The Old Dorm’s Haunting Secrets

The old school building was shrouded in absolute darkness, so dense that one couldn’t see a hand held before their face. Only the blurred outlines of surrounding objects were discernible, yet these faint shapes were more than enough to ignite a vivid imagination. Dorothy, in particular, would immediately aim her flashlight to confirm anything that even remotely resembled a human figure.

As they passed one room, Dorothy’s gaze caught a tall, slender shadow lurking in its corner. With a hesitant hand, she shifted her flashlight beam, only to reveal a simple, dust-laden coat rack draped with an old jacket.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she hastened to catch up with Yu Tianman. Ahead, Yu Tianman seemed to be reveling in the exploration, a miniature flashlight clipped casually behind her ear, her phone constantly raised to capture photos of their surroundings.

“There are a lot of glass shards on the ground, so watch your step,” our leader cautioned.

“Are you babysitting us?” Dorothy retorted, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “This place is truly massive. The architectural structure and materials don’t seem to have any inherent flaws. While it’s certainly run-down, a good renovation could make it perfectly habitable. Why on earth was it abandoned?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Yu Tianman responded, clearly having anticipated the question. “Rumors of ghosts have plagued this building for over a decade. Do you truly believe they’re mere fabrications, Dot?” She deliberately cast the flashlight beam across her own face, her voice dropping to an eerie whisper, a mysterious, unsettling smile playing on her lips as she gazed back.

“The legend claims there was once a student, bright and cheerful, with excellent grades, even a piano competition champion,” Yu Tianman continued, her voice laced with dramatic flair. “Then, one day, he suddenly began to lose his mind. His speech became slurred, his pupils turned a ghastly white, and at night, he’d abruptly rise to chant strange incantations. Even the largest hospital in the city couldn’t diagnose his condition.”

“Then, during class, he inexplicably made his way to the dorm’s rooftop,” she recounted, her words painting a vivid, chilling picture. “He leaned forward, tumbled, and plummeted vertically, his head striking the ground first, bursting into a gruesome spray of blood. His body lay there, impaled as if by an unseen force. Subsequently, every student residing in the school building began to dream of a grotesque, blood-soaked monster, its terrifying cackle echoing as it relentlessly pursued them. The principal, desperate, even summoned local high monks to perform an exorcism that lasted three days and three nights, yet the horrifying incidents persisted without end…”

“Alright, Yu Tianman,” I interjected, cutting off her dramatic monologue. “Keep going, and Dorothy might actually start foaming at the mouth.”

“What do you mean by that, you with the surname Yi!” she snapped, her voice bristling with indignation. “Are you implying that I’m scared?”

“You’ve been hunching your shoulders this whole time.”

“I was merely cold!” she gritted out, her teeth practically clenching. “Don’t you dare make assumptions about me, understood? Stories like these can’t even be found online, and they’re certainly not reported in the news. Ultimately, it’s just idle gossip passed between bored students for their own amusement. What reason do I have to be afraid?”

Dorothy argued her point with fervent conviction, as if her burgeoning anger served as a potent antidote to her underlying fear. I offered no objection.

Our footsteps, a symphony of crunching gravel and scraping wall plaster, echoed through the derelict hall. We navigated past overturned shoe racks and splintered wooden cabinets, eventually reaching the stairwell. Though the window in the stairwell stood open, it was positioned too high, offering only a glimpse of the tree leaves outside.

Our initial intention was to proceed directly to the third floor. However, we discovered that the path between the second and third floors had been deliberately obstructed with an assortment of furniture, including wardrobes and wooden tables. It was abundantly clear that someone wished to prevent access to the upper level.

Dust motes shimmered and danced in the flashlight’s beam as Yu Tianman meticulously examined the deliberate obstruction before us. The furniture, evidently tossed down from the floor above, had piled up haphazardly, each piece wedged against another. Attempting to clear such a barricade by hand to ascend the stairs was clearly an unrealistic endeavor.

“Let’s try our luck with the stairwell on the opposite side,” she suggested. The architectural blueprint of this building closely mirrored the other school dorms, implying the presence of stairwells on both ends. “If that side is also blocked, then we’ll truly be out of options.”

“You sound remarkably nonchalant about it,” Dorothy observed. “I half expected you to be terribly disappointed.”

