Disclaimer: All names have been changed for privacy’s sake. If this does make it to the video, you do not have to read this part.
I tell this story not as a call for attention but as a cautionary tale. I was fourteen and in a scout troop, about two years ago. My scout troop was relatively small. We were camping in an area adjacent to a hill. It wasn’t tall enough to be considered a mountain, but if you fell you would probably break something, and it was super steep. This is necessary to know.
After we had pitched our tents, it was dark. It was only about 10:00 PM, so we had some time.
We all decided to climb the hill. We were scouts, so hiking was our thing. The hill was so steep, we had to bring a rope and tie it to the fence. After I made sure it wouldn’t untie at a bad time, everyone else climbed up. We walked around and found a section of fence that appeared to have been trampled over. Behind the fence, there was an old circular, concrete building.
After walking around the thing, we found an entrance. It was a small box with a ladder that went up maybe about twenty or so feet. We all climbed the ladder and found a small steel door that gained us roof access. The roof was huge. Across the roof, there was a heavy steel trapdoor. We opened it and found at least a 25 foot drop. There was a ladder, however, so us being the brave scouts we thought we were, climbed in. It was a massive cavernous area, with concrete braces holding the ceiling up, and a light blue tarp along the walls. It was incredibly dark down there, so visibility was limited.
Now, some people in my scout troop thought they were funny. So the two people standing guard on the roof closed the trapdoor. We were trapped. Then, as if something could tell that we were stuck, we began hearing a certain click click click. We all thought it was ambient noises or rocks falling somewhere, so we went on. Moments later, one of the scouts shouted “Who the hell was that?” He knew nobody was there. “Mike, what’s going on?” someone else asked. “I felt breathing on my back!” Mike was now shouting. Knives drawn, we got close together. Somewhere else we heard a laugh. Not that of someone laughing at a joke, but that of an insane person. It echoed throughout the old building. Someone turned their flashlight, and to our surprise we saw a man.
He looked homeless. His face was old and worn, his hair untidy. He was only wearing an old, ripped and stained pair of jeans. He looked as if he had not seen the sun in a long time. But the man himself only scared us a little bit. What really scared us was the knife he was holding. Keep in mind, that we saw him in the course of a second. Then he began screaming.
Thank the heavens that the screaming concerned the two people on the roof. They knew us, so they knew that we were not capable of such an ungodly noise. They opened the trapdoor one shouted “What was that?” With that, the man charged. We all ran to the ladder and hurriedly began climbing the ladder, with the first guy jumping on.
I happened to be the one in the way back. I was climbing up the fifth rung when something grabbed hold of my foot. Panicking, I swung at him. What I didn’t realize was I was holding my knife. It was, thankfully, closed, and I merely bashed him across the skull with the grip. He screamed again, and let go, thankfully allowing my escape. I climbed up the ladder, and as I surfaced onto the roof, I saw the man, bleeding on the head, climbing the rusty ladder. Just then, the door closed, trapping him in there.
Not wanting to take any chances, we ran back to the small door taking us to the room with the ladder to the exit. Again, I was the last one there, and I blocked it. I tied the bar to one of the ladder’s rungs using an old bicycle tire that was nearby. I got onto the ladder and rushed down. I met my fellow scouts over by the exit. We all silently decided to never speak of that again. We got over to the trampled fence, and made our way down. We decided to never go there again, so when the others got down, I untied the rope and slid down the hill.
The rest of the week was uneventful. But on the last night, I could have sworn I heard distant screaming. Screaming, not that of a man in pain, but that of a man who has been driven into madness.
Just remember, if you do go urban exploring, bring something to defend yourself. Had I not had my knife in my hand, I may be typing this story.