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Description
The House Of The Damned.

What appeared before us as an only way further, was a narrow messy corridor, in its depth bleak uncertain lights danced in pitch black darkness. It seemed to have no end. But that wouldn't be really that disturbing if the smell didn't suddenly change. It didn't smell of cold deadly decay anymore. No. Much worse.
It smelled of booze and vomit.

Suddenly the clouds above us burst. Gallons of rain dropped on the building, and attacked the only (glassless, of course) window on the stairway.
No way back now...

So we proceed. Into the stench and total darkness.
Maria hopped forward enthusiastically, while I tried to prowl, which resulted in me doing some kind of a grotesque dance, exaggerating each movement, not to be heard at all costs. For even before I saw the first mattresess, chairs, pieces of clothing and almost-empty bottles, I knew where I was getting myself into... I've seen this before...

We were just breaking into somebody's house.

Yet with each step I slowly began to comprehend it wasn't just "somebody's" house...
The narrow corridor had no light source of its own, the only dim light came from sporadical windows in neighboring rooms, most of them covered by cardboard and junk. Heavy rainwater was flowing, flowing, dripping, dripping. It wasn't a comforting tune for someone who awaited danger from every corner. In fact, one couldn't even be sure of the ground below, that was arching down with every press of a foot.
This corridor really didn't end. This corridor continued on and on. This corridor had rooms on each side. And each room was somebody's den.

Full true chilling story here -> [link] .

Shot into complete darkness, just to check if someone (or something) is on the other end..

Description
The House Of The Damned.

What appeared before us as an only way further, was a narrow messy corridor, in its depth bleak uncertain lights danced in pitch black darkness. It seemed to have no end. But that wouldn't be really that disturbing if the smell didn't suddenly change. It didn't smell of cold deadly decay anymore. No. Much worse.
It smelled of booze and vomit.

Suddenly the clouds above us burst. Gallons of rain dropped on the building, and attacked the only (glassless, of course) window on the stairway.
No way back now...

So we proceed. Into the stench and total darkness.
Maria hopped forward enthusiastically, while I tried to prowl, which resulted in me doing some kind of a grotesque dance, exaggerating each movement, not to be heard at all costs. For even before I saw the first mattresess, chairs, pieces of clothing and almost-empty bottles, I knew where I was getting myself into... I've seen this before...

We were just breaking into somebody's house.

Yet with each step I slowly began to comprehend it wasn't just "somebody's" house...
The narrow corridor had no light source of its own, the only dim light came from sporadical windows in neighboring rooms, most of them covered by cardboard and junk. Heavy rainwater was flowing, flowing, dripping, dripping. It wasn't a comforting tune for someone who awaited danger from every corner. In fact, one couldn't even be sure of the ground below, that was arching down with every press of a foot.
This corridor really didn't end. This corridor continued on and on. This corridor had rooms on each side. And each room was somebody's den.

Full true chilling story here -> [link] .

Shot into complete darkness, just to check if someone (or something) is on the other end..