URBAN EXPLORATION
&
THE CURSE OF CHILLINGHAM CASTLE
by
Pete Rossi
URBAN EXPLORATION
&
THE CURSE OF CHILLINGHAM CASTLE
Copyright 2011 by Pete Rossi
This book is dedicated to my mate Derek, who provided help and advice which has made this book a hell of a lot better than it was going to be.
Contents
Urban Exploration
An abandoned Victorian mental asylum, derelict for decades, sits in the middle of the English countryside. Three University graduates decide to explore the decaying ruin one summer day. A week later, one of them returns for a second visit. Will this trip go as planned?
Curse of Chillingham Castle
Chillingham Castle is one of the most haunted places in England, with a long and bloody past. Over from America on their first European holiday, tourists Mark and Susie take a detour to the atmospheric castle. It was a decision that they would later regret. Life for them will never be quite the same again.
Urban Exploration
It was a lively late Saturday evening, ticking slowly on toward Sunday morning. I had been in the pub with my mate Doug for a few hours. We met at University and had stayed firm friends in the three years since we graduated. We were seated in the corner - close enough to the bar to be easily able to get over to order our next round, but close enough to the exit in case it all kicked off again. Which it invariably did in this place.
"Nice to get out for an evening," Doug said to me.
"Yeah," I replied. "Even if it's just to this dump."
We came here because of the location rather than the atmosphere. During the day it could be quite pleasant, but on a Saturday night the place came alive, usually for all the wrong reasons. It was crowded. A blonde in high heels tottered past, giving me a grin as she tried not to drop the three full pints she was holding on to. I reckoned within the hour the place would be crawling with police. Again.
"That's what you need, mate," Doug said, indicating toward the girl. "Someone like that to come home to."
"I've got someone," I replied, grimacing. "Bev."
"Ah, the lovely Bev," Doug said. "What do you see in her?"
"Bev's not bad," I said, swallowing another mouthful of lager. "Okay, she doesn't look quite as good as she did, she can't cook, won't clean the house, sits around all day doing nothing and getting fat." I paused, then grinned. "Maybe you're right!"
"Me and Jim are off out tomorrow. We're going to explore York View Hospital. You could come with us."
"Can't. Got to go to Bev's mums."
"Come on! Let her go by herself. It will be a great day out. Like we used to have. Before you met Bev. We were wild then."
I glanced up as two girls in very short skirts skipped past. One gave me a wink and licked her lips. Maybe I could do with someone like that. I watched her legs as she walked away, knowing I was watching her.
"What do you mean by explore?" I asked Doug.
"Right. That's settled then. See you at six, bright and early. Bring your camera."
***
At five forty five the next morning I woke up. Bev was snoring as I silently got out of the bed. Quite easily actually, as she had the duvet mostly on her side as normal. Really didn't want to wake her. Haven't been up at this time on a Sunday morning for years. I peered through the bedroom curtains, careful not to let too much light in. All was quiet outside. I wondered what I was letting myself in for. Still, it had to be better than going round to Bev's mum’s. Anything was better than that. Seeing Bev’s mum made me think of what Bev would be like in twenty years, and that was not a pleasant thought. Bev had been asleep when I arrived back a few hours earlier so I hadn't actually told her that I'm not going with her today. Bet that will be the start of yet another argument.
I made a quick bathroom visit, forcing myself to miss out on a shower in case it woke Bev, and grabbed a snack from the kitchen. I rearranged the fridge magnets to say "GONE OUT." Seconds later, I saw lights on the road as Doug arrived with Jim in his battered blue Citroen. I locked up the house and walked down the driveway to the car. The lawn could do with mowing again. That was another of the jobs I had to do round the house.
"Morning mate," said Jim as I got in the back seat.
"Hi Jim, Doug."
With a squeal of tyres Doug pulled away. I rubbed my eyes. Still tired. "What we doing anyway?"
"Told you last night," Doug replied. "Going to explore the old York sanatorium."
"What we're doing, mate," Jim said, "is called urban exploration."
"What's that?" I asked.
"Look, there are abandoned derelict buildings all over the country. Factories that went out of business years ago, old holiday camps that have been closed since the seventies, schools left abandoned going to seed, mental asylums from the 1900s."
"Yeah, so."
"It's huge, man. We go and explore these places before they get knocked down. We take photos and post reports on the Internet. It's the next big thing. And it’s great fun."
It'll be better than going to Bev's mum's anyway, I thought. What wouldn't. "And how do we get in? They'll be boarded up, locked down surely."
"Nah," said Jim, shaking his head. "No one cares about them any more. They're just left to rot. And even if they are patrolled by security guards, we can give them the slip."
Security guards. This didn't seem to be turning out like I thought it would.
Jim could see I looked worried, although at that time, I couldn't have said whether it was the upcoming exploration or Doug's driving that was concerning me the most. If there were any police about, I was pretty sure they would be interested in Doug's car control, or lack of.
"Don't sweat, man," Jim said. "We explore these places. We don't smash them up, we don't graffiti everywhere, don't break in if we can't get easy access. If we can't get in easily, we go somewhere else."
