I'm from a fairly decent sized city that has quite the history. Wichita Falls, Texas. It's just south of the Oklahoma Border and about 2-3 hours northwest of Dallas. Now this town is pretty old, and you can tell anytime you go downtown. There's several abandoned buildings all over the place, some dating back to before the civil war. Our oldest high school was built in the 1890's, just to give you an idea of this town.
Now there's a lot of legends and scary stories and it's just things we've all grown up knowing. Adults tell the kids to stay away, but no one ever listens. I know I didn't in high school and I still don't today. I have gone to so many haunted spots in town I could write a book about it. The house I'm staying in now is haunted, the house I grew up in was haunted. The brand new houses around here, you can guess, are also haunted. This whole town will drain you, and the schools can be downright terrifying when you're alone. This town is just one big active, bustling ghost town.
Now, there's one place that everyone in this town has always talked about. Even if you don't hold to such nonsense, you know about White's Sanatorium. It's hard to find a lot of information on this place, except for the urban legends. It was abandoned for a long time, turned into a art-deco place until recently it was turned into a private residence. I believe it's a B&B, but I'm not too sure about that. The stories say the place was used for horrible experiments on the mentally ill and that Dr. White himself was crazy. Of course, all asylums seem to have that story, don't they?
Now when I was in high school, had a car of my own and the freedom that came with it, it was an abandoned building. The police would go there around Halloween and once in a while to make sure it stayed abandoned. But that was it, they wouldn't go out there otherwise. So, naturally as October was drawing near my friends and I had this brilliant idea to go to the sanatorium that Friday. Of course I was all for it, after theatre rehearsal of course.
So that Friday night we were all packed and ready to go. Now I was a sophomore in 2007, so we didn't have iPhones yet. We had either blackberries or the cool flip phones both who's batteries were so easy to take out. I had a blackberry. Fully charged. We brought a first aid kit and some water because while we were stupid we weren't morons. We were all excited as we drove out to the place, talking and laughing, telling ghost stories to set the mood; a mood that didn't disapate as we drove up. We pulled out my car that we cleverly hid and headed inside.
Now I wish I had pictures, but this place is both beautiful and creepy. It was dark of course, but we had flashlights and phones, but it somehow made it worse. This place has a basement that supposedly has the most activity, so naturally I wanted to go down there. All in good time of course. It was Friday! We had hours to explore to decrepit place. So off we went, giggling and sticking together. We went through room after room, the mood slowly dying. By the time we got to the door that lead to the basement our giggles had stopped. The air was musky and didn't feel right, and it was freezing, despite the lingering October heat. Nothing particularly weird had happened, much to our disappointment. Still we had the whole basement left to explore! So down the concrete steps we went.
Now the air above was musty and freezing, but it felt like the perfect spring day compared to the basement. It felt so wrong and every step I took my body screamed for me to run. There was chains hanging from the ceiling, iron rings on the walls, and rusty dark spots that could easily has been blood. Despite the fact there was no water running, we could hear the constant sounds of water dripping onto the stone floor. We silently made our way to a wall, sticking together, to look at the dark spots and try to figure out what it was.
We were just thinking about leaving when suddenly my phone started to ring. That's not abnormal of course, but as I dug in my pocket I couldn't find it. My mother would kill me if I lost my phone, so we all started to look. We couldn't find it in the basement, despite how loud the ringing was, so up the stairs we went, back to the first floor. We looked in all the rooms, the ringing even louder. We should have realised something was wrong. A phone doesn't ring that long, or that loud. It was like a stero turned up to full blast m, right next to your face, and it was getting louder and louder the closer we got to a second set of stairs, leading up to the second story. We hadn't even seen these before, and they didn't look very safe. Logic said there was no way my phone was up there. Yet, there the ringing was coming from. Well, if we all got hurt it would be bad, and since it was my phone I decided to go up myself.
I quickly went up the stairs, scared they would fall under me any moment. But they didn't, they stayed strong. The upstairs was in bad shape, so as I followed the ringing, now to a deafening volume, I was very careful and slow. If the basement was bad, the upstairs was hell. There were old guys scattered around, graffiti all over the walls, and the smell, God the smell! I had never smelled a dead body, but the upstairs had the unmistakable stench of death and decay.
In the last room of the hall was an office, or what use to be an office. There was still some books scattered around, patient files, and a small, falling apart desk. The only thing on the desk was my little red blackberry. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as everything went deathly silent. Not a single peek. No birds outside, no nice in the walls, not even the sound of wind or my pounding heart. Nothing. I was afraid to walk or speak, scared to cause noise in such a silent place. I had to get out of there, but I also had to get my phone. So I summoned all my courage and walked over to the desk. The sound of my shoes hitting the floor was almost deafening, causing my heart to race faster. I reached for my phone and picked it up, thankfully without some clique hand grabbing me. I almost started to laugh, thinking about all the horror movie tropes happening and how I was just being silly. I wanted to laugh so badly, yet when I tried to see who had called me I realised the battery wasn't even in my phone. It was sitting on the desk. The screen had been lit up when I first saw it on the desk and yet, here it was, black as the hallway behind me. There was no way on gods green earth that phone could have been ringing. I slipped my battery back in, not daring to breath. Maybe it had fallen out somehow when I had picked it up? I waited for the phone to turn on but instead all I got was the icon for a dead battery. A dead battery, when my phone hasn't been used and had been fully charged. Dead.
That's when I decided to high tail it out of there, forgetting all about the dangers of running, the possibility of something following me, all of it. I didn't even care if I fell through the floor or down the stairs, I just needed out. My friends saw my terrified face, and we all ran away, not stopping until we were in the car and a mile down the road. They didn't ask what had happened, and I didn't tell. We all had silently just agreed to forget anything had happened and never brought it up amongst ourselves again.
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