The Attics of Hospitals Walking down Motorways

I read about Mansfield Hospital, long since closed. Almost all urban explorers who have been in the place speak of its less than pleasant atmosphere. None really explain why. The photographs haunt those minutes as I am falling to sleep. Long, cold corridors, and rooms full of movement when there should be nothing.
I hear footsteps somewhere. No-one must ever be able to map this place.
I imagine these places grow at night; stairways and hallways and morgues, operating theatre, attic and...
Oh, imagine the attics of hospitals, of that one hospital that all urban explorers fear.
I hear Mansfield Hospital, half a country away, hear me.
Hear footsteps walking down the motorways as it sends someone dressed as a corridor into possible dreams.