As I lay flat on my back, wondering if I’d ever breathe again, I questioned my recent choices.
***
I was a truck driver by day. I drove one of the smaller box trucks making deliveries. But that didn’t keep me off the interstates. Twice a week I took the long trip for supplies.
Driving on the interstate with all the idiots made me want to do terrible things to people.
Like when some grandma was sitting in the passing lane for an hour with her cruise control set on forty-seven and no one could pass her.
When I got to a city the traffic intensified. Being stuck with the other four lanes of law-abiding traffic for a half hour and watching helplessly as these arrogant drivers in their BMW’s and Mercedes decided to pass everyone on the berm because they’re too important to wait like the rest of us, made me think of doing some bodily harm to some idiot drivers.
As I was heading back from my stressful trip, this idiot in a big rig decided that I was in his lane. I saw the tires getting closer as he changed lanes with no signal.
I slammed on the brakes to keep from being pushed off the road at seventy miles per hour.
Did he stop? No. Did he even slow or flash his lights in recognition that he’d done anything wrong? Of course not.
I stared in rage at the truck that was pulling away from me and suddenly I felt my foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. I caught up to him and honked my horn so he would look at me. Then I gave him the finger and swerved into his lane.
He swerved away from me. I didn’t need to be able to read lips to tell the kind of language he was using.
He swerved back and I had to go into the passing lane to avoid him.
In doing so, I almost sideswiped a minivan I hadn’t noticed. They managed to avoid me, but that was when I came to my senses and realized what I was doing.
I hit the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. I put the truck in park and turned it off. I sat there shaking at the thought of how dangerous and stupid I’d been.
It was then I realized I needed a vacation. It had been two years since I’d taken one. And the incident showed me that the job was getting to me.
I had lots of time to think about it and I knew exactly where I wanted to go.
You know how there are things you always want to do but you put them off because you don’t have time? That was the thing I planned on doing to regain my perspective.
***
I used to live in a small town when I was a kid. We lived on a side road of town where there wasn’t much traffic, but we could see downtown and the main bridge crossing the river.
Like anything else, you grow up in a small town seeing certain things and taking them for granted.
There was a house beside us that was run down. I don’t ever remember seeing anyone enter or leave it. In the backyard, there was a car that sat outside the garage under a tarp where you could see the taillights and the back end.
It never dawned on me until I left, grew up, and learned some things. When I came back I realized that the car that was sitting there rusting apart was a 1967 Shelby GT 500 Mustang.
Like other things you grow up thinking it was an old rusty car, not realizing until later just how special it was.
There was a building a few blocks up from where we lived that we would pass on our way to the store. It never dawned on me that it was anything special.
After I grew up and came back, I found out it was a mental hospital. By that time, it had already been abandoned. But with my urban explorer sensibilities, I felt the compulsion to go in and see this building that used to be so well kept which now stood empty and deteriorating.
I walked up to the corner and stopped to take in the sight of the weeds growing and windows that were boarded up. I felt like I had to see what was inside. I had looked it up online and found a few interesting articles about it, but strangely none that went in-depth. I ignored the assertion that the place was haunted. Many articles alluded to abandoned places being haunted. It increased the interest in the article and therefore the click rate.
I had packed my backpack with the usual supplies and rented a hotel room on the edge of town.
I parked in the parking lot and walked three blocks up to the building. I didn’t want to have a car sitting outside the building if people got suspicious. Urban exploring can be dangerous and, in some cases, illegal, so it’s usually good to keep a low profile.
As I walked up to it, the detritus and weeds greeted me. The entire building was made of yellow bricks, including the staircase. This made me chuckle. First of all, wondering how in the world anyone could justify that. Even if it rained, they would get slick as snot. Secondly, my vivid imagination thought, ‘I wonder if this is where Dorothy ended up.’
I started up the stairs looking for the spots that weren’t about to collapse and made it to the front porch. There were some boards that looked a little dodgy, so I avoided them as I made my way around the maze of rotten wood. I finally got to the front door, which of course was locked and had a ‘No trespassing’ sign on it. Any good urban explorer will tell you is more of a guideline than a rule.
