First message
Urban exploring is sketchy. During the daylight, law enforcement might cost your liberty. During the night, angry property owners or the meaner denizens might cost more…
5 minutes into the exploration, you regret ever starting this. Everywhere are subtle signs the place is used. Except it’s not what you’d expect. Plastic wine glasses where you expect beer cans, cigar ends where there should be recycled bits of old cigarette…hints of wealth in squalor.
Your breath catches. A semi circle of chairs on two levels. Maybe as many as 30 all arrayed around a mattress soaked in every kind of fluid you can imagine. Other, worse mattress are stacked against a wall, a half dozen new mattresses suggesting a conveyor belt of activity.
Next to the mattress, angled to capture the mattress but not the audience is an old school camera on a tripod, SD Card still in place. Whatever happens here, isn’t something they want an IP address advertising. You hear a soft clink come from and adjoining room.
Heart racing and against every movie trope warning, screaming at you to run, you silently open the door, softly gasping as you see a Neko hybrid. The black mess of plastered hair, face streaked with tears through what must be months of grime across his cheeks. Blood and who knows what else smeared across him
…mrrr purr meow the catboy flinches at his own noise, latex clothing squeaking as he turns his pale blue eyes toward you, arms straining against the ropes binding him