Urbex Horror Story

How can I be so stupid? Why did I agree to this dare? These were the questions I asked myself as I removed the loose board and entered the front doors.

As an urban explorer, I had wandered through many old factories, condemned apartment buildings, and tunnel systems. However, I deliberately avoided asylums. But here I was, walking into an abandoned mental hospital like an idiot.

The hospital had been closed since the early 1970s, and it showed. As I walked through the hallways, even in the daylight, shadows crept. The musty smell and the checker patterned floor was almost dizzying. I needed to find the morgue. I dare you to climb inside one of the cold chambers and take a picture, my friends said. Like a fool, I agreed. As huge as this asylum was, I remember thinking this would take forever.

I spent the first twenty or so minutes searching on the main floor. I was hoping to find a map or sign telling me which way to go, but no luck. Just about every room I looked in reminded me of how busy and thriving this institution once was. Its quiet setting now was almost deafening.

Aimlessly walking around was getting me nowhere fast. I decided it was time to try another floor. Ahead of me, I spotted a door labeled stairs. I walked through it and faced two choices, up or down. The stink that wafted up from the dark below decided it. I headed upstairs. To my surprise, when I reached the top, I saw a sign with an arrow pointing left. It read morgue.

Reaching my destination, I quickly opened one of the chamber doors and slid in. All I had to do was snap a picture. As I got into my pocket to pull out my phone, I felt like something or someone grabbed my wrists and held them down. After a couple of seconds, the pressure subsided. I shot out of the chamber as quickly as I could. Nearly blinded by fear, I rushed out of the morgue.

I could have sworn I ran back the way I had come. When I reached the end of the hall, I realized I had gotten turned around. I quickly ran around the next corner and crashed right into a wheelchair sitting in the middle of the corridor. I righted myself and the wheelchair and took a good look down the hall. On each side, there were ten closed doors. Each one had a room number. I remember thinking this is where the crazies slept.

With my adrenalin cranked to the max, it was hard to stay focused. I reached the end of the hall and turned again but found myself staring at a dead end. I turned around to double back and let out a little scream. I almost ran into the same wheelchair.

Clearly, in the layer of dust on the floor, I could see my footprints. Next to those were the tire tracks made by the chair's path. It appeared to have come from the other end of the hall. I ran. When I was about to turn and put this hall behind me, I took a quick look over my shoulder. Maybe it was a trick of the fading light, but I was sure all the doors were somehow now open.

I never thought I would be so happy to see a morgue sign. Quickly I got my bearings back and found the stairs that would get me off the damn floor. I found the front door and got the hell out of there.

Later that day, still shaken from what I had experienced, I struggled with my thoughts. When my friends knocked on the door, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I tried hard to explain what had happened to me, but they didn't want to believe me. I then pushed up the sleeves of my sweatshirt. The hand-shaped bruises on my lower arms finally convinced them.

I have been friends with Jeff and Sam since we were all kids, so I wasn't surprised by what came next. They wanted to go back to the asylum to check it out for themselves. There was no way I was going back. With darkness quickly approaching, I tried my best to talk them out of going but to no avail.

The following day, my cell phone woke me from a fitful sleep. On the other end of the line, Sam was quite upset. He just kept repeating over and over that he lost Jeff. It took a moment before I remembered the hospital and their foolish adventure.

I got Sam to calm down enough to explain what he meant. He seemed reluctant about sharing any details. I was sure it was fear I heard in his voice. I sat there dumbfounded as he explained how the two of them got separated. He said that Jeff must still be there because he's not home yet and won't answer his phone.

A wave of panic swept over me when Sam asked if I would go back to the hospital and find Jeff. When I suggested we go together, he broke down and began to sob, saying he couldn't go back. Then he mumbled something about shadows. I had never heard my friend like this before and just knew I was going alone.

Twenty minutes later, I stood again in front of this cursed asylum. I had to force myself to go back in. Once in, I yell out Jeff's name. The sound of my voice cut through the thick silence like I was using a megaphone. I knew it was too much to ask that I would get an instant reply.

I quickly search the main floor with no luck. I kept calling Jeff's name as I went. Before long, I knew I would have to try another level. Once again, I was standing in the stairwell. I yell Jeff's name into the dark of the basement below. This time I was happy not to get a response. I did not want to go into that abyss.