I shuffled my way carefully along the few good remaining boards on the porch and made it over to a boarded-up window.
I pushed on the board and it was pretty solid. So, I shuffled my way over to the other side to a board that looked like it had a small hole in it.
I glanced around to make sure no one was looking before giving the moldy board a yank. It didn’t come off with the first pull but did give enough to encourage me to try several more times before finally pulling it free.
I ducked as the moldy splinters that held it into the frame showered down on me. I pulled the board off and set it down, feeling a sense of accomplishment only to be confronted by what remained of the window.
I pushed the remainder of the glass out of the frame and climbed inside. What immediately struck me was the stench. It was part mold and part some type of decay. I reached into my backpack and pulled out my respirator mask and goggles.
Next, I put on my gloves and snapped my body camera into place.
I chuckled. Whenever I’d put these accessories on, I felt like an astronaut exploring an alien world.
The dust floating past the windows lit up as rays of sunshine penetrated the room.
I stepped inside and stood in what looked like a reception area. There were old pots that had once held healthy, vibrant plants. But now they were just tendrils of decay laying on the floor.
There was a small reception desk that hadn’t fared much better. The wood had curled up and was beginning to fall apart.
I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures before testing the floor down the main hallway. It seemed like the boards inside the building had fared better than those on the outside. But I knew not to take anything for granted. What looked like a sturdy board could collapse at any time, leaving me falling to an unknown fate.
Every step I took made a threatening creak, but as of yet, I hadn’t seen any holes in the floor.
Aside from the floorboards creaking, it was silent as a tomb. It was rather unnerving. The place was on the outskirts of town, like my former home, and it was only a few blocks away from the freeway, yet I couldn’t hear any noises from outside. It was like someone had placed a giant bubble over the place.
As I proceeded down the hallway, I glanced into one of the rooms. It was nothing extraordinary. It had a couple of old-style hospital beds that had cranks to raise and lower the head and feet of the patient and there were privacy screens just like you’d see in an old hospital.
It had the detritus of decay, but nothing that suggested anything sinister.
The newspaper article I had dug up about the place shutting down hadn’t suggested anything out of the ordinary, except mere lack of funding.
I came out of the room and proceeded down the hallway, continuing to treat the floorboards with suspicion. The next room held more of the same. A quick scan revealed nothing extraordinary. The next several rooms were similar. They were patient examination rooms of a very generic design.
I felt like someone was watching me. I could feel their eyes boring into the back of my skull, but every time I would whip around, no one was there. I chalked it up to the creepy environment and hearing my own breath through the mask.
The end of the hall presented me with a choice. There was a set of stairs that went up and down. I hesitated for a moment before choosing up. I switched on my headlight and took the stairs slowly one at a time. Aside from the creaks, they seemed sturdy enough. I gripped the handrail tightly as I rose.
When I turned the corner, I was met with an unpleasant surprise. There was a large hole in the middle of the stairs. I snapped a picture with my phone, then leaned forward and examined it closely. It didn’t seem to be caused by dry rot. It looked like someone had taken a giant ice cream scoop and scooped out a perfect circle of stairs. I reached down and felt the edges. Surprisingly, they were perfectly smooth. No splinters, no rough spots whatsoever.
The hole was only a foot across. There were two steps that were affected. I eyed the stairs above the hole, and they seemed sturdy.
I thought for a long moment, calculating the risks, before I grabbed the rail, bent at the knees, then jumped.
I cleared both steps, landing on the one above the anomaly, with my balance teetering for a moment until I pulled on the handrail to steady myself. That was the exact moment when the railing decided it had done its duty long enough. The screws came loose from the wall sending me sprawling back down the stairs. I sailed over the hole, landing on the step below it and bouncing the rest of the way down to the landing.
I lay there for a moment amid the cloud of dust that descended on me, checking to make sure everything still worked, and nothing was broken.
