After many trips to this hospital, poking around the outer buildings and observing, it was time to make our move. The goal was a series of ornate tuberculosis pavilions, erected during the early 1900s, and abandoned since the 1970s. They were watched closely however - and the consequences for trespassing were dealt with seriously. This required a careful initial approach in the dark...
Tiled figures along the roof line winked at us in the moonlight as we crept through the shadows to a tunnel entrance. The only vehicles driving around the campus were the skeleton crew shift at the active portions of the hospital and the police, so the traffic was fairly infrequent which pushed the odds slightly in our favor. We descended into the stale air of dripping tunnel, which was used for water and steam connections, as well as a service tunnel. The curved concrete passage led to four buildings; a similarly curved passageway mirrored this tunnel above ground, long sealed off from its destinations.
Our flashlights pierced into a passage to the left which contained a rusting gurney, sparkling under a small grate which let a hint of moonlight in. The service tunnel bored into the pathology building; a way to transport the dead through a crowded hospital discreetly. Large doors at the end were blocked shut, as the building was renovated in recent years. I still wondered what lurked in the basement.
Backtracking down to the main tunnel, we ended up at the first pavilion, marked by a large faded number "1" painted on the wall. We decided to traverse to the last (pavilion number 4) and work our way back. As we ascended the crumbling steps, we were greeted with wards that had been frozen in time for over thirty years...