“I *am* truly disappointed!” she exclaimed. “I came here specifically for the thrill of it. If we end up with absolutely nothing, I’ll be incredibly displeased.”

Consequently, we continued along the corridor, forced to make a full circuit to reach the opposite side. In a contemporary dormitory, a skybridge would undoubtedly connect the two wings, but such a design or engineering feat likely didn’t exist during the construction of this old building.

On the second floor, every area illuminated by our flashlights was just as dilapidated as the floor below. However, the internal layouts of the rooms presented some distinctions; several appeared to be single units, likely once serving as living quarters for teachers or dorm managers.

Through a grimy windowpane, I spotted a small, illuminated shack nestled within the school’s green belt, not far from the old school building. It was a crude and unattractive structure, essentially a matchbox-like building hastily constructed from red bricks and cement.

Finally, we arrived at the stairwell on the opposite end. However, it did not grant Yu Tianman’s wish; a heavy, steel fire shutter door loomed starkly before her. Refusing to be deterred, she attempted to lift it with her bare hands, but it was evidently secured by a robust mechanical locking system, rendering it impossible to open by human strength alone.

“Why would a building from over a decade ago even have equipment like this!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with exasperation. “This is… this is so utterly anticlimactic! I was all prepared… how could it be like this…” Her words dissolved into a lament of unbridled disappointment.

This sudden setback, ironically, made Dorothy — who had just felt a surge of relief at not having to ascend further — feel a pang of sympathy. She gently patted Yu Tianman’s back. “There, there,” she consoled. “There are no ghosts to begin with, so how could we possibly find anything? At least we made the trip and took some photos. Isn’t that enough?”

Yu Tianman yearned to press onward, to transform this outing into a cherished memory for their casual club, something they could fondly reminisce about with a knowing smile years down the line. Dorothy, however, while reluctant to shatter Yu Tianman’s aspirations, was undeniably ill-equipped to handle such an eerie atmosphere. While companionship was her personal desire, the instinct to flee was deeply ingrained within her.

I found myself torn, debating whether to speak, knowing that my decision could only satisfy one of them. After a moment of careful consideration, weighing the potential outcomes, I resolved to make a mistake. After all, it seemed I was destined to err no matter what I did.

“If there’s power, the button next to it should be able to open it,” I stated.

“What kind of nonsense are you spouting?” Dorothy retorted, her brow furrowed in a frown. “Does this building look like it has any electricity running through it?”

“Equipment like this is typically linked to a separate circuit as a failsafe,” I explained. “The distribution room should be located within the dorm manager’s office.”

‘…’ She seemed to have a retort poised on her tongue, but ultimately swallowed it. What finally surfaced was her usual disdainful expression. “You certainly know a lot. You haven’t, by any chance, been like a primary school student, doing all sorts of research in anticipation of an adventure, have you?”

“I learned this while I was working part-time,” I replied. “The master at the repair shop taught me.”

Dorothy’s defiant bravado gradually deflated upon hearing my explanation. Her expression softened back to its usual calm, “Oh,” she murmured, though her eyes still darted away to the side.

“So,” she began, scratching her head thoughtfully, “the dorm manager’s office is on the first floor, isn’t it? That means we have to go all the way back downstairs, correct?”

“It appears so.”

“Alright, alright… let’s go then.”

The beams of our flashlights pivoted, illuminating the stairwell leading from the second to the first floor. However, only two lights moved; one remained conspicuously behind.

“I’ve just had a thought,” Yu Tianman mused, resting a hand against her chin. “To conserve time, wouldn’t it be more efficient for us to split up?”

“Huh?” Dorothy uttered, clearly bewildered.

“Look, many of these rooms here are locked, aren’t they?” she explained. “So, it’s quite possible that room 317 upstairs will also be locked. I’ll search for a spare key here on the second floor, while you two head downstairs to open the shutter door.”

“You’re really getting into the spirit of this, aren’t you?” Dorothy questioned, her brow furrowed with concern. “What if something happens to you while you’re running around alone?”

“Hm?” She tilted her head innocently. “There are no demons or monsters anyway, and the school building only has this single corridor. What could possibly go wrong? Besides, we’re just here to have fun, aren’t we?”