I rose, dusted myself off, and made a run up the stairs two at a time until I leaped over the hole, landing above it and continuing my momentum the rest of the way up to the top of the stairs. When I got there, I paused and turned to look back down like I had just made it up Everest.
I pumped my fists in the air and spun around like Rocky on the steps of city hall. When my foot came too close to the edge, I nearly tumbled back down the stairs. I decided I had celebrated enough.
I opened the door to the upstairs hallway, and it emanated a loud creak as you’d hear in every scary movie. I wondered if that would set the tone for this floor.
I stepped out into the hallway and the first thing I noticed was movement.
I froze. Something had darted into one of the rooms as soon as I stepped into the hallway. I was rapidly becoming less excited about my vacation choice but decided it was probably a raccoon or some other animal that had made its home inside the deteriorating building.
The problem was, even if that was true, a cornered animal can be dangerous.
After mentally flipping a coin, I decided to continue my exploration. As tempted as I was to rewind the footage on the body cam and see exactly what it was, I pushed ahead figuring I would find out eventually.
The rooms on this floor were smaller and more comfortable. There were chairs beside each hospital bed, and there were pictures on the wall. It seemed like this was a higher classroom meant for long-term stays.
I looked at one of the pictures. It was a painting of a severe-looking woman. Judging by her painting, she had never cracked a smile in her life.
The next several rooms held this same pattern. The same comfort level and pictures on the wall. It was like they were surrounding the patients with the thought of these people in the pictures watching over them.
It was creepy, but I guess when these rooms were in use, it wasn’t common to have a television in each room. What was even creepier was the pictures had those eyes that seem to follow you wherever you go. I swore I saw the eyes move in one of the pictures, but I was sure it was just my imagination.
After experiencing a room full of glaring pictures, I passed the next several rooms with merely a glance inside.
They looked the same anyway, so my anxiety justified avoiding yet another stare-down.
I came to the end of the hall and looked out the window. It was odd seeing the street from this point of view. As I panned around, I noticed an old man dressed in shabby clothes standing on the sidewalk. Nothing about him was particularly odd except he was staring at me. I looked twice to make sure I hadn’t seen it wrong. But it was definite, he was staring directly at me.
We locked eyes and something passed between us. I had the feeling this man was important. Perhaps he was somehow connected to this place.
He smiled, then turned and started walking up the street.
I suddenly felt like I had to talk to him. I ran to the end of the hall and bounded down the stairs. I tore down the main hallway toward the front door. In my excitement, I forgot about the weak spots in the floor and stepped on one.
It instantly collapsed from under me, leaving me grasping at falling pieces of wood. I tumbled through empty air and landed flat on my back. The wind escaped me and I struggled to breathe as I lay there in pain looking up at the large opening in the ceiling.
It was right then that I questioned my sanity for choosing this as a vacation.
I was tempted to rip my mask off but resisted the urge. Being in the basement (if that’s where I was) would be the most likely place to encounter all kinds of mold and other things I didn’t want crawling around inside my lungs.
At the moment I couldn’t move, let alone rip my mask off. All I could do was feel the pain shooting through me and listen to the raspy breaths struggling to get into and out of my mask. I sounded a little like Darth Vader just before he died. That was a comforting thought.
Seconds ticked by like they were stuck in mud as I waited for my breath to return and the pain to abate. I whiled away the time by trying to move and make sure nothing was broken.
After what seemed like an eternity, I ended my evaluation by announcing to myself that the only thing truly hurt was my pride.
I slowly sat up and pushed the broken wood pieces off me while panning my flashlight around this new environment.
The first thing I saw was a row of old-style washing machines that had rollers to squeeze the clothes through. They were lined up against a wall that was decorated with cobwebs and looked like it had streams of rust starting where the pipes ran down the wall to the machines.
As I stood and started walking, I was nearly decapitated by a rope hanging from the ceiling. In fact, there were several ropes hanging in lines. They must’ve been for drying the clothes when the weather was bad.
