our halls. Please familiarise yourself with our filing system.
Rule One: There are several sections of The Archives for each type of medium, from film reels to ledgers. Within each section is an aisle for every letter. File each document in alphabetical order within its proper section and aisle.
Rule Two: Do not, under any circumstances, communicate with an archivist if you encounter one. You will know them by their blue blazers.
Rule Three: The only valid files are those that come in through the chutes. Any files found on the floor are not to be trusted. Do not read them, and, if you do, do not trust any information contained in them.
Rule Four: Any announcements coming from the speakers are not to be trusted if they occur past 12:00 PM.
Rule Five: If you have broken any of the above rules, do not trust the overhead signs, and if you see an archivist, run. Remain calm until
That was where it ended. Part of the page was torn off. I looked all around the office, but I couldn’t find anything that looked like a scrap of paper. I’ll admit it - at this point, I was nervous. I tried to calm myself. It seemed too surreal to be true. I decided that the only way to make sure of it was to go in myself.
I cranked the handle of the door and opened it. The second I saw the Archives, my anxieties got worse. I saw rows and rows of endless shelves on a concrete floor, all in complete darkness. I have a powerful headlamp, yet it barely created a thin beam of light in this massive place. I could see light fixtures hanging from above, yet I couldn’t see where they were actually hanging from. The ceiling was shrouded completely in darkness, giving the place the illusion of being infinite. I turned and saw rows and rows of chutes, all leading to a singular large bin in front of me.
A loud clanging noise disrupted the silence. I moved towards the source of the noise and saw a document in a light grey file slide down a chute and land softly in the bin. Hesitantly, I looked down into the bin and picked it up. It was labelled “Urban Exploration Board Post”. I flipped it open.
Has anyone heard of the Archives?
I dropped the file immediately. It was the same post I had seen earlier - the one that had convinced me to come here in the first place. Word for word. I started to hyperventilate. I turned around and tried to open the door to leave, but it was stuck. I pulled harder and harder, but it refused to budge. A voice crackled on the speaker.
“Stop that. You can’t leave until your shift is over.” The voice sounded human, but it was shrouded by a sea of static. “Help!” I called. “Let me out!”.
“I said that you can’t leave until your shift is over. That’s not for another two hours.”
“There’s some sort of mistake! I don’t work here!” I called up the speaker.
“Then why are you here?” It responded. This time, I had to cover my ears due to a loud screech of static.
“I was just exploring. I’ll go now!” I responded.
“I don’t control the door - the Archives do. And clearly, it knows you’re an employee. So get to work. And remember, any file you ignore is considered to be breaking Rule One. Good luck.”
The speaker shut off. I called up to it, but it was in vain. Whoever was at the other end was done talking. Remembering Rule Four, I glanced at my watch. 11:00 AM. That meant I could trust the speakers, at least according to the Rules. I didn’t want to break Rule One by filing incorrectly, so I picked up the grey file. I looked around and after some time found a section of the Archives labeled “Online Posts”. I marched passed endless aisles and endless sections. Each section of a medium of information had aisles reaching from A to Z. Every aisle I passed looked the same as the last - without the signs that hung overhead, I would be completely lost.
Finally, I reached the “U” aisle (for “Urban Exploration”) in the Online Posts section. I scanned the aisle for a long time to find the correct place to put the file. I eventually found the right spot, among other files about Urban Exploration. I slotted it in. I turned to my left, and saw someone. An older man, wearing a blue blazer and carrying a stack of files. He turned towards a nearby shelf, thankfully. My first instinct was to call out to him - finally, another person! But less than a second before I called out, I remembered Rule Two - do not communicate with another archivist. The blue blazer. Nervously, I moved back a few steps, then a few more. I tried to be as quiet as possible. The archivist turned and started walking away from me. I didn’t move until he had disappeared into the Archives.
