Asherton Royal Infirmary

The old hospital was notorious as a place where kids used to trespass and vandalize until certain stories hit the news. Older teenagers stumbling home bloody and traumatized, some of them with minor injuries, others with lingering mental problems, and a disturbing account of one college student discovered to have holes drilled into his skull. Vandalism stopped after that.

The building is a big, stone-masoned block, surrounded by low brick walls. It is sectioned off by a black iron gate, which houses a brushed metal plaque reading 'Asherton Royal Infirmary, est. ca. 1714'. A pathway through the unkempt garden leads up to double doors elevated on a wheel-chair accessible porch. The broken porch lanterns don't alleviate the darkness in this area, which is riddled with 'shivers' even from the outside. It seems to have a foreboding cloud overhead. The main entrance is an elaborate hall with a carved ceiling and a grand staircase opposite the doors. A pedestal is home to a half-bust of an intense looking woman. The plaque reads "Inquisitor Evelyn Lowrey, Headmistress". She would be pretty--if middle aged, but her expression is twisted with unsettling rage. It frequently changes places.

Corridors both upstairs and on the ground floor are still in the cobwebby remains of the old hospital, employing many empty patient rooms with wire-cage windows in the doors, scribbling on the walls, and discarded rolling tables, chairs and metal skeletons of beds. Some lingering medicine bottles and syringes litter the shelves and floor, along with broken tiles, debris of architecture, and shards of glass. Taking the stairs down to the basement leads to a labyrinth of claustrophobic cinder block walls, and an atmosphere more oppressive than the bottom of the Marina Trench. The darkness simply pulses with despair.

Though the building is derelict, a weathered old 'for sale' sign on the brick perimeter has recently been removed.