I followed the hallway and found it less refined than the upstairs. The walls were made of rough-hewn wood. The rooms reminded me of coal bins. I came to an old rusty door that was partway open. I tried to stick my head in and see what was inside, but it wouldn’t fit. I gave a solid tug on the door and it opened a foot or so, but rust rained down on me.
I supposed the door hadn’t been opened in a while.
I stepped inside and panned my light around. In the corner, I saw a pair of glowing eyes staring at me.
I backed up and bumped into the door causing another rain of rust. The thing wasn’t huge. It reminded me of an opossum or a raccoon, except it had no hair. Calling it a giant naked rat wouldn’t have been too far off.
The room itself appeared to be a maintenance closet. As I panned around the room then back, I noticed the eyes were gone. That sent me into a full panic. It was bad enough knowing there was some creature down here with me, but even worse not knowing where it was.
I darted out of the room, bumping the door, but running so fast it didn’t get another chance to dump rust on me. I was partway down the hall before I slowed to a stop and bent over to take a breather.
As I stood there looking down I noticed two ruts worn into the floor. I leaned down and touched one. It was smooth as if worn in over a long time.
I looked down the hallway and saw the ruts disappear into the darkness. I pulled out my phone and took a few pictures.
My curiosity dragged me after these tracks. I nearly ran down the hallway ignoring room after room as I followed the trail. When I got to the end, the trail disappeared. It didn’t fade away, it just stopped at a wall.
I searched all around for the tracks to go in a different direction, but they didn’t. They just ended.
I remembered seeing something similar in a movie. I searched all around for something that would make the wall disappear somehow.
There was nothing on the wall. No decorations or marks. I stepped back and searched the side walls, but still, they were clear of any decoration or markings.
Frustrated, I stepped back even further only this time I came across a small symbol, barely noticeable on the right wall. I examined it closely then pressed it and… nothing happened.
I sighed and looked around for anything else that could’ve been useful, but there was nothing on either side.
I took another step back and looked over the entire area. The symbol was around seven feet away from the wall. It seemed odd to have it that far away from the wall, unless…
I took another look at the ruts in the floor and saw they were around three feet apart. The symbol was seven feet from the wall. Just the perfect size for… a gurney.
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.
I examined the symbol again. It was a crude scratching of a cross. I pressed against it again and nothing happened. As I took my thumb away, I felt it move. I pressed my thumb to it again and began to turn. To my great surprise, I was able to turn it. It kept going with no reaction. I had no idea how far I would need to turn before there was any reaction.
When the cross came to the upside-down position, it stopped. I stared at the wall in anticipation, but nothing happened.
I turned to start back up the hallway when I felt a soft rumbling. I turned back to see the wall sliding to the side. I darted into the open passageway, not knowing how long the door would stay open. A few minutes later, as I followed the passageway, I heard the door go shut.
It wasn’t until then that I realized I had no way out of this place.
I went back to the now-closed wall and examined it. There didn’t seem to be any markings, just like the other side. I backed up a few paces and looked for a symbol when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to find no one there.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I stopped looking for the symbol and started quickly walking down the hall, hoping to get away from who or whatever it was that tapped me. I wasn’t a huge believer in the supernatural, but I didn’t discount it either. If someone wanted to get me, they would have to chase me.
The flashlight mounted on my head began bouncing as I jogged away, making shadows dance across my path. Just as I slowed down and convinced myself I had been stupid to run, someone tapped me on the shoulder again. I turned around but no one was there.
This time, I didn’t mess around, I took off at a full run.
During the daytime, outside, if someone had tapped me and no one was there, I would’ve just brushed it off as weird and walked away. Inside a creepy tunnel underneath what used to be a mental hospital, I wanted out.
Sometimes the only way out is through. There was no way I was going back to the wall/door again unless I had no choice.
My mask began to fog up as my breathing became more labored from running. I had run flat out for over a minute and was winded. The mask wasn’t exactly helping, but I didn’t dare take it off. I had no idea how long it had been since this passageway had felt fresh air and I had no desire to suck up lungfuls of mold and who knows what else.
