by C. K. Walker
Nothing.
"Lydia, I swear to god, I will punch you in your face."
Silence. I walked over to the closet door and grasped the handle.
"Lydia, you’re a fucking-"
"A fucking what?"
Her voice came from the doorway – behind me. I let go of the doorknob and stumbled back, wide-eyed. Lydia threw her stuff on the bed and turned to me, crossing her arms.
"I’m a fucking what?"
“I...thought you were hiding in the closet." I said, lamely.
"What? Why?"
"Because someone was knocking on the door."
"Jesus, Becca." Lydia rubbed her forehead and walked over to the closet, throwing open the door. There was nothing there but clothes and boxes. She made a swipe of her arm as if to say: ‘what now?’
"I swear-"
"Becca, there's no one here."
"I know what I heard."
We glared at each other until our little standoff was interrupted by the timely arrival of Ian.
He immediately sensed the tension in the room. "Hi, ladies... What’s new?"
I gave my roommate a hostile look. "There’s strange shit is going on in that room next door. But that’s not new."
'Which room? 735? Or the empty one?"
"The empty one." Lydia emphasized.
“733. Yeah, I'm not surprised. That's the suicide room."
"Right, we heard about the deaths." I sat down on my bed.
"Yeah, it’s pretty fucked up. Three suicides all in one dorm room."
"Three?" Lydia raised her eyebrow. "We were told there were two."
"Well there were a couple people in the 70s and then some guy about ten years ago. He jumped out the window.”
Lydia and I both shuddered. Although she was much worse, we were both terrified of heights. A falling death was about the worst thing I could think of.
"I will admit that three suicides in the same dorm room is fucking disturbing.” Lydia said in an apologetic tone.
"Yeah, I heard there's something in that room." Ian said.
"Like what?"
"No one knows, but every year someone has a new theory, usually right around Halloween something gets published in the campus paper. Whatever is in there, though, it ain't friendly."
"So, has anyone ever killed themselves in the neighboring rooms? Like this one?"
"Nah, just 733. Honestly, I was surprised when I heard they were opening the north hall this year."
"They told us we were the biggest incoming freshman class in twenty years." I said absentmindedly.
"Yeah, I heard that, too. You know you could request a room change." Ian sat down on the bed next to me and I leaned against his shoulder.
"Yeah, but they wouldn't keep us together." Lydia cut in. "Becca and I have been best friends for 15 years. We can't room with other people."
"So should we just keep living here, next to Satan?" I glanced at the closet door again.
Lydia shrugged. "At least we'll have some stories to tell after graduation."
"These aren't the kind of stories I want to tell."
*
A few days later Lydia began to believe my closet story. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone whispering. I looked over at Lydia, who was already staring at me with wide eyes. She slowly brought a finger to her lips.
I listened intently, trying to hear what the voice was saying and where it was coming from but I couldn't understand even one word. I got out of my bed and tiptoed over to Lydia's. The whispering was definitely louder over there, but then she shared a wall with room 733. I listened harder.
...never...taken...mouths...of fools...
What the hell? Lydia leaned over and put her ear up to the wall. The whispers suddenly stopped and I leaned closer. Suddenly there was a loud bang from the other side. Lydia immediately recoiled and clutched her ear in pain.
Someone was in there. Suddenly more angry than scared I again threw open our door and stomped over to the supposedly empty supply room. I banged on the door loudly not caring who else I woke up at this point.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!” I yelled at the door. “This shit isn't funny anymore. Come out of that fucking room, you asshole."
Silence. And then the doorknob started to turn.
I don't know what I'd expected to happen but it wasn't that. I backed up so far from the door that I ran into the opposite wall. When the handle had turned all the way down, something started to push from the other side. The door groaned loudly but the locks held.
I held my breath until the pressure on the door subsided and the handle slowly returned to its normal position.
I noticed Lydia peaking her head out of our room. She held up her hands as if to say what happened?
"Someone thinks they're funny." I answered her out loud. She shook her head and disappeared back into our room.
I knelt down on the floor and brought my head down to the carpet, peering under the door crack. It was the first time I had seen into the corner room.
Room 733 was definitely a supply closet. There were chairs stacked along one wall and bed frames along the other. A few rotting mattresses were piled under one of the windows and a thick layer of dust covered everything in the room. The windows were absolutely huge, which was something you couldn’t really tell by looking up at the building. There were open as always and I could definitely see how someone could easily climb through them to the outside ledge.
The room didn't look like it had been disturbed in a couple of decades which sent a shudder wracking through my body.
The moonlight, which had been providing enough light to see into the room, suddenly vanished and I saw only pitch black inside. I blinked rapidly trying to adjust my night vision. I squeezed my eyes shut and when I opened them, a large yellow eye was looking back at me, only a few inches away from my face on the other side of the door.
I screamed and woke up half the dorm.
*
There was no denying that things were escalating. The next morning Lydia and I put in dorm change requests with Resident Services and hoped for the best. In the meantime, we agreed to never be alone in our dorm room at night. Either we both spent the night at home or neither of us did. We started spending most nights with our respective boyfriends.