I headed up just like I did the day before. Once at the top, I again turned left towards the morgue. I only paused for a moment at the entrance. Just long enough to call out Jeff's name to make sure he wasn't in there. Moving on, I was now approaching the hallway with the scary wheelchair in it. I gave another shout, and this time I heard Jeff answer back.

I quickly turn the corner to find Jeff sitting halfway down the corridor with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. As I got closer, I could see the dirt and grime that covered him. It looked like he had been rolling around on the dirty floor. Also, on his face, I could see the tracks his tears made. He has been crying.

I extended my hand and helped him up. Tears again started to run as he whispered, "They won't let me leave!". He then asks which way is out. "It's this way," I said and started leading him back the way I came.

When we reached the corner, he looked baffled. He then told me that throughout the night, he must have turned this corner hundreds of times. Every time he did, he said, he would walk right back into the same hallway. He turned around and pointed to the other end, and I would end up there. I would be looking again and again at the stupid wheelchair. If I turned around to go back, I would be right here. When the battery in my cell phone had died, the flashlight on it went too. At that point, I just lay down on the floor and gave up.

I led Jeff away from his nightmare. When we reached the stairs, he finally asked about Sam. He claimed the last time he saw him, Sam followed me up the stairs. Then he was gone.

I told him how Sam was alright and about my phone call from him this morning. I think something terrible happened to him too, I explained. The tears once again started to fall from his eyes. In silence, I half carried Sam the rest of the way out.

A short time later, we were pulling up to the front of Jeff and Sam's apartment. Once inside, the two men embraced each other like two friends that haven't seen each other for years. As rough as Jeff looked, Sam looked twice as bad.

"Where did you go?" they both asked at the same time. Jeff spoke first. He claimed that the last time he remembered seeing Sam was right after agreeing to go up the stairs to the second floor.

"Wait a minute!" Sam jumped in. He explained that they had agreed to go down into the basement. Sam then swore Jeff following him down the steps. "What did happen to you last night?" he then asked Jeff.

I sat there and listened to Jeff tell again of his horrific experience on the second floor. Even though it's the second time hearing this, I hung on to every word. If it weren't for my experiences on that same floor, I would have said he was crazy.

Now it was Sams turn. Jeff and I waited for him to collect his thoughts. As tears started to well up in his eyes, he reached down and pulled up his pant leg. Around his right ankle was a deep purple-colored bruise. I pulled up my sleeve, and the now yellowish hand marks around my forearm looked identical.

While picking at an invisible spot on his pant leg, Sam started to tell his story. He said that as soon as he got to the bottom of the stairs, the darkness was so dense the light on his phone could hardly penetrate it. Sam had gone in only a few steps and realized Jeff was no longer there. He thought, perhaps Jeff just turned his light off as a joke. He recalled saying, "Very funny! You Can't scare me.".

Sam took a long pause in his story at that moment. A chill shot down my spine as Sam then said, "That's when my light went out, and they started having their fun.". Even though it was as black as pitch, I swear I could still see shadows moving all around me. One of the shadows then slammed into me and knocked me to the ground. He then explained that before he could get back up, something grabbed his ankle with a grip so cold it burned.

Whatever held his leg then started dragging him deeper and deeper into the darkness. No matter how much he kicked and struggled, he could not get free. Sam then said he thought he might have passed out.

At some point later, Sam had opened his eyes and could see the light from the cell phone. When he grabbed it, the time read 4:18. I've been down there in that basement for over six hours, he claimed. The battery had less than two percent left. There was no way he wanted to be in the dark again.

I knew I had to move, but I didn't know where I was, claimed Sam. That's when he noticed on the floor the drag marks in the layer of dirt. Throwing caution to the wind, Sam took off running. He said he didn't dare look around.

I could hear movement all around me, explained Sam. I just knew something was going to grab me again. He just kept his head down and moved. The stairs popped up in front of him so quickly that he fell into them.

Sam bear crawled his way up the steps; He had no intention of slowing down. Just as I slipped out the front door, my cell phone died. When I finally got home, I will admit, I broke down and cried. Then I realized Jeff wasn't back. I quickly plugged my phone in and tried calling over and over.

When Sam got done talking, we just sat there in silence for a couple of moments. "What now?" I finally asked. We all agreed on two things right then in that apartment. First, we can't tell anyone what happened. Who would ever believe us anyway? The second thing we agreed on was we would never dare each other to do anything that stupid ever again.