Down by the docks, there are these warehouses. You know the kind, the kind drug dealers use to peddle their shit, the kind that cops stake out for catching drug dealers. Well, there's one of them down there that nobody even wants to go to any more. Pretty much everyone says it's haunted or something. I wonder if they are right.
This one, this one warehouse way by the east dock 3 used to be like a meat house. It has all the metal doors and shit, the roll-up kind that trucks back up to, you know the ones. Then inside there are like a bunch of big rooms with those conveyor-hook systems that they'd hang up the big carcasses on and like it would go into the refrigeration rooms or out into the loading docks or whatever, right? Well, one time we had a rave we wanted to do, and the way I saw it, where better to have a rave than a fucking haunted warehouse, right?
So we brought in my brother's sound equipment, and set the place up one day. Speakers, lights, the works. We could seriously blast some fucking waves with the shit my brother had, right? But like, the best party about the place was that the acoustics were fucking wicked. The reverb was delicious, man. You could FEEL the music everywhere in that place. Well, everywhere except that one room.
The conveyor rotation shit worked in every room except the one in the back. That door was stuck or some shit, and the little hole in the wall thing where the conveyor goes through had been boarded up. We didn't know why, but it was far enough back that we didn't care. We wired up all the other rooms with speakers and shit, and at like ten or so people started showing up. We'd charge like five bucks a pop for each person, and the place was big enough that we definitely made back the money we spent in like two hours and a fuckton more after that.
At around 2, though, that's when the music shorted out. I went back to look what happened-- someone probably kicked a cable out or some shit, right? But that's definitely not the case-- the room next to that one boarded-up room was just trashed. The speakers were kicked in, and like seven or eight people were lying face-down like they'd OD'd on something or whatever. It only hit me like a few seconds afterward that the door to that room had been opened outward, like toward you when you're looking at it.
I only looked inside for just a second before I had to start running. Like you know when you notice something and it processes in your head before you understand it, and your body starts to react before your cognitive system tells you what it's reacting to? It was kind of like that. I was like halfway out of the warehouse before I finally knew that I was being chased. This guy, he was like all covered in shredded up clothes, right? All bloodied up and had like two fucking huge meat hooks, one in each hand.
The police said they found me in a little rowboat in the middle of the bay, but I don't really remember anything past the hook-guy turning and catching one of the girls in the eye socket with his fucking hook. They said I was like mumbling and rocking back and forth. I don't even know.
The news still says the guy's running loose in the city, and his hit number is up to 63 right now. That's a lot of corpses, man. I wonder if he takes them back to that warehouse, hangs them up on the fucking hooks there?