There is a well-known but seldom-entered building in my town; a decrepit pie factory that was abandoned god knows how many years ago. It’s certainly been empty for as long
as I can remember. Everyone has walked past it at least once, and I can guarantee that all those people have also wondered what the inside would look like. It’s not even hard to get in, there’s an
open, inviting door that’s practically begging for visitors. My brother once explored the interior with a few of his friends and took a few videos and photos on their phones, and I quickly became
interested. So one day, I think it was a Thursday, we walked right in.
I was immediately blown away. It was like stepping into an album cover. There was graffiti everywhere, there were chunks of asbestos torn off the walls lying all over the ground, we even found a couch missing all the cushions. We never found the cushions.
Most of the graffiti was completely indecipherable due to the fact that every word was layered over a myriad of different words, but my brother and I made out the words ‘Taylah Hamley is a slut’ which made us laugh because this is a girl that we both know. She is, in case you were wondering.
It became clear that for a lot of people this was a hang-out spot, of sorts, because there were empty bags of chips and mostly-empty cans of soft drink and energy drinks strewn around the floors.
I remember picking up a heavy metal pipe and brandishing it in front of me as I entered every new room. I still don’t know why. I think because I’ve been raised on a host of video games that take advantage of the kind of setting we were entering I kind of fancied the idea of a monster coming out and killing us both. Maybe not killing, maybe just attacking us would have been better.
There was one room that absolutely terrified me. It was below ground, so no natural light could cut through the blackness. We carefully crept down a rickety and probably unsafe staircase and what did we see? We saw about a metre in front of us, and that was as much light as this room would allow. So many questions ran through my mind about that single room. The obvious one being: ‘what the hell did people do in here?’ I took one step into the room and found that while my masochistic sense of curiosity had gotten me this far, it would get me no further. I’ve seen some pretty terrible things. The internet has led me to see pictures of a rape occurring, videos of a man inserting a jar into his anus until it breaks, videos of three Eastern-European men killing a man with a hammer, pictures of a man whose head had been annihilated by the rotor of a helicopter, but I could not bring myself to step even one metre further into the pitch black that was calling out to me. I took a single picture on my phone of the desolate room and left it in all its horrifying glory.
There was another room which particularly piqued my interest. I only remember two things about the room itself: there was a wooden spiral staircase; and the entire room was covered in paper. There were at least four sheets of paper covering every inch of the floor, you could hardly know where you were standing until you were already there. I don’t remember taking any photos of that one, but looking back on it, I should have. It was the only room that I truly remember that didn’t terrify me. I don’t even know why I remember it so well, we didn’t spend much time in there, and it didn’t have any particularly interesting features aside from the two that you now know. The room was just destroyed and torn apart. Why were all the papers left on the floor? I would have thought they were important.
I don’t remember much else from our little adventure. I just know that we haven’t been back since.
© Copyright 2016 Will Andrews. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Other
Miscellaneous / True Confessions
Poem / Poetry
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