Apparently, Open Office Writer has given up on spellchecking all together... just so you're warned.
This is now long overdue, but as I did mention before: we did go back to the abandoned hospital in Lier. Come to think of it... I probably mentioned this in Norwegian. But since the world don't revolve around this blog, a recap is probably due anyway.
This is now long overdue, but as I did mention before: we did go back to the abandoned hospital in Lier. Come to think of it... I probably mentioned this in Norwegian. But since the world don't revolve around this blog, a recap is probably due anyway.
When we went to vitness
the demolition of the first building we visited at Lier (building A),
we also had a look at building E. This was rumoured to be the «worst»
of them all. How ever you might be inclined to interpret that
piece of information, we had come to the conclusion that B was
clearly better secured and must therefore be the one to stay away
from.
Building E was a good
choice. It felt fairly safe, so we ended up investigating all 5
floors, even the basement. All high on this little success, I
sugested that we should have a look at the B. E was so easy, this
must be a good day.
«But how do you know such
things» my mum asks me a few months later.
«I don't. I don't know
anything. Sometimes I just get the worst feeling about something.
Like you know this is a bad place to be, except you don't.»
This feeling is just like
being affraid of something very specific, only you can't really
attribut it to anything specific. I'm not saying that makes it
supernatural. Feelings is the way our subconsious mind communicates
with our consious mind. We pic up such wast amounts of informations,
there is no way for us to prosess it consiously. This could be
perfectly natural.
E made me reasonably
tense, as you should always be in such places, but B was for Bad,
apparently. I was filming this whole thing, and it still makes me
cringe just to think of watching it. As we came up to one of the
first doors, you can see me stop and almost start to reverse away
from it. I felt like I've seen something really disturbing, but then
decided I hadn't, and then entered. By the time we had covered the
northern corridor on the first floor I wanted to run away so bad. But
running always makes it worse. So we covered the souther corridor too
before walking away slowly. I was never, ever going back there. That much was clear. But
such convictions are all too fleeting. What's the worst thing that
can happen, right?
So we went back, like we
always do.
There's also a film from
the second trip. This one I've gotten used to. It's on YouTube even.
I've been told I seem so calm. So, so calm.
Don't be fooled though. It
wasn't too bad I guess.
The first stairs we
ventured up were so silent. Cracking stairs seem unreliable, but the
floors and stairs that could collaps at any given moment, those are
usually too soft for cracking, just like these stairs who stole away even the otherwise destinct sound of footsteps.
The second floor is much
like the first. We found spray paint and a metal pipe in one room.
«Look! A murderwepon!»
I did after all play
Cluedo as a kid. Besides, I remember reading somewhere that you wanna
stay clear of graffiti artists in places like this, as they're often
on edge and armed. From what I'm hearing it's also not uncommon to be
high as a scyscraper when coming here.
«Sort of looks like a
piece cut off from the fence outside, doesnt it?» I add curiously.
«So someone cut off a
piece of the fence for a make shift wepon, when whatever they used to
cut it off was probably at least as good?»
«Good point. Imagine the
cutter you would need for that job!»
On a windowsill out in the
hallway, there's more cans and a gas mask.
«Someone ran away
screaming» I assure Ramona.
Or the cans are empty and
the mask is broken. Who knows.
I start noticing after a
while that my breath fogs in some rooms. Only in a few rooms here and
there, and it's just not that cold. This is a bit weird.
In one such room,
something is dripping from the ceiling.
«What's that?... rust...
no, I mean blood»
It's a little kitchen,
directly above the one from the first visit. It's orange, the stuff
that's dripping. Rust and water I'm guessing.
«Cause blood is orange
right?» I continue, a little worried that Ramona might think I'm
being hysterical for real. This is when I notice that my breath is
fogging.
«Rotten blood is.»
«What?»
«Rotten blood is orange.
Have you never seen rotten blood?»
Ramona sounds genuinely
surprised.
«Can't say I have...»
«Well, it also smelled so
bad it almost knocked me out, so...»
«Good to know.»
A while later we're just
casually crossing a room when there's a sound. Waves of sound.
«Was that you?» I ask.
«Yeah, probably was.»
I'm not convinced, but
definetly willing to leave it alone for a while.
Monthes and monthes later,
we're in a car, on a highway. This is when I remember it.
«That sound that time at
Lier. I'm almost certain it wasnt you.»
The GoPro caught it on
tape, and you can hear that it's a bigger sound from somewhere else
in the building.
“We may not have been
alone in there. I thought we would have known though.”
“Not
nesesserily.”
“Well, I guess they could have noticed us first. Maybe it was just one person, so they would have had an advantage as far as sound goes.”
“Well, I guess they could have noticed us first. Maybe it was just one person, so they would have had an advantage as far as sound goes.”
“Or maybe they saw us
enter and had fun following us around.”
I considerd that for a
moment, deciding how creepy it would be.
“If it was me in that
situation I would have gotten the fuck out of there as quick as
possible.”
But I would never be in
that particular situation in the first place. I don't do this stupid
shit on my own. Well, not this specific kind of stupid shit anyway.
I guess we weren't too
difficult to keep track of, with Ramona uninpressed by the risks at
hand combined with my willful ignorance of anything that might scare
me too much. Also, stealth is not always a good thing in these places
as it might be better if people can hear you coming. That way they
might get the chance to reflect on their options before hitting you
in the head with a blunt metal object, rather then after.
But then again, it was
just a sound. Waves of sound. Could have been anything. Come to think
of it (and I actually only came to think of this while typing) didnt
we run into two guys outside a while earlier?
This text got to long so I've cut it in half right around here
This text got to long so I've cut it in half right around here
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