Loading summary
Transcript3 lines
- [00:00]
A
Hey, Medical Mysteries Fans, it's me, Mr. Ballin. Back when I was just getting started as a storyteller, I often looked for inspiration from other creators in the storytelling world, and one of those I kept coming back TO was a YouTube channel called Bedtime Stories. When we launched Ballin Studios, Bedtime Stories was one of the very first shows we turned into a podcast. Hosted by the brilliantly creepy Richard Weil, a British storyteller with a knack for making even the most ordinary moments feel utterly sinister, the Bedtime Stories podcast brings you the kind of narratives that stick with you long after you finish listening. From unsolved Mysteries to cryptid legends to chilling paranormal encounters, every episode delivers not one, but two stories. That means twice the thrills and twice the terror. I'm about to play you one of my personal favorite Bedtime Stories podcast episodes. It's called Dark and Abandoned, and it takes you inside an eerie, supposedly empty hospital where truly bizarre and unsettling things unfold. After you listen, please go follow and start binging Bedtime Stories wherever you get your podcasts. New episodes drop every Wednesday.
- [01:06]
B
The Hospital that Never Was There are numerous instances in which facilities originally intended to provide care and support have instead become places of darkness and suffering. In the capital of Russia, there is just such a place, a building designed to be one of the country's leading medical facilities but destined to become a source of misery. When the doors which led from the street outside into the front office opened, the duty sergeant didn't even bother to look up from his newspaper. The sensors situated up above the entrance were so sensitive they were often triggered by passing cars rather than people entering the building. It was not until he heard a low cough that he lowered the paper to find an elderly woman standing there cautiously regarding him. In a blunt tone, the officer asked the woman why she was there at such a late hour, adding that for her sake it had better be a matter of significant importance. Her nervous reply was that she came in search of help, looking for a policeman to assist her in trying to locate her dog, which had gone missing. Making no effort to hide his indignation, the sergeant told her that all of his officers were busy dealing with actual crimes, ordering her to instead enlist the help of her friends or family. Undeterred, the visitor replied that she had nobody else she could turn to, and even if she did, she very much doubted that they would accompany her into the nearby derelict Govrina Hospital. At the mention of the abandoned building, the sergeant's eyes narrowed, folding the newspaper and lying it flat on the desk he leant forwards and replied, saying that nobody under any circumstances should be entering that place. If her dog had strayed there, then it was almost certainly dead and that should be the end of the matter. But the elderly visitor was not to be dissuaded, unsuccessfully appealing several more times for help, only leaving when she was finally threatened with arrest for wasting police time. Going back to his newspaper, as the old woman shuffled out through the doors and into the street, the officer shook his head in frustration. The sooner that place was demolished by the city authorities the better, because all it had generated for the local police was was an unending saga of violent and unspeakable crimes. It would not be until a week later that the desk sergeant would learn the fate of his unwanted visitor. Despite his warnings, she had indeed gone off in search of her missing pet alone, only to later be discovered in both horrifying and mystifying circumstances. Having historically suffered from a lack of adequate healthcare services during the 1970s, approval was given by the authorities in Moscow for the construction of a modernized medical facility. It was decided that the capital's new hospital would be located within the city's northern Kovrina district, not far from the Likhaporka River. From the outset, there was speculation amongst many of those involved in the project that its ambition may well have outstripped the ability to deliver it. The budget which had been allocated was deemed insufficient for the completion of a 10 storey building, one which was being designed to hold up to 1300 patients. Alongside this, closer inspection of the area designated for the construction had indicated that it was a wetland site, posing a significant risk of flooding and subsidence. But the planners who had been appointed the task were not to be deterred and during the summer of 1980, construction of the project finally commenced. Neighbours and passers by would spend the next few months watching on as the gigantic hospital gradually began to rise from the ground. Constructed around a three raid star plan and designed using harsh brutalist architecture, the building resembled something out of a science fiction or horror movie. But after two years of graft, with the building's outer shell having been completed, work at the site suddenly ground to an unexpected halt. At subsequent public meetings, questions were asked as to how the funds which had been set aside for the building work had already been spent. It was then related that the site was previously used as a graveyard by the city, which had been closed down and covered over by the authorities during the late 1960s. This had resulted in the basement levels of the building continually being flooded, causing large amounts of the budget to be spent on their