I still didn't look convinced. "Was like this on my first time too," Doug piped up, cutting a corner.
Jim continued. "Okay, we have to be careful, but it'll be cool."
"Have to be careful?" I echoed.
"Yeah. Old buildings can be dangerous. Ceilings will have come down, floors might give way under you, rooms will have been burnt out by the local chavs, there's always the worry of asbestos. Needles, all sorts. And you don't want to break your leg or something and get stuck. We can't exactly call for an ambulance."
This was sounding worse by the minute. "Guys, don't know if I'm up for this," I said.
"We're more than halfway there. Not turning around now." Doug banged the steering wheel before accelerating around another corner.
Doug's driving was not the best, and it had only been a few hours since we were downing pints one after another, so I let him concentrate on his driving the rest of the way. The roads were deserted, but that didn't stop him from nearly sideswiping a Renault after a particularly sharp bend.
I settled in for the rest of the journey.
***
Half an hour later, we arrived. Jim directed Doug down a side road until a barbed wire fence stopped our progress. "Park behind that tree," Jim said. "Got to keep the car out of view." There were signs on the fence which featured stark warnings in huge red letters of prosecution for trespassers. They included pictures of salivating Dobermans.
"Been here once before," Jim said. "If we walk by the fence a bit there's a cut through. Local chavs made it. Don't want our virgin explorer ripping his coat before we even get in. We walked slowly along by the fence, keeping a look out for security.
"Don't worry. Won't be any dogs. They just put them on the signs to try and scare you off." Nearly worked, I thought.
"It's huge this place. It's been closed for fifty years, but there's loads still inside. We could easily spend the whole day here, and still have lots we haven't seen."
"Do you know much about this place?"
"Did a search on the net. It's pretty wrecked inside."
Crunching up the gravel driveway, it wasn’t long before I got my first look at the place. From a hundred yards away, I could see it was four stories high. The stonework was blackened from over a century’s dirt. From fifty yards away, I could make out turrets and gargoyles on the imposing structure. Almost all of the windows were broken, tattered curtains flapping through some of the smashed panes.
From ten yards away, we were close enough for the building to block the warm morning sunlight. The structure loomed above us. It seemed to be leaning over us, as though it wanted to take us in. "Welcome to Hell" was scrawled over the entrance. Surprisingly, it was spelt correctly. The original door was long gone though. A dirty sheet of thick metal, covered in names and offensive messages was up in its place. Underfoot, glass crunched. We would have to find another way in.
There was a smell of burning in the air. I got the feeling that the local fire brigade knew this place well.
We snapped off a few pictures. So sad to see a fantastic Victorian building sitting like this. Wouldn't be surprised if they tore the whole place down or turned it into luxury flats. Still, that would be better than it burning which looked like what would be its fate.
We walked past the door and peered in through one of the smashed window panes. Couldn't see much inside though. If we can't get in any other way we could try and get in here, but the local chavs must have a better route than this. Jim signalled to keep us moving. We carried on and walked round to the back of the main building. A greenhouse used to be here, but nothing would be growing in this place again. There seemed to be about six inches of glass underfoot, with thick weeds sprouting up all over the place. Needles as well. We had our boots on, so had a reasonable chance of getting through without impaling our feet on the sharp glass shards that were sticking up everywhere.
Extreme caution was needed. To slip and fall in a place like this would not be good. Another vital supply - apart from our lunch - wish I had thought to bring more than just a snack - is the first aid kit Jim had. I say kit, but what I really mean is a few plasters, a box of Paracetamol and a flask of whisky. There's no way a regular ambulance would be able to get here, and I know the police would take a pretty dim view of why we were here. Mind you, the place is so wrecked that there's little more we could do to cause more damage short of incinerating it.
We carefully made our way through the greenhouse, glass crunching under each foot fall.
"Great fun this," Doug said.
At least somebody was enjoying themselves. I was still feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Never liked the idea of getting a six inch shard of glass through my foot, or getting my leg opened up by a hungry dog. "Could have told me it would be like this," I complained. "Would have dressed better."
"Stop complaining. You'll be alright," said Jim.
"Yeah. Enjoy yourself," Doug concurred.
At the other end of the greenhouse was a door hanging on its hinges. We went through and arrived into a huge room.
"This is the Great Hall," Jim told me. "Enough room in here to hold all the staff and patients."
Again, the whole place was pretty trashed. In its day, the room would have been magnificent. Carvings on the ceiling, a marble floor, oak wood panelling, a stage where some of the less disturbed victims would put on shows. I would say patients, but don't think that's appropriate. All of it pretty much gone. Burnt away, blackened and covered in obscene graffiti and more crude and improbable drawings of body parts. I could imagine how it must have been in its heyday. These chavs have a lot to answer for.
"Is it all like this?" I asked.
"Pretty much," said Doug. "State of this country. Leave something for six months, and it'll be wrecked, burnt or stolen."
I sniffed. The smell of smoke was in the air still. It did look as though the locals had a weekly sport of trying to burn the whole place down, but for some reason had never succeeded. Not through lack of effort though. There were obvious seats of fire on the stage and in some of the corners of the room. A burnt pushchair was sat in the middle of the floor with remains of a plastic doll melted down the side. Jim snapped off some more pictures for the website.
