The remains of the main hall resembled the small courtyard we’d just left. The area
was completely overgrown with Buddleia bushes and the floor was reduced to rough rubble.
Six years ago this was the asylum’s ballroom. Now it was a wasteland.
We could hear Tom as he continued to force the door open, pushing against the
pile of rubble around its base. And he could also hear us: “Hey guys, where are we?”
“In the main hall.”
We turned a corner and saw Tom struggling to open the door. So our underground room was
accessed via a stairway originally concealed under the stage of the main hall.