I told Ian everything that had happened and he suggested I maybe talk to the campus Paranormal Society. I hesitantly made an appointment and Lydia and I met with a small, cleanly dressed kid named Craig and four of his "colleagues” the following Tuesday.
We told them everything we could remember, every incident, no matter how small. Craig and the four other members of the Paranormal Society sat quietly and took notes for half an hour. It wasn’t until we finished that anyone spoke.
"Is that all?" Craig asked.
"Yes..." I said slowly.
"Would you mind waiting out in the hall for a few minutes so that I may confer with my colleagues?"
"Sure," Lydia smiled indulgently and stood up. "Whatever you need."
The door had barely shut behind us when Lydia snorted and rolled her eyes. "Let's go."
"Go where?" I asked.
"Are you serious?"
"Lydia, come on, we need help, I am freaking out. We haven't stayed one night in our dorm since Thursday so this isn't something we can just brush off."
"Okay.” She threw her hands up. “Let's hear what they have to say and then we can go over to Resident Services and check on our move requests."
We loitered out in the hallway for another 15 minutes before Craig came out and asked up to come back and take a seat.
With all the pomp and circumstance of a meeting of parliament, Craig cleared his throat and made his diagnosis.
"What you’re dealing with, ladies, is a very angry ghost."
"Is that your professional opinion, Craig?" Lydia said. I shot her a look.
"Y-yes,” he stuttered. “A vengeful spirit-“
“A spirit?” I asked. I v
ery much doubted that that’s what we were dealing with.
“Yes,” answered one of the not-Craigs. “That’s ghost to the layperson.”
“Jesus Christ,” Lydia groaned and rubbed her temples.
Mistaking Lydia’s frustration with despair, Craig rushed right into his speech.
“Don’t be afraid, ladies, we’re going to take care of you. It’s true that spirits can be quite a headache if you don’t know how to exorcize them which is why it’s good you came to us. Suicides almost always result in angry ghosts, they need revenge.”
"Revenge on whom?" I asked.
"On other students. Perhaps this particular spirit was bullied into taking his own life and now seeks to torment others.”
“Ah, listen-“
"We can take care of this for you right away, all we ask is a small donation to the society,” Craig continued. “We honestly didn’t realize that room was having this much activity. It's really very exciting."
"Great, well, thank you for your time," Lydia said as she grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my chair.
“Do you want to set something up for this weekend?” Craig asked.
“Tell you what, we’ll call you.”
Lydia hurried me out of the room wearing a weary look and we didn’t speak again until we were almost to the Admin building.
“That was a waste of time.” She said.
“Look, I’m not disagreeing with you, but-”
“Becca, tell me you didn’t honestly buy into that?”
“So you don’t think it’s a...a…” I was having trouble even saying the word, it sounded so ridiculous. “…ghost?”
“Well, I don’t fucking know, but neither do they. That guy had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.”
I pulled my hood lower over my eyes as we stepped into line at the Resident Services desk.
“Let me put it this way.” Lydia continued. “They’re playing Ghostbusters and we’re* living* the fucking Exorcist.”
"Fine,” I sighed. “Then what do you want to do? Just keep sleeping at Mike and Ian's until we get reassigned?”
“I just want this to end.” Lydia crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. We all wanted this to end. Even if living next to that fucking room wasn’t scary it was sure as hell distracting.
“Alright, well, I mean we're probably safe during daylight hours so as long as we don’t spend nights there we should be okay. Our room is only ghost adjacent after all, and our new assignments will come through soon." I checked my watch. “Fuck it’s almost 2.”
"Shit, really? I gotta go. Mike got accepted to Sigma Chi and he's getting initiated today."
"Oh yeah, I forgot he rushed."
The girl at the desk waved us forward. I hadn’t even realized we’d reached the front of the line.
“Let me know what they say,” Lydia said as she ran out the door.
The girl at the desk eyed me suspiciously as I approached.
“Hi, I’m-“
“You’re the girl trying to move out of 734 in Reilly, aren’t you?”
She’d caught me off guard. “Yeah, one of them. How’d you know?”
“Sorry, I overheard you. I also saw your file cross my desk a few days ago and I gotta ask: why are you looking to transfer rooms, exactly?”
I was tired. I was beaten down. I didn’t have the energy to think of a lie.
“Because shit is going on in the empty room next door and it’s really freaking us out. Noises, whispers, knocking, the other night I saw someone...”
“You saw someone?”
“Yeah.”
“In room 733?”
“Yeah. I looked under the door. There was definitely someone in there.”
The girl narrowed her eyes at me for a moment and then nodded for no particular reason.
“Well, your rooms aren’t ready yet but I’ve pushed them through as a priority. For right now you’re stuck, though. There just isn’t anywhere else to put you.”
I sighed. I’d figured as much.
“I’m Alice,” she continued, “and, look, I’ve actually done a lot of research on the Reilly suicides and I think I can help you. Or at the very least offer some insight.”
