There is a smell down here. A lingering odor of both past and present.
In fact, if you listen carefully, you can hear water dripping somewhere.
At least I think it is water. I hope it is only water.
Watch your step though.
The light does not fill this place. There are corners that remain in shadows.
And an odd almost dark mist that somehow seems to interfere with vision.
Of some of the things
happened here, their echoes frozen in the walls. Odd stains litter the
floor. And a strangely over sized drain that every so often smells of
decay.
Sometimes it seems
there are sounds. Soft, distant, sounds. Not whispers. Not echoes. Just,
sounds. Sounds that are there and yet not.
And then there is
that one heavy door that is always locked. I’ve never seen behind it.
No I have never seen what is behind it. I am sure of this. I keep telling
myself this over and over. Ignore the wires and pipes that disappear into
the wall beside the door. They must no longer be connected. But, sometimes,
I think I hear something flowing through them. No, the door it too heavy
and old. It probably does not even open anymore. There must be nothing
there. Of this, I am sure because I keep telling myself so.
 |
| I've noticed some odd little scraps of paper around here. |
|
Blair
Witch Incident? |