repair, ultimately bankrupting the project. Despite repeated appeals for additional funding, work would never recommence at the site, and for the next 36 years it would stand dormant, having never been used to treat a single patient. On the contrary, it soon acquired an unwanted legacy of death and misery for those who elected to walk beyond its perimeter. Although guarded against theft and vandalism during the early days of its abandonment, funding for security at the derelict building soon ran dry. With ever greater numbers of explorers making their way through the wire fencing, which had begun to fall into disrepair, calls to the local police inevitably increased. The building's internal structure had never been fully completed, and as it began to degrade over time, more and more of those who ventured inside suffered misfortune or injury. As months turned to years, the remains of drunks and vagrants who had died whilst sheltering from the elements at the site were discovered and reported by others who trespassed there. There were also several instances in which the bodies of murder victims were found to have been deposited within the grounds, leading to concerns of a possible slew of serial kill. Then, in 1985, the community was rocked by the discovery of another dead body at the derelict hospital, one that belonged to a well known and beloved local pensioner. The old lady in question had been the owner of a small dog which had run off from her while she had been walking it in the vicinity of the abandoned site. Summoning up the courage to follow, she had made her way into what would have been the reception area of the building. But in doing so, she had recoiled in disgust, finding it littered with the corpses and bones of several other dogs and smaller animals. Some of these had been tied up and then killed, whilst others seemed to have been torn apart or dissected after they had died. All of this bloodshed appeared to have been carried out by human hands. At this point, conscious of the dangers of wandering through the degrading building, but still worried about her missing pet, she had turned to the local police. But on attending the police station, she had been turned away by the officer on duty there, who told her that they were too busy to help and advised her against returning to the site. Sometime later, a group of boys who had decided to explore the basement levels of the building had come across something floating in a large crater full of water. It was the body of the old lady, which had clearly been lying there for quite some time prior to its discovery. But when staff at the local mortuary were called to recover the victim's remains, they discovered horrific injuries on the woman's body. Both of her legs had been broken and shattered, along with similarly massive injuries to her back and lower torso, almost as if she had been dropped from a great height. And yet the room in which she had been found was fully enclosed within the vicinity of the flooded basement, meaning that it was impossible for her to have come to rest in the crater of her own accord. The Moscow police would find themselves in a similarly perplexing situation in 2005, when they were asked to search the abandoned site for a missing person. They had been contacted by the family of a 16 year old named Alexei Kraushkin, a popular boy who was known amongst his friends as Edge. Alexei suffered from both anxiety and depression during his life, and on this occasion had gone from his home, leaving a suicide note in his room on talking to his friends. His family had then contacted the police to state that Alexei had been a regular visitor to the derelict hospital and was seemingly quite fond of the sight. Several officers were duly dispatched to the building, and an initial search quickly located the missing teen's personal effects upon the 8th floor floor. With his rucksack having been left next to a set of open lift doors, it was naturally assumed that the youth's body would be found lying at the bottom of the unfinished shaft. But when the officers made their way back down to the ground floor, they were frustrated to find nothing but rubble and debris at the bottom. It would take several more hours of searching before Alexei's remains were discovered lying in a side room on the hospital's second floor. Again, just like the elderly lady before him, he had suffered from catastrophic injuries, which had apparently been sustained after a severe fall. And yet how his body had then apparently been relocated in a small enclosed room situated two floors above could not be explained with any degree of conviction. Despite police warnings, several of Alexei's friends subsequently reattended the site after his funeral and held their own private vigil for him. A series of murals and paintings were completed in the room where he had been found, but it soon became apparent that this would not be his only legacy. Instead, there were multiple reports to the police from teens who had been exploring the building and claimed to have been disturbed by a glowing entity. Its outline was described as resembling a tall and slender male, and it was sighted either in the vicinity of the eighth floor lift shaft or the room on the second floor where Alexei had been found. It seemed to be aware that it was being observed by those it encountered and would immediately turn and walk away from visitors passing directly through both solid walls. And other obstacles that rested in its path. It was said to disappear from view as quickly as it appeared. Other stories which have circulated throughout the local community, make mention of a trio of