“Forgotten and Forbidden: 5 Abandoned Buildings with Disturbing Discoveries”
When Abandoned Places Aren’t Empty
Abandoned places have a way of lying to us.
They appear silent, forgotten—frozen in time. But sometimes, the stillness is only an illusion.
Chris and Meg, the creators behind the YouTube channel Back in Time MC, had explored countless forgotten locations before. Their passion was uncovering echoes of the past—crumbling farmhouses, decaying interiors, and spaces where human life had once thrived before vanishing without explanation. They believed they knew what abandonment looked like.
.
.
.
That belief shattered the moment they stepped into an old farmhouse.
At first glance, the house seemed deserted. Upstairs, however, something felt wrong. A bed sat neatly made, surrounded by scattered personal belongings—clothes, shoes, suitcases—as if someone had left in a hurry. Mirrors still hung on the walls. A light bulb remained screwed into the ceiling. Coins, old photographs, and even shotgun shells lay tucked inside drawers.
This wasn’t decay alone.
This was life—paused.
As they moved deeper, the atmosphere grew heavier. The air carried a foul odor. Wallpaper peeled away in long, yellowed strips. One room contained beauty-course materials and vintage cosmetics, another held a television still marked for UHF channels. Every step felt like trespassing through someone’s memories.
Then it happened.
A low sound broke the silence.
A grunt.
Before they could react, a voice spoke.
“You’re alive… you are.”
Fear surged through them. The house wasn’t abandoned.
An elderly woman named Jane emerged from the shadows. She had been living there since 1993—nearly three decades—after arriving to help someone and never leaving. The community knew of her existence. They brought food occasionally. Despite broken windows, damp blankets, and freezing nights, she refused help.
The most haunting discovery wasn’t the house itself—but the quiet resilience of a life lived unseen.
And this was only the beginning.
In another forgotten corner of the world, explorer Wade ventured into the ruins of an ancient monastery. Nature had nearly reclaimed it—walls collapsed, trees growing through stone—but fragments of the past still whispered. A newspaper dated 1963. A stove once used for warmth. An old piano abandoned in the woods, its keys exposed to rain and silence.
There were no screams here. No sudden movements.
Only time—relentless and undefeated.
But silence can be deceiving.
Urban explorer Herbex learned that firsthand when he entered an abandoned Masonic temple built in 1916. The air inside was thick with decay. Floors sagged beneath his feet. A nauseating stench lingered. Then came the music—sudden, unexplained.
Something brushed against his back.
Later, a door slammed shut behind him. Not once—but repeatedly.
Objects appeared moved. A chair he remembered was no longer where it had been. A door he didn’t recall closing refused to open. The building felt aware—responsive.
He left shaken, unanswered questions echoing louder than footsteps.
And finally, deep within a massive abandoned prison complex, Chuck from Condition Orange discovered how quickly curiosity can turn into terror. Mannequins appeared human in the dim light. Solitary confinement cells revealed unimaginable suffering. Alarms blared without warning. Doors slammed shut on their own.
Then came the horns.
Someone was there.
Security guards. Police. Trespassing warnings.
Sometimes, the danger isn’t supernatural—but very real.
Yet the most chilling story unfolded far from abandoned walls.
In 2003, at a hotel room long rumored to be strange, guests reported screams from Room 209—a room no one had checked into. When security entered, they found furniture overturned, carpet torn apart, the shower running.
No one inside.
But the camera captured something else.
A pale, smoke-like figure drifted through the doorway… and vanished.
For the first time, the whispers had proof.
Abandoned places aren’t empty.
They remember.
And sometimes, they watch.
