Storytime. Creepy story time, that is.
It's a little cliche to have a creepy story that takes place on Halloween, but sometimes, that's when the opportunity presents itself.
I went to a local college, and this college was full of its own ghost stories - and for good reason. Most of the buildings were built in the 1800s, only barely upgraded to be 'modern.' Some of the buildings didn't have air conditioning. Others didn't have elevators, and their stares creaked as you climbed them. My favourite of all was the fact that the music building was haunted by the man who had donated the money to have it built. He had designed the pipe organ in the building's auditorium, and while he'd been alive, he'd made time each month to come and play his pipe organ. Even after his death, once a month, the pipe organ would sound off to an empty building - but this isn't the story I was going to tell.
The college required its students to work on the campus to help offset the cost of their tuition. Though I worked in the library, my best friend of many years had a job in the gift shop of a hotel that was attached to the college campus. On Halloween, we made plans that I would meet him at the gift shop and we would drive around and enjoy our Halloween together, gothed out like crazy and freaking out the normals.
I joined him in the gift shop as he was closing up, both of us talking about nothing, but I couldn't help but notice how he kept glancing toward the back of the shop. I asked him what was going on and he told me that he had to take something down to the basement but he hated the basement. "Why?" I asked, having been practically led into the question.
He didn't tell me much of a story, but he told me that he always felt watched when he went down there. Like there was someone else down there who didn't want him in their space. I volunteered to take the spare stock downstairs for him, having not even known that there was a basement, but he wouldn't let me go alone. Both of us went downstairs instead, him with the stock, and me leading the way.
The basement was a small, crowded space with boxes under and on top of counters that lined the walls, and on a long bench that bisected the room, leaving a narrow path in a rectangle that began and ended at the staircase. I could feel what he'd mentioned. There was a definite sense of darkness and dank even with the lights on and no sign of mildew. I started looking around me, being curious, before I told my friend that I wanted to walk around. Just once, I promised him.
So I started to walk. The boxes were stacked almost to shoulder-height, and hanging from racks on the ceiling were even more, but I could still see my friend from every point in the room. I went slow, trying to stretch out my senses and hear or see or feel something out of the ordinary. As I reached the first corner, my friend started urging me to hurry. I answered him that the room was small and nothing weird was going on. I asked him why but he wouldn't give me an answer, so I kept going at my leisurely pace.
I did as promised and made just one circuit of the room, ready to head back up, but I couldn't help but notice that my friend was looking very pale as we went back up the stairs, finished locking up the store, and went out to his car. Once we were driving away, I asked him why he'd been trying to get me to go so much faster. It took him a few seconds to answer but he finally told me that halfway down the room on that first leg of my miniature journey, he'd seen something form up behind me, a green mist, and follow me all along the rectangle of the gift shop basement.
Not long after that, my friend left the college so I never had the opportunity to investigate further, but I still wonder just what it was that he saw.
I went to a local college, and this college was full of its own ghost stories - and for good reason. Most of the buildings were built in the 1800s, only barely upgraded to be 'modern.' Some of the buildings didn't have air conditioning. Others didn't have elevators, and their stares creaked as you climbed them. My favourite of all was the fact that the music building was haunted by the man who had donated the money to have it built. He had designed the pipe organ in the building's auditorium, and while he'd been alive, he'd made time each month to come and play his pipe organ. Even after his death, once a month, the pipe organ would sound off to an empty building - but this isn't the story I was going to tell.
The college required its students to work on the campus to help offset the cost of their tuition. Though I worked in the library, my best friend of many years had a job in the gift shop of a hotel that was attached to the college campus. On Halloween, we made plans that I would meet him at the gift shop and we would drive around and enjoy our Halloween together, gothed out like crazy and freaking out the normals.
I joined him in the gift shop as he was closing up, both of us talking about nothing, but I couldn't help but notice how he kept glancing toward the back of the shop. I asked him what was going on and he told me that he had to take something down to the basement but he hated the basement. "Why?" I asked, having been practically led into the question.
He didn't tell me much of a story, but he told me that he always felt watched when he went down there. Like there was someone else down there who didn't want him in their space. I volunteered to take the spare stock downstairs for him, having not even known that there was a basement, but he wouldn't let me go alone. Both of us went downstairs instead, him with the stock, and me leading the way.
The basement was a small, crowded space with boxes under and on top of counters that lined the walls, and on a long bench that bisected the room, leaving a narrow path in a rectangle that began and ended at the staircase. I could feel what he'd mentioned. There was a definite sense of darkness and dank even with the lights on and no sign of mildew. I started looking around me, being curious, before I told my friend that I wanted to walk around. Just once, I promised him.
So I started to walk. The boxes were stacked almost to shoulder-height, and hanging from racks on the ceiling were even more, but I could still see my friend from every point in the room. I went slow, trying to stretch out my senses and hear or see or feel something out of the ordinary. As I reached the first corner, my friend started urging me to hurry. I answered him that the room was small and nothing weird was going on. I asked him why but he wouldn't give me an answer, so I kept going at my leisurely pace.
I did as promised and made just one circuit of the room, ready to head back up, but I couldn't help but notice that my friend was looking very pale as we went back up the stairs, finished locking up the store, and went out to his car. Once we were driving away, I asked him why he'd been trying to get me to go so much faster. It took him a few seconds to answer but he finally told me that halfway down the room on that first leg of my miniature journey, he'd seen something form up behind me, a green mist, and follow me all along the rectangle of the gift shop basement.
Not long after that, my friend left the college so I never had the opportunity to investigate further, but I still wonder just what it was that he saw.