“Tsk, if we’re going to do it, we should do it together. It’ll only take a little more time…”

“Alright, alright, stop being such a fuss, Dot,” Yu Tianman chided, the roles now completely reversed. “Just listen obediently to my instructions as your captain. Team member Yi Chang, Team member Dorothy, the first floor is all yours.”

With that, she offered a quick salute, retreated a few steps, and then swiftly darted out of the range of our flashlights, leaving us no opportunity to retort.

“That *b*tch*,” Dorothy muttered, an unfiltered curse escaping her lips. “Come on, let’s the two of us head downstairs.”

I pulled out my phone, checking the time and battery level. Both were ample, a testament to my preparedness. As I returned the device to my pocket, I noticed that Dorothy, who had previously been walking ahead, was now directly beside me, her shoulder pressed uncomfortably close to mine.

Upon reaching the first-floor hall, I found that Dorothy had already retreated to hide directly behind me. As I scanned the floor plan for the dorm manager’s office, I could distinctly feel her shallow breaths against my back. The office itself was located in the right-hand corridor of the hall, a path we had already traversed once on our way to the second floor.

“Hey, Yi Chang,” Dorothy whispered, tugging at my sleeve from behind. “Did we actually close the main door when we entered?”

Only at her words did I truly take notice: the main entrance to the old school building was now tightly shut, the door panels sealed with an unnerving precision.

I approached the main door, intending to test if it would open normally. Dorothy, still clinging to my sleeve, slowly trailed behind me. My hand closed around the heavy door handle, and I pressed down with all my might.

It wouldn’t budge.

I felt the erratic, panicked breaths against my back. Dorothy had clearly lost her composure, her grip on my sleeve tightening to an almost painful degree.

“Don’t you dare tell me,” I heard the distinct tremor in her voice, “that this door locked itself.”

“Dorothy…”

“Wh-what is it?”

“Do you find the idea of ghosts in this school building more frightening, or the possibility of a fourth person being here more terrifying?”

“They’re *both* terrifying, alright!” she cried, and I genuinely feared she was on the verge of tears. “Try again quickly! Maybe it’s just jammed. Please, try it now!”

I was already trying everything. Whether I pushed, lifted, or pulled, the handle and the heavy door remained stubbornly motionless. It appeared we were truly trapped inside.

“Then what do we do? How are we going to get out of here? Can I call my nanny to come and rescue me now?”

“There’s no signal here,” I informed her.

The school itself was situated on the periphery of the city; Gao Qinghong frequently griped about how even playing games with mobile data would lag. The old school building, nestled even further on the edge and backed by a mountain, rendered any signal completely nonexistent.

“Then what are we going to do!”

Dorothy had completely lost her composure. It was evident she was genuinely terrified, and I began to doubt the wisdom of my earlier decision. Witnessing her trembling, fear-stricken state, I felt a surge of responsibility, as if I had wronged her.

“Perhaps the wind simply blew the door shut,” I suggested, trying to sound reassuring. “Yu Tianman is looking for keys, isn’t she? We should head to the dorm manager’s office ourselves. After we open the shutter door, we can look for keys there. If all else fails, we can always jump from the second floor. I’ll be there to catch you.”

She buried her head, contemplating my words, though I suspected her mind was too clouded by fear to process them properly. After a brief silence, she nodded obediently. “Mm, okay.”

We proceeded towards the right side of the old school building. Dorothy’s flashlight had somehow ended up in my hand, while my own was clipped behind my ear, mimicking Yu Tianman’s earlier gesture. This arrangement was necessitated by Dorothy’s current state: both her hands were clutching my clothes, and her head was pressed against my back, too afraid to even look up.

The dorm manager’s office lay just ahead, but my gaze was snared by a particular object. While I couldn’t claim extensive knowledge of foreign cultures, I had certainly encountered numerous urban legends in comics and games. One such legend involved the very thing now positioned behind the door: a human anatomical model.

“Why did you stop? Wh-what’s happening?”

I felt my shirt being nearly torn from my back by her frantic grip.

“Hey, Dorothy,” I called out to the girl behind me. “Do you know about a certain Japanese urban legend?”

“What are you doing? Are you going to tell me a scary story to frighten me, just like Yu Tianman?” she whimpered pitifully.

“If you’re scared, I won’t tell it.”