The speaker crackled on again. “Your shift is over. You can go now.” Had it really been two hours? I knew that I had done a lot of walking, but I didn’t know it had been that long. I left the “U” aisle and started to follow the overhead signs directing me to the exit. I had been doing this for around 15 minutes when I saw something. It was the Online Post “U” Aisle. Had I been walking in circles? With a horrible realisation, I checked my watch. 12:30 PM. The announcement must have been at around 12:15 PM. I had broken Rule Four.
I struggled to remember what to do if I broke a rule, until I remembered that it was covered in Rule Five. Don’t pay attention to the signs, run from any archivists, and remain calm until - well, something happens. The sign’s bottom had been torn off. I started to feel a rumbling. It seemed to come deep below the Archives, yet it shook so loudly that a few files fell off the shelves.
I turned to my right and saw another archivist. This time, however, it was staring directly at me. It looked like a normal human, dressed in the same blue blazer, with one exception. Its eyes were gone. There were just two hollow sockets, with nerves and a skull visible behind them. The archivist took a step towards me. Then another. Then another. The whole time, I was too scared to move. The archivist’s slow walk turned into a jog, then a sprint. My instincts kicked in, and I bolted down the “U” aisle.
While I was running, I caught a glimpse of something on the ground. I was only able to catch a few words - Instructions for Employees of the Archives. I had to get it - to see what to do if I broke Rule Five. The archivist followed closely behind me. Another rumble shook the whole Archive, shaking dust from the shelves and bringing more files down. It seemed like this place could cave in at any moment - if the archivist didn’t catch me first. I had to get those instructions.
Thinking quickly, I doubled back and sprinted in the opposite direction. The archivist had been pursuing me so quickly, that it took a moment to register that I had turned and passed it. It started chasing me again, but by this point, I was almost at the instructions. The archivist bellowed an inhuman screech in anger, and ran even faster than it ever had before at me. I grabbed the instructions and quickly read the last rule.
Rule Five: If you have broken any of the above rules, do not trust the overhead signs, and if you see an archivist, run. Remain calm until you locate the exit.
All of my hopes disappeared. This was it? How was I supposed to find the exit? I turned over the page, searching for more information, and saw this:
To find the exit, go to the Z aisle of the nearest section.
I was still in the “U” aisle. If I ran as fast as possible, I might make it to aisle Z. I sprinted harder than I ever knew I could. My lungs felt like they were about to explode. Another rumble shook the building, temporarily halting the archivist. That was what I needed. I ran past V, W, X, and Y, before finally finding Z, with a large door marked “Exit”. I grabbed the door, but it was locked.
I looked back nervously - the archivist was close. I checked my watch - 12:59 PM. Then - 1:00 PM. My two hour shift was over. I tore open the door and slammed it hard behind me - right into the oncoming archivist. The archivist banged on the door. I was back in the reception office. The archivist’s banging was getting louder, and I was afraid that it might actually break through. I ran for the ladder and crawled out.
I burst open the hatch to the bright sunlight. I closed the hatch and ran to my car. I got in and slammed on the gas pedal. I drove like this until I got back to my house. I didn’t stop to breathe until I had locked my door behind me.
I haven’t recovered since then. I’ve been spending all of my time in my house, reliving my horrible “shift” at the Archives. After the first few days, I tried to calm myself. I tried to comment on the original post I saw, to warn others, but it was nowhere in my search history, and I couldn’t find it on the website. I’ve been having some doubts about my escape from the Archives, however. Rule Two said that I shouldn’t trust any information I get from a file on the ground, and that was how I found out how to escape.
Today, my doubts were confirmed. When I woke up, I saw something across the street - a tall, metal shelf, full of documents. I ran across the street - it couldn’t be true. I pulled a file off the shelf and flipped it open.
Has anyone heard of the Archives?
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve liked to search through abandoned buildings…
The sky went dark. As my eyes adjusted, I realized I wasn’t on my street anymore. I was in a hallway - a seemingly infinite hallway of metal shelves and grey files.
I heard a familiar crackle of static. “You have two hours to complete your shift. Good luck.”