Creepy Pasta

The third foor

The third floor

My friend Mark and I love exploring abandonments. We've been doing it for years, and I'm telling you, it never gets old. The constant creepy feeling, finding new areas, guessing at the history - it's almost addicting. From the first time we did it, we were hooked. Still, you can only explore houses for so long before you have to move on to something bigger, and that's what led us to what happened last year.

There was this huge abandoned hospital near us, just a few towns over. We'd never seen it ourselves, but knew that it had been abandoned for several decades, having closed down in favor a smaller, more modern one. Mark shot me down the first few times I suggested it, since he was worried about getting caught by the police. Eventually I was able to convince him though, pointing out that they'd probably just tell us to leave.

It was around 7:30 PM when we left, but it was summer, so the sun was still up. On the way there, we went over the plan one more time. The hospital was pretty isolated, and the area around it was overgrown. The idea was to drive to a parking lot about a quarter mile away. From there, we'd sneak through the bushes, and by the time we got there, it would be dark enough to walk across that last paved stretch to the front doors unseen.

When we got to the parking lot, we stood by the car for a few minutes. The road next to the lot went by the hospital, and we wanted to get an idea for the traffic (and, therefore, our chances of being seen). It seemed like our odds were pretty good: In the ten minutes we waited, only a single car went by.

Next, we checked our supplies. For each of us: a flashlight, a bottle of water, some disinfectant, a box of band-aids, and a cheap radio, for when we inevitably decided it would be creepier if we split up.

As I started for the trees, Mark tapped me on the shoulder.

"I almost forgot, I got this from the library earlier."

He reached into his backpack and retrieved a rolled up piece of paper.

"It's a map of the building, for the fire exits and stuff. You take it."

I asked, "Doesn't a map kind of defeat the purpose of exploring?"

"We'll only look at it if we have to. If one of us gets hurt, it would kind of suck to bleed to death looking for the exit."

"Alright, but why do I have to take it?"

"Because 'one of us' means me."

He had a point. In the years we'd been exploring, we'd had three total injuries. All of them were him. I put the map in my back pocket, and we started towards the hospital.

Just as planned, it was dark when we got there. Because of the surrounding trees, we couldn't make out a clear silhouette of the building against the sky. Shining our flashlights on it showed a brick exterior, and three floors. Most of the windows were broken.

The main entrance was wide open. One of the double-doors was on the ground nearby, with the other nowhere to be found. Most definitely, we were not the first people to check it out, which was expected. I don't think we've ever had to break in ourselves.

In we went.

The place was in really bad shape. The floor was covered in dirt, and most of the doors had been kicked in. There were holes in most of the walls, indicating that thieves had taken the copper wiring. There was also loads of water damage. With all of this, do I even have to mention the graffiti?

The first floor was probably the most interesting. It had the cafeteria, staff room, and, by far most interestingly, the morgue. There was even a set of tools left behind. As a rule, we don't take things from abandonments, but at that time we really wanted to. We went up the stairs to the second floor.