teens who were found slain at the site at some point during 2006. There is also the tale of an urban explorer whose body was discovered, twisted and broken, at the bottom of one of the empty lift shafts in 2011. The exact number of people to have been found deceased at Hovrina Hospital remains difficult to verify, as the city authorities have repeatedly refused to release any official figures. They have also declined to comment on another haunting story commonly associated with the building's history, that related to the activities of a sinister group which over time has come to be known as Nemosta. It is believed that during the mid-1990s, this group of occultists adopted the empty structure as their base of operations and held satanic rituals in the rooms of the basement levels. When local residents began to link the bizarre and unknown nocturnal activities of this group with the bodies that had been found at the site, great pressure was placed upon the authorities to act. As a result, a police unit known as Omon, or Omon, was directed to resolve the issue and was granted authority to use any means they deemed necessary to do so. The officers tasked with this assignment spent some time conducting surveillance of the abandoned building until they came to a point where they were satisfied that the cult members had assembled. It is alleged that they then stormed the building, herding the cultists far down into the basement levels where they were dispatched and their remains hidden away below the flood waters. Depending on whereabouts, one might inquire within the surrounding area. Different theories abound as to what took place within the cursed walls of Hovrina Hospital. Nobody knows for sure if the deaths which occurred there were the result of supernatural activities or the grim deeds of a human killer, but everybody seems to have an opinion. Some Muscovites blame the cultists, claiming that the number of bodies being discovered at the building site dropped drastically once the police had acted aggressively against the Namoster sect. Others believe that the deaths were the work of a serial killer, or worse, a group of killers who may have been working together, either using the abandoned building as a place to commit their crimes or as somewhere to display their grisly trophies to one another. Finally, for some, the fact that the land which was repurposed for the construction was a former cemetery is perhaps the true cause of the horrors that took place there. With the spirits of the dead rising from their graves and electing to punish the living who trespassed for the destruction and desecration of their burial site. Sadly, the possibility of investigating any of the other deaths which are believed to have occurred there has now passed. After many years of reported tragedy at the abandoned facility, the site and everything that was standing upon it was finally sold off to a private company in 2018. In October of that year, the building's superstructure was eventually demolished before being completely cleared away, removing all trace of the hospital once and for all, along with its sinister and mysterious past. Story 2 Toulon There are countless stories of mysterious hauntings which have been reported in the aftermath of high profile accidents and infamous crimes. In this story, we will be visiting one such location, an abandoned building in Manila that was once the scene of a tragic loss of human life. A location where the spirits of the dead continue to reach out to the living forever in search of help. In January of 1981, it was announced by the government of the Philippines that a large amount of funding had been set aside for an extensive national media project. This proposal was the brainchild of the first lady at the time, Imelda Marcos, and was specifically designed to raise the global profile of the country's film industry. It would involve the creation of a new international film festival, the foundation of a laboratory to develop new filming techniques, and the creation of a permanent film archive. Key to the success of the whole programme would be a national media centre constructed in the heart of the capital, which would play host to all the other individual components. But whilst the majority of those who read the proposals were enthusiastic, doubts surrounding the projected cost and time frames were soon raised. In order to stay within the $25 million budget and meet the date of the new film festival, it would be necessary to complete construction of the media center within 12 months. Ignorant of her critics, project leader Betty Benitez announced the employment of 4,000 labourers who had immediately commenced work on the media center. Continually working in three shifts over a rolling 24 hour period, the workforce threw themselves into the task, quickly silencing those who had been skeptical of the timeline. The building's main lobby, which should normally have taken up to six weeks to construct, was ultimately completed within a mere 72 hours. But on November 17, just as the project was nearing completion, the dangers inherent in working at such a breakneck pace would be brutally exposed. At around 3am, several of the building's newly constructed upper floors collapsed, along with the temporary reinforcement which had been put in place to support them. Hundreds of workers either fell to their deaths, were crushed beneath the falling debris, or became impaled upon the jagged metal remains of the scaffolding they had been working on. The collapse had been caused by a miscalculation in the amount of concrete which had been poured that evening. And as the surviving