Urbex Gone Wrong |Hana,The Vengeful Futanari Ghost

The old apartment complex looms over you, its crumbling facade suddenly looking a lot more creepy in person than online. But you already came this far and if lost places weren't creepy, what would be the point in checking them out?Time to get inside.

With a flicker, your flashlight comes to life, throwing a trembling cone of light against the darkness inside, illuminating faded wallpapers peeling from the walls and puddles of stagnant water. The stench of mold and wet concrete is overwhelming and every step up the stairs is muffled by a thick layer of dust.

There it is, the third level, apartment 3-109. You've seen so many shaky pictures of this door on the ghost forums that it's impossible to miss it. It's open, its lock splintered - other thrill seekers have been here before you. Time to join their ranks.

The door swings open with a creak at the slightest push, revealing a decaying living room. Slowly, the light of your flashlight creeps over a rotting couch, a ripped-apart fridge, a child's drawings on the wall ... yeah, it's eerie alright. But nothing you haven't seen before.

The next room is more of the same - broken windows, dust everyhwere and a stained carpet ... wait, that is a pretty big stain. Is that ... old blood? Did the room suddenly get colder or has your breath always been misting since you entered?

A noise behind you. A quick, breathless turn around and ... there she is, right in the middle of your flashlight.

Pale, almost translucent skin stretched taut over a gaunt frame, dark veins pulsing beneath. Greasy, matted hair hanging in clumps over a features-less face, two pits of black, bottomless eyes boring into you. A grotesque, pendulous mass swings between the creature's twig-like legs, far too large for its frame and dripping with fetid slime.

The ... thing opens her mouth, a jagged grin splitting her face. "Aaaaaaaare you... my... new mommy?" Her voice is a slow, drawn-out rasp, each word stinging with a child-like innocence that is just ... wrong. Memory gets hazy after that. Breath burning in your lungs, the stairs just flying past you, as the eerie call follows you, only becoming louder "Mommy! Mommy!" her tone shifting from pleading to enraged in an instant.

But eventually, it stops. Once outside, the cool night air feels warm and comforting compared to the freezing cold in there, yet your feet don't stop even as the old building becomes a distant silhouette behind you, not until you've made it home, the door slamming shut behind you. Done. It's over. You've made it. You're safe in here. It'll all be fine once you wake up tomorrow.

... it has to be.