“I’m not scared at all.”

Even in this state, she still tried to act tough.

“Just look up first.”

The pressure on my back vanished. Tentatively, she raised her head, and the moment her eyes fell upon the blurred figure behind the door, a piercing scream escaped her throat, nearly rupturing my eardrums.

“What is that, what is that!” She buried her head completely into my back now. “I want to go home, I want to go home! I want to go home, boo hoo, Yi Chang, please take me home!”

She seemed thoroughly terrified.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s just a human anatomical model.” Though I longed to pat her head, she was hiding behind me, out of reach.

She timidly peered over my shoulder, then recoiled behind me again in fear, using both hands to forcefully shift me, positioning me between herself and the anatomical model. After a moment, she poked her head out once more, determined to confirm whether the blurry figure was indeed just a model.

“See? I told you it was just an anatomical model.”

“Anatomical models are scary too!” she shrieked. “Why would you make me look at it? Are you happy that you scared me? Do you enjoy seeing me terrified?” She sounded on the verge of tears, genuinely angry. “Boo hoo, I hate you, Yi Chang. If a monster comes, you stand in front of me and die for me. I’ll just run away by myself.”

She was rather cute.

“Alright, alright, listen to me. It’s not a horror story, just an urban legend,” I reassured her. “It says that the school’s anatomical models move around by themselves at night.”

“That *is* a horror story!”

Her fingers were pinching the flesh on my back, and it stung immensely.

“Even though they move, they just walk around. They don’t harm anyone.”

“Then what do they do when they move?”

“Who knows?” I replied. “Maybe they get tired of staying in one position all day and just want to stretch their limbs at night.”

The girl behind me remained silent. After what felt like three heartbeats, a small giggle escaped her. She quickly suppressed it, so only a single chuckle was heard.

“Boring,” she declared. “If you have time for such nonsense, why don’t you hurry and go inside?”

I shrugged. Past the room housing the anatomical model, the next door led to the dorm manager’s office. Fortunately, the door wasn’t locked. Upon entering, we saw two doors, one on the left and one on the right. The one on the right was likely the room where the model was displayed, so we headed left, to what we hoped was the distribution room.

“Can you handle this?” Dorothy asked me. “You know, circuits and stuff.”

“I learned a bit from the people at my part-time job,” I replied. “But I’m not entirely confident. Don’t cling to me right now; it could be dangerous.”

“Mm, okay,” Dorothy was unusually compliant today. “If you get electrocuted, I’ll use something to push you away.”

“Is that so? I’m deeply grateful, then.”

I opened the electrical box and examined the circuits within. Conveniently, a simple tutorial diagram for activating the backup circuit was pasted beside the box. Following the instructions, I inserted the different colored wires into their corresponding slots. Then, I attempted to switch on the power.

The lights in the distribution room flickered on for a split second, only to die out with a distinct sizzling sound.

“What’s… what happened?” Dorothy asked.

“Looks like a fuse blew,” I stated. “We’ll need to replace it.”

“But where would we find a fuse here?” Dorothy worried, her voice laced with urgency. “Even if there were some, where would we even look?”

“It’s fine. I anticipated this situation, so I brought a few.”

I pulled several different models of fuses from my pocket, then removed the blown fuse to compare them. “Why… why would you bring fuses?”

“When you’re going to a haunted house or a ruin, wouldn’t you expect to need fuses?” I said. “Alright, this is the right model.”

As the new fuse was inserted, I reactivated the power. The lights in the dorm manager’s office flickered on. Dorothy peered out the window, and though the backup power was now connected, only a few scattered lights illuminated the old school building. Most were either flickering erratically or completely dead, failing to brighten the place and instead making it appear even more eerie.

“It’s done. Not bad, Yi Chang. We should be able to go to the third floor now. Let’s hurry and meet up with Yu Tianman.”

“Should we go check the room next door to see if that anatomical model has moved?”

“Don’t even think about scaring me again; I’ve had enough for today,” Dorothy declared. “Now, we go to 317, find out what’s there, get the key, go home, shower, and sleep, okay?”

“Alright, alright.”

Just as we pushed open the door to the distribution room, a bizarre sight greeted us.

The anatomical model stood directly in front of the door.

A scream immediately erupted beside my ear.