A ‘Walls between worlds being thin and porous’ story

On Tuesday last week I headed out the door to relax and spend time with nature at Ohio’s Mohican State Park. Twenty miles later I happened to notice an abandoned factory off road on the left so I pulled over and drove back to check out the scene.
In front there were piles of junk metal. The building exhibited broken windows. There was no fence. ‘No trespassing’ signs were evident but I didn’t let that deter me.
I looked through a broken window and saw lots of wide open space, beams and girders. I knew there would be an open door somewhere. It was easy to find and I walked in without much thought.
Once inside I initially took a large number of photos showing the impressive length and width of the building. The silence of the space was paired with natural light streaming through the upper windows.
I spied office windows at the top of a set of metal stairs leading up to them and ended up on a metal grate platform looking down a mostly dark hallway. I felt uneasy. With an open door to my right five to seven feet way I took a single photo and purposefully took my time to insure the desired image would turn out crisp.
After all, to collect a bit of creepy atmosphere is one of the reasons a person like me would go into such a building in the first place. I held still and snapped the shutter deliberately.
That was as far as I got. As curious as I am, I wasn’t going further into the dark where I could be pushed and doors shut behind, imprisoning me.
Uneasy, and all by myself in this huge space, I backed away and traveled down to the floor of the factory again.
I took a few more photos, walked out the door, and had a relaxing time the rest of the day.
Later that night I downloaded my photos, eventually opening the office image. When I did the hair on the back of my neck rose up fast and stiff. I had stood still and taken my time. I thought “Why is the photo distorted?”
I turned my gaze to the floor by the door where the hinges are located and a shot of electricity coursed through me. I saw eyes, eyebrows, a forehead, hair, cheeks, a meaty forearm, and a hand extended. The eyes were gazing directly at me.
When I raised my camera earlier that day I had no idea anything of substance was nearby. There was no odd sound, smell, or sight.
I had been unsettled, yes, but that was all.
In this place where a complete salvage of equipment occurred, I noticed the dual drag marks headed the wrong direction and into the back of the nearby room on the right with the door open. Plus, was that a large stain on the carpet?
In the end, I called the local police department where the factory is located and turned myself in for trespassing. I thought if there were homeless people camping out, or if cadavers were inside that office it was my duty to report it.
But the dispatcher was bored by my story and only wanted a phone number from me in case an officer might need more information. That interchange still feels humorous.
Here I had, possibly, just had one of the very most exciting experiences of my life, yet law enforcement could barely tolerate listening.
Edit – At last glance, in a blow up of the final photo posted below, it appears there are images of three humans within.
What do you think of this?
*Photo information gathering credit to Julia Skop for the last in the sequence below.

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