I slowed to a stop and fell to my knees, exhausted, gasping for air. I fought with every ounce of determination in me not to rip the mask off. In the meantime, my back sent me painful reminders of the little tumble through the floor that happened not so long ago.
It took a good ten minutes for me to recover and breathe normally. Just as I was about to get up, I felt the tapping again.
This time, exhaustion won over terror. I turned to find no one there as before. I took the light off my head and shined it down on the offending shoulder only to find the biggest spider I’d ever seen in my life sitting there.
I freaked out and swatted it away, tracking it with my light. It landed light as a feather on the dirt floor a few feet away and just sat there. I stared at it for the longest time, waiting for it to leap at me and attack. But after a few minutes, it turned around and scuttled off as if it was bored.
Once it was out of sight, I put the light back on my head and continued down the rough-hewn hallway.
At first, I whipped around every ten feet or so to make sure my former passenger wasn’t sneaking up on me. After a few times without a trace of it, I stopped looking.
As I plodded through the tunnel, I examined the walls. Aside from the occasional cobweb, there was nothing on the walls at all. This struck me as odd that there would be no lights, not even the occasional metal bracket to hold a wooden torch. It was as if whoever traversed this tunnel was on their own.
I shone my light at the floor and the ruts were still there. It seemed like a long distance to travel if someone was sick and needed treatment, and it was going away from the hospital. It didn’t make sense, unless…
Suddenly it became clear exactly what my destination was. I was heading for the morgue.
I shone my light down the middle of the tunnel, but it didn’t light anything. Wherever the end was, I still wasn’t close enough to see it. I wasn’t sure what I expected to see, but it wasn’t going to be for a while.
My mind held a tug of war, go forward or go back? In the end, it was the explorer in me that won out. I was here to see what was in this building and now that I was in its very bowels, I was having second thoughts.
I sighed and started forward slowly. It took a little while for my resolve to reach my legs. Once it did, my walk became a march. After a while, I saw a faint outline of something ahead. My eagerness and pace increased the closer I came.
When I finally reached it, I found it was another wall. Only this time I knew what I was looking for. I stepped back a few paces and found the symbol at eye level on the wall. I turned the cross upside down and watched as the door slid to the side.
I rushed into the next room full of the excitement of discovery, only to find I was in a garbage pit. There was rot and ruin in piles. As I flashed my light around, the room seemed to be lighter than the tunnel. When I stepped in, there was a flurry of movement. Eyes that I’d seen in the first room scattered all about. I jumped when one came my way, then seemed to realize its mistake and followed others through a doorway. I resolved not to explore that room.
The stench must’ve been horrendous because I could smell it through my mask. That worried me. If I could smell it, then it must be getting through the filters. What else was getting through the filters?
I looked up and saw the ceiling of the room was much higher. There were three large openings above the bulk of the detritus in the room. They looked like they were some form of garbage chute.
Now that the denizens of the room had fled, I looked more closely at the piles. I took a few steps toward the piles and saw white reflect back at me. I pulled out my phone and took a picture. The flash made the image clearer than my headlamp. I looked at the picture and there, half covered in filth was a human skull.
I took an involuntary step back and scanned the rest of the pile. As I did, I saw a bone sticking out here and there. The more I looked the more I saw. There were leg bones and arm bones, and more skulls of varying sizes. The one that chilled me to the marrow was a tiny skull no bigger than a grapefruit.
I needed to get out of this room right now.
I dove into the first door I came to, no longer caring if it was the same door some of the critters had gone through. I ran out of the bone room and into a different hallway. This one was made entirely of bricks. The ceiling was low and arched with the bricks from the wall forming perfectly into the ceiling.
I paused to take a breath and compose myself. How many bones had I seen? Dozens? Hundreds? I really wasn’t sure. I leaned back in and took a quick picture with my phone then got out of that room. I didn’t want to think about it now, but I was sure this would be the last time I visited this place. It would only make sense to record as much as possible.
