The Place Where My Nightmares Were Made

It had now been more than two years since I saw the abattoir, which sparked my interest towards abandoned buildings. I had tried entering it numerous times, but it came to nothing. I drove to the village, parked my car and walked the last hundred meters just to freeze from fear at the gates.

At this time my mental health was in an awful condition. I was battling difficult depression, had lost all self confidence and spent my days drinking beer in my bed buried in suicidal thoughts. When I finally fell asleep, it was all nightmares. In them I lost my friends, their loved ones hated them or they were killed, just because of my mistakes or inability to keep their secrets. Every night the catastrophes were different, but all dreams ended in the same way. It was afternoon and still light outside, and I had destroyed everything. I started running from my hometown. I ran and I ran and I ran, until it was dark and I was in the tiny village and stood on stairs in front of two doors. I slowly looked up and saw a white tower, and was so afraid, I was unable to move. I woke up, it was in the middle of the night and I was panicking.

I told my friends about my struggles with the abattoir, and they encouraged me to enter. They even joined me on my journeys to the village, but I just couldn’t overcome my fear. I was still left at the gates.

One night my friend had had enough. She knocked my door with three bottles of wine. She told me to drink until I had the courage to enter, and offered to drive me there, once I was drunk enough. After two hours and one bottle I said I was ready to go.

We drove an hour through the darkness and parked the car a few hundred meters away. She promised to join me on my exploration, but there was one obstacle too much for her. Just before the abattoir is a railroad overpass. Whenever a train has just passed or is about to pass, the bridge makes really strange hissing sounds, and the night train had just gone, so the bridge was pretty loud. My friend was afraid, so she decided to return to the car.

I was alone in the dark and extremely afraid. For one reason or another I started running, and ran through the gates. It had been snowing that day, but there was a clear path of fresh footprints from the gate, so someone else had been there recently. I followed the footprints and turned left behind the building. There I found this.

I had run straight to the scene of my nightmares. There I was standing on the stairs in front of two doors slowly looking up towards the tower, and I was grossly unprepared. It was pitch dark, and I only had a mobile phone without a flashlight and a small camera with me. I pulled the door handle and kept telling myself “please don’t open, please don’t open”. At first it seemed that my prayers were heard, but when I yanked the door a bit harder, it opened.

I stepped inside into complete darkness. I was so afraid, the only sounds I could hear were the blood rushing through my veins and my own heartbeat. It was completely dark, and to see something, I tried to use the camera flash.

I had entered a small space just about a meter long. Its floor was covered in old newspapers and commercials, and I was faced with two old wooden doors. I had to push them open really hard, as the floor was covered in paper even on the other side. Once I was through it, it smashed shut behind me with such a loud bang, that I thought I had woken up the whole village. Now I needed another picture to see, where I was going.

Tempting pink walls and more trash was awaiting me, as I slowly made my way up by the feel of the handrail. Every time I heard the sound of my feet hitting the paper on the floor, I startled a little.

I took more photos as I found my way higher up. The paper piles ended, but now there was shattered glass everywhere.

This was the second floor. More pink walls, thrash and steam from my breath – it was quite a cold night.

The third floor. This was as high as you could climb. I thought it would be a good idea to check one of the rooms here.

Pretty much the same as in the stairway. Trash and dirt.

The deeper I went, the more chaotic the place became. Someone had apparently tried to clean things up, but given up hope. And what on earth is that on the walls?

I also took one photo of the tower through the hatch in the roof. This was, what I was so afraid of as a child: a leaky roof, stairs, some wood and a water tank on the other side.

By now I felt complete inner peace. I sat down on the top of the stairs, went on with my second bottle of wine, and just sat there. When the blood rush and my heartbeat calmed down, I noticed, it was very quiet. I just sat and sat and never wanted out.

After 45 minutes my friend called me asking, if I was still alive.

“Do you realize, you have sat inside an abandoned abattoir for 45 minutes? Get the hell out of there”, she screamed, and I suddenly realized, where I was. I ran out, ran to the car, and we drove home in complete silence. I had overcome my fears. And I surely would come back.

Published by desertedfinland

A Finnish Urban explorer & Photographer

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