The House of Dirty Stories Part I

Although already finding two locations that day, we weren’t yet satisfied with our catch. Luckily I still had a nearby house on my list.

This one family house looked perfectly normal, and there were dozens, if not hundreds of similar ones in town. Most of them dont have Satanic symbols written on doors or broken windows, so we assumed, that this one was safe to approach. The bikes are ours, by the way.

I really don’t know how this should be interpreted. Forget Satan, concentrate on pussy?

The first thing we found upon entering was the bathroom, where almost everything possible had been smashed.

So this is the result when somebody has blue paint and too much time. I doubt that they really have any tendencies towards that cult, they’re just trying to make an impression.

The messy living room gave some indications about people spending time or even sleeping in the house. I’ve always been afraid of meeting someone there, but so far that has never happened.

I am not entirely certain about the colour choices made by the latest renovator, but I did notice that the evening sun set just about perfectly.

The cupboard is very old, probably from the 1940’s or 50’s and seems like original. Its contents had been pulled out, which explains most of the mess on the floor.

Another attempt at catching the light from the windows. There’s actually a major highway running behind the bushes, but they have grown so thick, that I’ve never seen this house despite having driven past it several times.

That sentence make absolutely no sense, and I’m not gonna waste my time trying to translate it. One word says police, the rest is just about genital organs.

Somebody has surprised the poor old stove by shoveling a stick in its mouth.

A Copy of The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, it had the house owner’s name written on the front page before I did a little magic on Lightroom.

A look through the window to the porch. It had probably been quite nice to sit there in the evening sun in the prime era of this house.

An collection of old newspapers. Like I said, I’ve worked for that company, and I’ve sort of always wanted to find myself in an abandoned house. I’ve found my own shift lists while roaming through my old workplace during its demolition, but never anything else. Of course in these papers it would be impossible. I was hardly born, when these have been printed.

In the mess in the hallway we found some cleaning equipment. The toilet is in such a disorder, that I doubt WC Duck makes an impact anymore.

Among the mess on the living room floor was a collection of telephone and electric bills from the shift of the century as well as an old religious magazine.

In the next post we’ll explore the kitchen.

Published by desertedfinland

A Finnish Urban explorer & Photographer

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