It was then I remembered my body cam. I took it off its mount and checked to make sure it was still on. The power light shone green and the record light glowed red. I checked the battery and recording space and found around an hour left for my exploration.
I had no desire to check the video now. I was sure I’d be seeing those critters again soon enough.
But what really bothered me were the bones. Why wouldn’t they just bury them? What about the families of all those people? Did they know their remains were down here in someone’s basement, dumped like trash?
I couldn’t imagine the people of the town knew about this. There would’ve been a major uproar. Could this be why the place was shut down? Did someone investigate and discover it, then quietly cover it up to prevent a scandal?
I looked down the brick hallway.
The only way to get answers was to find them myself.
And what about that old man I’d seen on the street? The way he smiled… Did he know all about this? Did he know what I would find? Had he gone to tell someone that I was creeping around in their dirty little secret? Would he send someone to stop me, or even worse, disappear me like all the people whose bones now lay forgotten in a pile of garbage?
As if reading my thoughts, I heard a sound in the distance. It wasn’t loud. Like a stone had fallen or been kicked by someone too focused on sneaking up on me to notice it.
My senses went on high alert. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a can of pepper spray. Why I didn’t have it out long ago, I’m not sure. Perhaps I was too focused on exploration to be concerned about safety. A pain in my back reinforced that conclusion.
I did a slow pan in a circle looking all around the room. It was also dirty from years of disuse. I wished for more light. My headlamp was bright enough for normal circumstances, but in this underground labyrinth where light hadn’t been seen for untold years, my lamp was woefully underpowered. Every time I turned, shadows jumped and danced, making my anxiety run rampant.
As strange as it sounded, those small rodent-like creatures gave me hope. At least I knew there was breathable air down here. Otherwise, they would’ve died long ago. I wondered what they were feeding on. Cleaning the last shred of meat from bones would only last for so long. I wondered if they weren’t afraid of the light if they would’ve found me to be a lovely little snack.
At the moment, they seemed to be satisfied with hiding, but I could feel their eyes, and I knew that if the chance came, fresh meat would be a tantalizing temptation. Perhaps even enough to overcome fear of the light.
With this in mind, I did a reevaluation of my priorities. The way back to the main part of the hospital was very far, and I wasn’t sure if I could find the triggers to open the walls. Also, I wondered if my tumble into the basement had destroyed the stairs to get back up.
My choices were limited. Either I start down the brick hallway or go back into the bone room.
I still heard the call of exploring the unknown, but with every new danger that arose the volume decreased.
I started down the brick hallway, but slower than before. Every opening caused concern. Every sound, apprehension. The sounds were increasing by degrees. As if I was approaching the lively center of this dark and desolate place.
As tempted as I was to explore rooms as they emerged, I didn’t do more than pop my head in and take a picture. The quick glances showed them all to be rather similar. They were empty rooms with a drain in the middle of the floor. The doors were made of solid metal that had rusted and had a small viewport with metal bars. At the bottom of each door, there was an opening wide enough to slide a food tray in, but the rooms had no beds, no sinks, no toilets. If they were cells, they were quite inhumane.
I continued down the hallway, keeping on guard for anything that might jump out at me, while at the same time being drawn by the sound.
After a few minutes of walking, and not seeing anything, my nerves were shot. I was so anticipating an attack that the lack of one made things that much worse.
Finally, the sound got so loud I knew the source had to be right around the corner. Sure enough, I came to a turn in the hallway and there was my culprit. Water falling from far above and splashing into a puddle on the floor.
It must’ve been doing it for a long time because there was an impression worn into the floor where the puddle permanently resided.
When I rounded the corner, several of the critters scattered upon seeing the light.
I stepped around the puddle and continued down the hallway. It was strange hearing the sound recede. Like I had made a great discovery and then immediately abandoned it.
I came to a long circular ramp that went up to the next floor. I worked my way down this new hall until I came to a room that made me wish I’d never taken a vacation.