"It's sad. Shame to see a place like this treated this way."
"Same as anywhere, now," Doug replied. "Used to be just in the major cities that places like this got trashed, but it's everywhere now. Fancy braving the stairs?"
***
Up or down? Up won. The stairs didn't look too bad to be honest. Back when this place was made, things were built to last. Up we went, taking care as we walked through the rubbish. Old Coke cans, a dirty pink teddy bear, patient records strewn all over the place. More needles. Looking up, I could see the sky through the holes in the floors above us. A pigeon flew in our direction, and I jumped out of its way, startled.
"Dirty things," Jim said. "Don't let them get near you. Got diseases and all sorts."
"Could say the same thing about most of the girls I see you with," countered Doug, laughing.
We walked through a room that contained the remains of old metal beds. A hideous wheelchair with manacles on the armrests and a ripped seat with no stuffing left in stood in the middle of the room. "Just imagine being here in that thing," I said. "Glad I didn't live a hundred years ago."
"No way I would have survived years ago," Jim said. "Imagine life without net porn."
There was an old newspaper, gently fluttering in the breeze from the smashed windows. November 1904, it said. There were still bottles with drugs long crumbled to dust, a tattered nightgown on the ground. Dozens of empty cans were strewn about the floor. "Must have been a party in here, sometime," I said.
"Heard there's something happens every Halloween. Place is supposed to be haunted, and the locals come down to scare themselves shitless and get pissed every year." Doug looked out the window. "No sign of anyone today though. Got the place to ourselves."
Leaving the room, we continued on. We walked through the deserted wrecked rooms and came out in to a big space. It looked like a children’s ward - but surely they didn't have children in this place did they?
"Know what you're thinking," Jim said. "Place creeped me out the first time I saw it. Surprising what a peeling mural of Daffy Duck on the wall and blackened toys can do to you. Yeah, they did have children here. Not normal children though."
He sniffed. "Did a bit of research. There was a little kid in the 1890's that set fire to his house. Killed his parents and three brothers and sisters. Didn't survive in this place long though. He was in here for a few weeks, and couldn't take it. Teased and taunted every day, he was. Jumped out that window there." He indicated right. "Supposed to still be able to hear him crying at night. True story. Saw it on the net."
"If it's on the net, must be true," I replied.
We walked back along the corridor and came to some open doors. I was about to step through when Jim caught my shoulder and pulled me back. "Got to keep alert, man," he said. I looked down. We were standing at the top of an empty lift shaft. Looking up I could see the sky, blue and clear. Looking down, I could see all the way to the bottom. Tangled wreckage was all I saw down there. Must have been about a thirty foot drop, with no sign of the lift car anywhere.
"Know where to take you next. The morgue," Doug said.
Heading down, we took another set of stairs at the back of the building. Whereas the main staircase was once both open and opulent, this way down was anything but. It was a tight metal spiral staircase which clanged loudly as we trudged down. Some of the fixings of the metal struts were breaking away from the stone walls. I breathed a sign of relief as I m
ade it off the bottom step, but that feeling of relief didn’t last long as we entered the morgue.
We were below ground level now. The morgue was cluttered with decaying, rusted furniture. A huge furnace stood in one corner. I couldn't help the shiver that went down my spine, and I could see that Doug didn’t like it in here either. Jim was having a great time though.
"Just imagine being in there," he said. "Burned alive. They did that you know!"
Jim nodded to Doug. Must have been a secret signal. They took me completely by surprise, Jim going for my legs and Doug manhandling me over until I was on the floor. They tried to get me toward the furnace. "Get him in there," Doug laughed. "See how you like it!"
I struck out with my right hand in an attempt to throw them off. It hit Doug, who increased the pressure on my neck. "Guys," I groaned. It came out as an indistinct moan, not loud enough for either of them to hear.
My left leg became free for a second, and I kicked out. Missing both Doug and Jim, it connected with the leg of a table. My foot snapped the brittle metal. One half of the leg pinged off to our right. Unbalanced, the table tipped forwards and showered us with its contents. A scalpel, covered with dry blood, embedded itself in the floor inches from my face. A glass bottle, filthy knives, their blades dirty and black, and glass apparatus I couldn’t even identify landed on us, and around us.
Jim let go. "Stop, Doug," he cried. "Enough. We can’t risk any injuries in this place."
Getting to my feet and rubbing my neck I shouted, "Guys. You bastards. What the hell did you do that for?"
"Initiation. First trip out with a virgin explorer, we always do something like that."
"Not appreciated, guys," I snapped back.
"Gives you a sense of the terror of this place though, doesn’t it."
It certainly did. No way would I want to be stuck injured in this place, left alone. Food for thought.
"No hard feelings, mate." Jim stuck out his hand, expecting a shake. Didn’t get one.
This place was seriously creepy. To think of the dead bodies that have been taken down here, the experiments that probably went on, and the furnace where the bodies were burnt creeped me out, made me nervous. I don't think I would be able to stand it in here at night, whether I was alone or not.