Driving from one asylum to another, we passed through a small town for some supplies and happened to come upon a graveyard with some very old stones. We pulled over to take a walk through, and noticed a beautiful crypt in the back of the property, almost obscured by trees growing inside the black wrought iron fence. Upon closer inspection, we noticed one of the heavy wood doors to be open a few inches, and we could see the edge of what looked like a casket. I turned around and patiently waited for the road traffic to die down and for the groundskeeper to face the opposite direction, then quickly hopped over the slippery spikes and through the doors.

The door loudly groaned in opposition as I quickly opened and shut it to avoid being seen. A small clover shaped window above let the sunlight stream inside the dark space, which appeared much bigger than I had anticipated. Loose dust and dirt had been blown in the open crack and settled into a pile just inside the doors; the only footprints here were my own. I looked up and saw three levels of ornate caskets, all intact... it was an incredible sight! I had to take photos quickly before the caretaker pushed his lawn mower closer to the crypt entrance or noticed I was no longer to be seen...