Glass crunched underfoot as I walked beneath the shattered skylight of a completely abandoned mall. I'd gained a headache the second I entered the building. I knew the theories as to why the project had died before ever having a grand opening sale. One claimed aliens some how sabotaged it, others that it was an ancient burial site, some thought it was tax evasion and it wouldn't work for tax evasion if it made money. But no one knew for certain, and some new developer wanted to know and so she hired me. Buildings talk to me. The more abandoned and broken the more chatty.
Go away
Except this one. All it said was go away or some variation there of. And it said it loud enough that even raccoons and bugs weren't here, and it was making me feel terrible. Most abandoned buildings welcomed new comers, be they homeless, four legged visitors like racoons or mice, or many legged creatures like centipedes and spiders. Buildings wanted residents. They wanted to watch the lives of people living in them, to be a part of their story. I whispered to the mall that I was here to help, here to set things right. It'd listen eventually.
LEAVE
Personally, I don't think any of the theories are right. Ancient burial site would explain some of the weird accidents that happened during construction, but not the lack of anything living here. Every time a building has warned me off it's been due to some danger like rotted floor boards or black mold.
NOT SAFE
But none of them had been so aggressive about it. The yelling was giving me a headache by the time I reached the shoddy not quite finished foodcourt. I took a swig of tea, spearmint. It'd help with the headache, and hydration an the growing nausea. Double win. I stood on the empty tile floor and said, "show me what happened, I want to help."
No. Leave. Not safe.
A memory of a builder collapsing as they placed a table that wasn't there anymore. He threw up.
I sighed and wished the foodcourt was open, instead of incomplete and covered in dust. The Wendys didn't have any equipment in it, the new york fries had a menu hanging but didn't have a counter to order at and third and fourth places weren't even built up enough to guess what was supposed to go there. "I'm not leaving."
Go, please.
I wanted to. I really did, but I had a job to do. And I didn't like leaving jobs unfinished. And I could feel some pain there. Something was harming this building, and it was protecting everyone, even bugs from it. "I can help."
Silence from the building.
I waited and sipped my tea, the menthol clearing my sinuses a bit, and clearing my throat of the dust. I had a patience for buildings I didn't normally have for people. Though the silence was starting to jangle my nerves.
I jumped at the loud metallic bang of a door slamming open just on the other side of the food court.
Look if you must
And I must, like a moth to a lightbulb I couldn't resist. Someone smarter, someone with stronger survival instincts would have left, or wouldn't have come into the building in the first place. But someone with better survival instincts wouldn't have gotten the shot that won me the best urban photographer prize.
Through the door was a staircase leading down lit by emergency lights. Lights the building was turning on. This place hadn't been connected to a power grid for over a decade. Which meant the building was now helping me uncover it's painful and possibly deadly secret. I just hoped it wouldn't be deadly for me.
Go back then
"Not a chance. This is important." At the bottom of the stairs was service corridor with pipes and wires. All in pristine condition, other than the dust. No one had stolen the copper wires or messed with the lights. I'm the first living thing down here for a long time.
Around a corner an elevator opened with a ding, and the building showed me some people in hazmat suits transporting a crate into it. I followed the memories. Something was hidden here. Something dangerous and I was going to find out. I followed the phatom people into the elevator. It wasn't a nice one wiht carpet and fancy walls, it was a box with bare metal. The door closed and we went down. And down. And down. And down. A big ol elevator shaft wasn't on the plans. It was a single floor building. What were they doing down here?
The door opened and the hazmat people went through me like they were made of nothing. And they were. Just a little bit of light from the building.
You could be hurt
My gut roiled, but I followed the clue. The memory of something important to the building. Down another hallway, bare stone with naked flickering bulbs. It stank of damp and rot.
The duo with the crate opened a door and shoved the crate in. I stopped in front of the door. In reality it was closed and had a giant staff only sign on it. I tried the knob. Locked.
It's not safe in there
"I'm just taking a quick look. Please."
The door opened with a high pitched squeal like a dying chew toy. My geiger counter started making a ruckus. I pushed the door closed. Nuclear waste. The whole project had been to hide nuclear waste.
It's not good. It made them sick.
"I'm going to get this out of you okay. It's not safe to be stored here." I hurried to the elevator. I hoped the nausea was just the building trying to get me to leave and not radiation poison or something. And people thought I was silly for buying a geiger counter. It'd been a novelty thing, a funny gadget. Today though, I was glad for it.
I called my employer, told them the truth and they promised me they'd take care of it. I wasn't sure if I believed her, but the next day it was on the news. An anonymous tip had lead to the discovery of toxic waste under the abandoned mall. Some of the workers were talking about their memories, how they'd felt sick. Law suits were being planned with foundations in honor of a few of the workers who had died due to exposure.
I'd done a good thing, and I wondered if anyone would finish the mall once the toxic stuff had been removed.