workers ran to help, a further danger presented itself. In addition to having been too heavy for the scaffolding to support, the excess amount of concrete had not been able to dry as quickly as it would otherwise have done. Many of the would be rescuers soon found themselves trapped alongside their immobilized colleagues as the concrete they were walking through began to harden around their legs. Upon her arrival at the site in the aftermath of the accident, Benitez had quickly given orders for the military to cordon off the scene, stating that a total media blackout should be enforced. And it soon became apparent that her main priority was to ensure construction resumed as soon as possible, rather than affecting the rescue of the dead and dying. When it became clear that there was no rapid way to free those trapped within the concrete, orders were given to remove them from the site by any means possible. Trapped limbs were severed with labourers carried screaming from the rubble, the rudimentary tourniquets which had been applied failing to stop their severe bleeding. The bodies of those who had died, which were deemed too difficult to retrieve, were similarly dismembered or simply left in situ, with fresh concrete swiftly poured over them. Despite the loss of an estimated 170 workers, construction was quickly resumed with a ruthless and brutal efficiency. As a result, the centre went on to open in time for its maiden film festival, which took place during the final week of January 1982, with those in attendance having little to no idea that the foundations they were walking upon contained the remains of those who had died during its construction. Almost immediately, rumors and stories about mysterious happenings which were taking place during the film festival started to circulate amongst the local community. The organisers received calls from a number of female visitors who complained that their dresses had been stained with what appeared to be wet concrete or in some cases, blood. But despite a number of methodical checks of the building, no visible weaknesses in the concrete could be found or any secretions which resembled the marks seen on the dresses. Alongside this, a number of ambulances ended up being called to attend to some of the guests who had suffered what presented as temporary or passing medical episodes. Several visitors reported feeling extreme chills that were so overwhelming in their nature that they incapacitated them for a short period of time. In other cases, festival attendees stated that they had experienced a sudden and overpowering crushing sensation on their chests. These patients had fallen to the ground, crying out that they were being trapped or pinned before. The symptoms then subsided just as quickly as they had begun. So disconcerting were these reports that when the building had closed one evening, Betty Benitez quickly arranged for several priests to attend the site. These holy men were ordered to identify and neutralize whatever was causing the discomfort experienced by those attending the film festival. The following morning, the priests left, stating they had done all they could to appease the spirits of those who had died during construction, but that they could not remain any longer. Despite these issues, the center's inaugural film festival was later deemed to be a complete success, having attracted high profile celebrities from all around the globe. It also led to a massive expansion of the Philippines film industry with movies exported around the world and several awards being received by the country's actors. But this success would be somewhat short lived when the government pulled the funding which had initially been promised. After the festival, the building would go on to be abandoned for lengthy periods of time, where it soon began to fall derelict due to the poor construction techniques which had been employed alongside her creation. Betty Benitez would also be the victim of an unexpected and harrowing degree of misfortune. One evening, whilst being driven home from her office by a colleague, the car she was travelling in had left the carriageway and collided with an adjoining wall. When police later arrived at the scene, the man who had been driving the vehicle was recovered completely uninjured, whereas Benitez was found alongside him in the passenger seat, crushed to death by the vehicle's crumpled interior. One bizarre incident reported to have transpired inside the building was also rumoured to have taken place during the inaugural film festival. After closing, as the cleaning crews were tidying up from the day's events, several armed men arrived on site. It was explained that these were members of the presidential support group sweeping the building ahead of a visit from the first lady which was taking place the following morning. But not long after the security staff had arrived, there was a sudden commotion and the cleaners were herded into one of the theatres at gunpoint. A headcount was carried out before it was then demanded that whoever had been playing tricks on the government officers step forward. It was only once they had been released that the cleaners caught sight of one of the agents being led off site in a distressed state by his colleagues. They later learned that the bodyguard had been checking around the lower levels of the building when he caught sight of a movement in the darkness ahead of him. On issuing a challenge, he observed a shadowy figure running away and immediately drew his weapon and gave chase. He followed the figure along several corridors when it suddenly disappeared directly through a closed