ghost buildings


Killjoys are obsessed with collecting relics of the past. It’s important to them to have physical proof that there was something before BLI and Battery City- before all this.

Out in the zones, especially the outermost areas, some old buildings and ghost towns still remain, untouched by BLI due to their misplaced trust in the people to be terrified enough never to venture so far- in those areas many items were left by the previous inhabitants.

Killjoys will scavenge random and strange objects, anything, from bottle caps to moth eaten clothes to empty soda cans. Some killjoys have collections of a specific kind of item- Party collects art supplies, Ghoul collects pocket knives and such-sometimes he’ll pick up a new pair of boots- jet likes to only take practical things, like tools and non perishable food items, and of course the Girl gets toys and clothing from their scavenges.


The Abandoned Sanzhi UFO houses, New Taipei City, Taiwan The Sanzhi UFO houses were futuristic pod-shaped buildings built in 1978 which were then abandoned a couple of years later. They were (and still remain) a great area of interest worldwide due to their architecture and the mysterious and tragic deaths that occurred during their construction. The buildings were fully demolished in 2010 and the site is now being converted into a seaside resort and water-park.


“Every city is a ghost.
New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel bean, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of these former incarnations in the awkward angle of a street or filigreed gate, an old oak door peeking out from a new facade, the plaque commemorating the spot that was once a battleground, which became a saloon and is now a park.”

Libba Bray, Lair of Dreams

Choose Your Illusion: Psychotropic Fungi Spores, Visions, Hauntings, and Ghosts

Could psychotropic mold spores lurking in decrepit old buildings be the root cause of ghost sightings? In this story from The Daily Mail, science, mycology, magic, and myth collide in a bubbling cauldron of epic proportions, and I couldn’t be more excited! As if I need any more convincing that fungi are the masked & cloaked puppeteers pulling the strings of human history, researchers from Clarkson University are implicating the inhalation of toxic mold as a probable cause for visions, hallucinations, hauntings, and paranormal activity in some of New York’s most notorious haunted houses. 

Researchers will be measuring air quality in several purportedly haunted locales across New York State, in order to deduce if there is a correlation between the airborn mold spores and brain inflammation. They will be comparing samples taken from several buildings where ghost sightings have been reported with samples taken from ho-hum homesteads with nary a ghost in sight, to see if there is a difference in the types of fungi between those two locales. “Experiences reported in many hauntings are similar to mental or neurological symptoms reported by individuals exposed to toxic molds,” said Professor Shane Rogers of Clarkson University in Potsdam, New York. “Psychoactive effects of some fungi are well-known, whereas the effects of others such as indoor molds are less researched. Although allergy and asthma symptoms and other physiological effects are well established, there has long been controversy over the effects of indoor mold exposure on cognitive and other functioning of the brain. Reports of psychiatric symptoms including mood swings, hyperactivity, and irrational anger, as well as cognitive impairment are prevalent among those exposed to molds.”

No stranger to the far-reaching, miasmic, and often nebulous symptoms of brain inflammation, I can testify to the pervasive power of the altered states one can sink into under the right duress. According to the article, preliminary laboratory research on this subject is emerging that “supports brain inflammation and memory loss in mice exposed to Stachybotrys charatarum, a common indoor air mold, as well as increased anxiety and fear.” Coupled with the subconscious suggestibility that permeates one’s experience in an infamously supernatural locale, we have an environment rife with illusory impressionability for spectral enchantment.

A friend of mine was reflecting on the widespread co-opting of mystical experience by the scientific community, and wondered aloud if it is truly wise and prudent to dismiss something that may be magical as a construct of scientific phenomena. “Too much reality ruins the new eyes of a child,” they ruminated. While I agree, I also believe that fungi and science are inherently magical, and the more mycology I study, the more slackjawed, wide eyed, and agape with magic that I am. Where science and magic intersect is where Botanarchy dwells, and it is in this liminal slipstream where I prefer to hang my hat.

Read more:
They are poor, sick and voted for Trump. What will happen to them without Obamacare?
In rural West Virginia, a nurse practitioner braces for the future of health care

The poverty and desperation in this article really messed me up.

I was raised in a part of Ohio that is probably better off than the WV town described in that piece. But not by a wide margin. Swap ‘coal miner’ for ‘auto plant worker’ or ‘oil field worker’ and you have the right idea. The crumbling schools, the closing businesses, the ghost town buildings built in mining booms that were never going to last: it’s all there. In my high school, a liquid resembling tar leaked from the ceilings; it sure as hell didn’t have any AP classes.

I was born in Wheeling, WV, even though it was a good ways away from my parents’ home, because it was the nearest reputable hospital that my mom trusted and had experience with. My parents had good jobs and the privilege to drive to and pay for a good hospital. Lots of other people in the area aren’t that fortunate.