It was a large room, but very dirty. Unlike the other rooms in the basement hallways, this one had furnishings. There was a large cage that was round with metal slats and looked like it had just enough room to hold an adult. I knew this because there was a skeleton inside.
The legs had slipped out of the bottom and one of the feet was missing. The rest was piled at the bottom of the cage where the poor unfortunate soul must’ve died and been left there to rot.
I nearly wretched at the thought of being left to die in such a horrible way.
The rest of the room was furnished as well. With a rack, an Iron Maiden, and a strange contraption that had a pyramid sitting on top of a pole.
One other thing the room had was my missing gurney. It was sitting off in the corner rusting to pieces. One of the wheels had fallen off and the other three looked like they were close behind.
On the wall opposite the furnishings were three large openings. I looked through one and saw the pile of dirty bones in the room below where I had first entered.
But the next room held an even bigger shock. The room was large like the previous one but filled with occult images. On the floor was a large star with many smaller symbols near the points. There were many spots where dark stains covered sections of the floor.
There was an altar of some kind at the far end, but I had no desire to see it.
I went through that room as quickly as possible. So fast that I nearly ran into the ladder.
It was the only option. The hallway just ended at a ladder. I shone my light up but couldn’t see the top. It was once again decision time.
‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’ I thought.
But my mind was screaming to turn around and go back. At this point, I don’t think I could turn back without finding what was at the end of this parade of nightmares.
I grabbed the ladder and gave it a tug. It seemed to hold, and no rust fell so I began the climb. Partway up I took a break and shone my light toward the top. This time I could see something very faintly. It was nice to have a goal to aim for.
I climbed until my arms and legs felt like Jell-O. Finally, I felt something bump against my head. I looked up to find a trapdoor. I pushed against it, but it barely budged. After a few minutes of trying more desperately each time, I finally managed to push the trapdoor up enough to crawl out.
As soon as I was free it snapped back shut. I lay on the floor breathing hard from my vertical journey. After a few minutes, I gathered myself and got up to find out where I was. I looked around the room and it seemed to be the secluded corner of a storeroom. There were shelves full of copy paper, tablets, pencils, and other standard office supplies.
I went to the door and out into what looked like a modern office. There was a large desk sitting in front of a wall of old books. I looked around searching for the way out and found another door.
I stepped out into the sanctuary of an old, high ceilinged, church. The windows were beautiful artworks of stained glass, showing religious scenes. The pulpit was ornate, and the pipe organ was massive.
I stepped down from the stage wondering at the fantastic condition everything seemed to be preserved in for an abandoned church.
And then I saw the people sitting there. It wasn’t a lot, only a person here and there in the pews, but at the back of the church, staring at me and smiling, was the old man.
I walked down the center aisle drawing looks from people in the pews. I pulled off my mask and smiled my most apologetic smile as I walked to the back.
“Enjoy your trip?” the old man said when I got to him.
“Not really,” I said. “What do you know about it?”
He smiled and motioned me to follow him.
We went outside and I was surprised to find the old hospital I’d broken into, what seemed like an eternity ago, in the distance and downhill from where I stood.
The old man followed my line of sight.
“It doesn’t seem like it’s that far until you walk it.”
He sat down on the top step and I sat beside him.
“Who are you?” I said.
He sighed.
“I used to work there, a long time ago,” he said pointing at the hospital. “I was the one who delivered them to the dungeon.”
“You knew what went on in the upper level?”
He hung his head.
“As much as I would love to tell you no, it would be a lie,” he said. “I took them where they needed to go and put them in whatever holding room until they were called for.”
“And who called them?”
“Who do you think?” he said turning and looking at the front of the church.
“You can’t tell me that the priests… “
“Of course. They did ungodly things to those people,” he said with a far-off look. “You should’ve heard the screams. Constantly, night and day.”
“But how could they get away with it?” I said. “There would be some paper trail, some record of people being in the hospital.”
“You might be surprised,” he said. “This was long before humane rules were in place. If a patient came to our hospital, it was because they had done something awful, and sending them to prison would be a death sentence, or their families dropped them off because they could no longer handle them.”