door. Approaching the doorway, torch and sidearm in hand, the agent had tried the door handle, but found that it was locked. Having used his radio to call for backup, he then kicked the door open and burst into the room, only to find that it was completely empty. Standing alone in the dark space, his torch beam flitting from wall to wall, the security officer suddenly experienced a freezing sensation which completely paralyzed him. Then, out of nowhere, a disembodied and hushed voice whispered a single word directly into one of his ears. Too long. The Filipino word for help. As more officers arrived to assist him, they found their colleague backed into one corner of the empty room, his gun up and waving around from side to side, scared out of his wits. Following a major earthquake which rocked the country in the summer of 1990, the Manila Film Centre was abandoned altogether and stood unoccupied for many years. Throughout this period, groups of local youths would regularly go onto the site, exploring the vacant theaters and seeing if anything of value had been left behind. One of the most haunting tales associated with the building involved one such group who had snuck inside during daylight hours and began to roam the empty corridors. But as the boys ventured deeper and deeper into the media center's interior, they began to notice the temperature dropping rapidly around them. The daylight streaming in from the broken windows above gradually seemed to dim until they could only see just a few feet in front of them. It was at this point that they noticed what seemed to be some sort of viscous substance gently flowing down the walls either side of them. Moving closer, they realized to their horror, that this material was wet concrete, with the main panels of the walls appearing to be in the process of melting and dripping down onto the corridor below. Turning to flee, the group suddenly heard a chilling scream and turned back to see one of their number staring down in complete shock at the ground below him. Following the boy's gaze, they were horrified to see a human arm somehow reaching up out of the solid concrete floor, its hand wrapped tightly around the boy's leg. The disembodied limb was stained with dark blood where it had apparently been sliced open with portions of grey bone exposed and covered by drying cement. Crying out in fear, the youth had yanked himself free from his apparent captor and then joined the rest of his friends in fleeing the building as quickly as they could. It was only later, after they were back in the sunlight and with the film center now several miles behind them that they finally stopped to pause for breath. The others watched in horror as the boy in question pulled up the leg of his jeans to reveal a series of livid and purplish bruises left on his skin, perfectly resembling a human handprint. It would not be until late 2001 that the Manila Film center was once again being used for entertainment purposes. In December of that year, it was leased by a company named the Amazing Philippines Theatre, who would utilize it on a regular basis to perform shows. But with their tenure, rumors soon began to circulate within the city that a new ghost had taken up residence within the haunted building. Not long after performances of the Amazing show commenced at the film center, the body of a young female performer was found lying on the steps of the building. The police investigation into her death was limited and ultimately unsuccessful, with detectives stating they believed the matter to be drugs related. But ever since that time, the apparition of an unknown female has been repeatedly cited in and around the building. On some occasions, rehearsals or live shows had to be halted when performers complained that an unknown woman had walked on stage, only to then disappear again. And these sightings were not only limited to the building's interior, with the recurring incident having been reported by several of the city's taxi drivers. On more than one occasion, passing cabs have been flagged down by a local female standing outside the centre in the early hours of the morning, who appears to have suffered minor injuries. The lone passenger looks upset and intimidated, asking the driver if he will take her to a local hospital to seek treatment for her injuries. But at some point during their journey, sometimes even midway through a conversation, this young woman will simply vanish. Both at the time of the Manila Film center disaster and in the years that followed, the Marcos regime denied that any workers had been buried within the building foundations. But in the aftermath of their ousting from power, it proved impossible to verify their claims. With no trustworthy or accurate records to be found regarding the incident, testimony from the families of those involved and the few photos taken by journalists who were able to gain access to the scene suggest that many laborers did indeed lose their lives. The stories that have emerged from the building since it was constructed all seem to suggest the same argument that the brutality and horror inflicted upon those dying in the incident by their employers was so incomprehensible their spirits could never move on from what occurred. They forever remained trapped within the concrete walls and foundations they had worked so long and so hard to construct, constrained between this world and the next, reaching out in search of anyone who can offer the one thing they were ultimately denied.
- [33:47]
A
Thank you for listening to this special presentation of bedtime stories. You can follow and listen anywhere you get your shows.