I have a fellowship in my grad program because I was academically successful and appalachian, a combination my school saw as deserving of help. I’m so grateful. But I also recognize in myself the small-town hurt-pride resentment of having to accept a handout. Pity, for being Lazy. Stupid. Unable to help oneself. It’s hard to shake those kind of thoughts when you were born and raised around them.

Before I moved away for school, I worked as a receptionist for a tax office in my hometown. It gave me perspective on how many people needed support there. How many people were helped, and also harmed, by the ACA. Its effect was pronounced and complex.

In the fall of 2016, I didn’t spend much time in my hometown. I only visited to see my family and I never stayed more than a couple days. But I remember seeing a stunning number of Trump/Pence signs in every yard. I was shocked and appalled, the same way I would eventually be with the results of the election. I had been affected by my peer circle of other young, educated city-dwellers. I’d been a victim of the liberal bubble. All those literal Trump signs, and I still missed the figurative one.

And while in the clinic a few weeks ago, I was talking to one of my preceptors about the differences between urban and rural poverty. About the lack of access to audiology, not to mention nearly every other kind of healthcare near where i grew up. When I mentioned what county I was from, something sad flickered across her face. “That county is always near the top of the lists I get for places that need help in our state”. She was thinking about kids who need access to hearing aids and/or speech therapy, but it’s probably a fair assessment for lots of other areas as well.

“Would you ever want to practice there, once you’re finished with school?” she asked. I hesitated, thinking about how I had angled that way pretty hard in my application letters, but also about my distaste for the place born of being bullied and surrounded by well-meaning but narrowminded people. Ultimately I gave a neutral response, saying I would go back if the situation was right. I don’t know if I actually would.

But this article gets to me because it reminds me of the place that raised me. It hits me where I live, so to speak. No, people don’t get the black lung there. But it’s a place in need of help, and a place that overwhelmingly supported donald trump. I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t know how to help. I don’t even know if I have it in me to go back and help other kids to get out like I did. It’s an uncertain mess, and I’m scared.


It’s the year 2105, and Amity Park has gone from an ectoplasmic hot spot to a ghost town.

Buildings are falling apart, crumbling to dust in the cracked streets. These streets are eerily silent; no animals even dare enter the town, for fear of the wrath of the ghosts.

But humans are stupid, and still try and enter the town anyway. Their stories act as warnings for any others who are foolish enough to want to investigate Amity Park.

For one thing, the town is nigh impossible to find, meaning any souls who stumble upon it are quite lucky. Or, well, not so lucky, as the case may be, because very few of the people who find Amity Park ever come back to tell their tales.

The stories that do make it out speak of the ghosts still living in the town. Phantom is always mentioned – the former savior of the town, he continues to patrol it, they say. He scares away humans who try and enter the town. It is these people who have stories to tell. Those who ignore Phantom’s warnings do not make it back alive.

One girl, who had tagged along with her two male friends, watched as the boys laughed off Phantom’s warnings and pushed onwards into the town. She heard their screams echo through the silent night as she heeded the ghost’s warnings, turned tail and fled.

Another, a scientist, tried to talk to Phantom, but he refused to answer any questions beyond why they must stay away. “The ghosts will kill you,” he stated solemnly. “They will kill you, unless you turn back now and leave.”

The scientist managed to record the encounter, and the video went viral. This was in the early days, when the town was newly abandoned. Now, it seems people have already forgotten these warnings. People still try. People still die.

(Ghost towns are no place for humans. The living must either return to their world, or join the ghosts in death.)


Sneak preview of what the Mystery SkullsAcademy Building may or may not look like. The building itself is a mix of architecture ranging from the styles depicted in Soul Eater’s DWMA, Casper’s Scare School, Lewis’ Mansion from the Episode “Ghost”, and buildings built between the late 1800s and early 1900s. There are only 2 stories shown (3 if you count the attic), but there are other floor levels below ground, cellars, which extend more than 6 feet under *ba dum chhh* the final rendering will be sure to have its main color palette borrowed from Lewis’ mansion, as the school was built with the help of Lewis. The large heart at the top does have a purpose, but that purpose will be revealed in the comic when the time is right. For now, please enjoy the line art of the building!

Every city is a ghost. 
New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel bean, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of these former incarnations in the awkward angle of a street or filigreed gate, an old oak door peeking out from a new facade, the plaque commemorating the spot that was once a battleground, which became a saloon and is now a park.
—  Lair of Dreams by Libba Bray

Haunted homesteads? Check out these abandoned homestead properties, ruins, and spooky ghost towns you will find on public lands in New Mexico. View the entire photo collection with descriptions on BLM New Mexico’s Flickr. #BLMhistory

BLM Photos Courtesy of Loran Meares.