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A mans logging of his time confined within the walls of a long forgotten Insane Asylum. |
It's been a few hours now. I found...well I think it used to be a waiting room, and being as old as it is it still looks relatively untouched. I suppose the families disowned those who came here, and even though that sounds bad, the reasons people came here usually justified that choice. I've been searching for something to replace the soaked through sock that I'm wearing, but with no luck. I can't hear the groaning anymore but I'm not sure if it's really gone or not, my ears may have just grown accustom to it. Hopefully I --- ............. Sorry but.....I heard someone yell. I just kinda assumed it was Mike and went running into the halls. I didn't find anyone, and now I'm lost. I've been trained to handle myself correctly in situations like this but.....well this isn't really a normal situation. There aren't any maps around or anything, I suspect it wouldn't be smart to show the patients how to find an exit by posting little navigation signs on the walls. I don't think they ever found the exit though....in fact I'm pretty sure one of them caused the wound in my shoulder. |