“Really?” I asked, hesitantly.
“Absolutely. I’m in Taylor Hall, room 310. I’ll be back to my dorm by 4 today."
"Thanks. We just came from the Paranormal Society on campus.”
“Ugh, say no more,” Alice rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, so…I’ll definitely see you at 4.”
“Great,” Alice said, and smiled.
*
I was early to Taylor, but then so was she. I told our story for the second time that day and Alice wasn’t afraid to interrupt with questions, though her queries didn’t betray her thoughts.
When I was finished she leaned back in her chair and sighed deeply.
"I can’t believe it,” she shook her head. “I’d always heard rumors but I honestly doubted any of it was true.”
“I can assure you – everything I’ve told you is absolutely true.”
“And how is it now? When you’re there?”
“We aren’t ever there at night but during the day we’ve heard scratching on the wall, really quiet whispering and sometimes we still hear the window opening and closing. In broad fucking daylight. However every time I look up from the street the windows to 733 are open.”
Alice nodded. “Well, for the record I don’t think you’re in any danger. As much as it sucks, you guys are simply a casualty. You just need to stay out of room 733.”
I snorted. “Are you kidding? I would never go in there.”
"I believe that you believe that. But this thing, whatever it is, it's tricky. Manipulative. A liar. And it's smarter than you."
"I'll try not to be offended by that."
"You shouldn't be."
“What do you think it is?”
“Something very old and very evil.”
I regarded her skeptically and then let my eyes wander around the room. I hadn’t really noticed the décor before but to say Alice had an interest in the occult was an understatement.
"I can't see any situation where I would be compelled to enter that room."
"I know. But you have to be prepared that there may come a time when you have to make a decision about entering that room. Because what you’re dealing with? It’s already killed five people.”
"Five?! I thought it was three!"
"Yeah, well, not everyone is inclined to do the level of research that I do. Let’s see, there was Ellen Burnham in 1961 – she jumped out the window. She was the very first. And then Tad Collinsworth in 1968 - he jumped, too. Marissa Grigg in 1975, she hung herself. Erin Murphy in 1979 - she jumped. And then Erik Dousten in 1992 - he hung himself."
"Five suicides. How could the university still let people live in there?”
"They don’t, apparently. That’s why it’s a supply room.”
“And back then?”
“Well, every few years, once everyone who would remember had graduated, the room would be reassigned. This was before the internet, you know, and the incoming freshman were clueless. But after that last one - Erik Dousten - they closed the entire north hall of the 7th floor and built more rooms onto the south hall."
"So, what does it want?"
Alice shrugged. "Chaos. Death. Souls. Who knows? No one even knows what it is."
"Okay, so what do we know?"
"We know that it's somehow bound to that room though it seems to have minimal influence just outside of it. We know that everyone who ever died was alone at the time. And we know that it's a trickster. That's what we know."
It wasn’t enough. “Why do you think they do it?” I asked quietly.
“The victims?”
I nodded.
“All I know is what’s rumored to be in the evidence files. All the suicides were found with pictures or writings that were considered ‘unspeakable’ at the time. They co
ntained horrible, evil things that would make you physically sick to read or see, they say.”
“And these people, they drew them? They wrote that stuff?”
“Yep. Whatever is in that room drove them mad.”
“That’s fucking terrifying.”
“Have you guys considered getting somebody to bless the room?"
"Jesus."
"Well you'll have a hard time getting him but perhaps some other sort of holy person."
"No, I mean, Jesus, you're talking about an exorcism."
Alice shrugged. "Maybe. The rumor in the 70s was that this all started with a Ouija board game gone wrong in 1961."
“Really? That shit’s made by Hasbro.”
"Not in the 60s it wasn’t. Anyway, it's just a rumor. The only person on campus who would know is Tom Garris in Admin. I've tried to talk to him before but he refuses to see me."
"Did he go here in 1961?"
"Yes. And he was staying in Reilly."
"We need to talk to him. I need to know what the fuck is happening or I won’t be able to live the rest of my life as a well-adjusted person."
"I suppose we can try to chase him down on campus."
“Can we talk to him tomorrow?"
"We can try.”
*
Mr. Garris wouldn't see us that day or the next. We tried to catch him on his lunch hour and then again while he was leaving work but he got around us every time. It was soon clear that the old man was actively avoiding us.
Lydia and I had seen little of each other since we’d continued to sleep in other dorms. I went back to our room twice a day - once in the morning and once in the afternoon. Usually the other room was silent but that didn’t make me feel better. I could always sense something on the other side of the wall, somehow watching me. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The Thursday before Halloween I came back to the dorm to shower in the evening, much later than usual. I‘d seen Lydia that afternoon and she’d informed me that she had enough clothes stored at Mike’s to last until graduation so I knew I’d be there alone.
I showered down the hall in the safety of the bathrooms and then walked back to my room to change. I was supposed to meet Ian in half an hour to head out to a party and I wanted to get out of here as quick as possible.