My jaw fell open.
“People would just drop off sons and daughters like they were stray cats being taken to the pound?”
He nodded slowly.
“Unbelievable,” I said.
“Is it really? Think about our modern disposable society. If it’s too much trouble, get rid of it.”
“I see your point, but this was decades ago. Back when people still cared.”
“But also before a lot of mental illnesses were understood. People became convinced that their loved ones were crazy, or even demon-possessed.”
“So they brought them to the church,” I said blankly.
“And the church took them with open arms. Saying they would do the best they could, but never mentioning what would really happen.”
“What did really happen?”
“You were in the rooms, what do you think happened?”
“I saw the torture chamber, but why?”
“To release the sickness from their souls,” he said raising his arms theatrically. “That’s what the priests would have you believe.”
“And what was the real reason?”
“Because there are some sick individuals in this world, and some of them try to mask their sickness in the garb of a holy man.”
“They did it for their own pleasure,” I said closing my eyes, not wanting to believe it.
“Among other things.”
“Such as?”
“You saw the pentagram.”
I nodded.
“Sometimes the devil can fool you into thinking he’s an angel,” he said, then chuckled. “Which, of course, he was at one point.”
His chuckle made me raise an eyebrow.
“Are you a religious man?”
“Let’s just say I used to be.”
“Seeing things like that changed your viewpoint?”
He looked me straight in the eye.
“You can’t imagine the things I’ve seen.”
It sent chills down my spine.
“So they actually performed… ?”
“Human sacrifice rituals.”
“But why?”
He shrugged.
“Who knows? It’s like anything, once you justify it there is no guilty conscious about it.”
“That isn’t as illuminating as I’d like.”
He chuckled.
“Why did you break into the hospital today?”
I cringed.
“Don’t worry, I won’t call the police or anything,” he said. “I’m just curious.”
“I guess I wanted to see for myself.”
“Maybe that’s the same reason the priests started doing things in the basement so long ago. They were curious.”
“Maybe… “ I said allowing my thoughts to drift back to ancient times.
The old man watched me with a little grin on his face.
“You never answered me,” I said when I saw him staring. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m nobody who used to be somebody,” he said slowly getting up. I tried to help him but he waved me off.
“That still doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, it doesn’t, does it?” he said with that little grin. “I’ll see you around, kid.”
And with that, he started down the hill.
“Can I help you, son?” came a voice behind me.
I whipped around, startled, and found a little priest standing there. He wasn’t very tall and had thinning grey hair.
“No thanks, father,” I said. “I was just talking to this old man here.”
“What old man?” he said.
I looked and the old man was gone. I stood and turned all around. There was no way he could’ve gotten down the hill already, it was a half mile away. I looked to see if maybe he’d fallen, but he was just gone.
“He was here a minute ago.”
“Son, I don’t know how to tell you this,” the old priest said. “But you’ve been sitting out here alone for fifteen minutes talking to yourself. I watched to see if you were ok.”
He pointed toward the church and there was an open window that he must’ve looked through.
“That can’t be,” I said mostly to myself.
He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder.
“You wouldn’t be the first to be confused about things,” he said. “Why don’t you come back inside, and we’ll talk. Maybe I can help you.”
I looked down at the grin on his face. On the surface, it seemed friendly, but knowing what was beneath the church…
“No thanks, father,” I said. “I think I’ll go back to my nice safe truck.”
I started down the hill with a fresh perspective on life. I mean it’s not every day you find out the things I have. And as for the old man…
When I walked past the hospital I looked up at the second-story window I’d seen him through, I swore I saw a fleeting glimpse of someone looking out at me.
I stepped a little faster heading for my car.
When I got home and reviewed the footage from my body cam, I found the priest was right. There was no old man, I was sitting there talking to myself. There was a strange fluctuation when I would look at where the old man should have been, like heat waves in the desert.
I never came back to explore my hometown.
Some things are better left alone.