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When you live in Campion Hall, there is a possibility that it may be haunted. The building is home to more than just students of Seattle University; it is for some wayward souls a final resting place. However, they haven’t found much peace living amongst college students, and as a result are rather mischievous. These spirits are amused by our fear, and will likely try to make you uncomfortable. Certain students are more susceptible to ghostly encounters than others. First year residents are likely targets considering how new and confused they often are. Moving to a new place renders its own unique fears; first year students who are unfamiliar with Campion are more easily startled. Although upperclassmen are targeted less frequently, they are not immune. A specter may develop a personal fascination with the way any particular resident shows fear. The spirits of Campion Hall are not typically malicious, but no haunting is ever the same, and sometimes they will go too far.Â
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Imagine, it’s dead week: you’re behind on your paper, your room is a disaster, and you are wearing your last pair of clean undies. You spent the day with your friends thrifting and enjoying holiday festivities as a means to procrastinate for as long as you could. It’s late by the time you get back to your dorm, around 12, and you still need to do laundry as well as your final paper. Your roommate is out for the night. You gather your dirty clothes and head for the laundry room. You put your clothes in the wash, set a timer, and take the stairs to the lobby. In the lobby, it is quiet with only few students studying at the tables. You wait for the elevator. One arrives. You take it back to your floor.Â
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You still aren’t ready to tackle that paper when you get back to your room so you clean up a bit until your timer goes off. You grab your keys and SU ID on your way out the door. You walk down the long stretch of hall to the elevator and take it to the lobby. You get out and walk down the stairs the rest of the way to the basement. When you get to the laundry room, you get a text from one of your friends. She’s sent you a meme. As you laugh at it, you notice the time, 12:43. You send back a quick LOL, and begin to move your wet clothes from the washer into the dryer. You push the button to start it; you are now one of the last few people using the machines. You turn for the door, and hear a soft thump. You turn around, and there’s now a ball of socks on the floor by the machine you were using. They’re not yours. You exit the laundry room into the hallway before the basement elevators. As you pass through towards the stairwell door, you notice a tall shadow pass by further down the hall towards the men’s restrooms. You stop. Perhaps it was another student? You continue up the stairs, through the lobby, into the elevator up to your floor, and down the hall to your room.
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When you open the door, a cold gust of air blows into your face. You enter, and your room is decidedly colder than it was when you left. Perhaps you left a window open? You walk across the room to check, but discover that they’re all closed. You put on a flannel, and start to gather your supplies for your paper. Your laptop is dead, and as you search for the charger you notice that the corner by your closet is cast in an absurdly dark shadow. A shadow so dark, you can’t actually see the crevice where the walls meet. Darker than what should be possible with your light on. You shrug, and decide to write your paper in the floor lounge. You put everything you need into your bookbag and sling it over your shoulder. You grab your empty hamper, toss your keys, and SU ID inside, and trudge down the hall into the lounge. You settle down with your laptop, and notebook, and start writing.
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You’ve gotten into a groove, and forget about your clothes in the dryer. You finish your paper, and check the Instagram. Your phone displays the time, 2:50 a.m. You leave your stuff, grab your hamper, and remove your keys from it. You place them on the table, and put your SU ID in your pocket. As you go to call the elevator, right before you press the button, one arrives, and the doors slide open. Inside it is empty, and cold. You take it all the way down to the basement, watching the numbers displayed above the panel of buttons tick by. The doors open, and you walk to the laundry room. Inside, you open the door to the dryer and lovingly bask in the warmth of your fresh clothes. You start pulling things out, bending over to put them into your hamper. “SLAM,” the door to the washing machine immediately behind you shuts suddenly. You jerk upright, and turn around quickly, and scan the room. Empty. You start grabbing your clothes faster, hoist your hamper into your arms, and leave. As you wait for the elevator, you peer down the hall where you originally saw the tall dark shadow. It is illuminated only halfway, the end of it is encased in a smothering black darkness. The same impossibly dark darkness of the corner beside your closet. You force yourself to stop looking and enter the elevator before you. You put your hamper on the ground, and as you go to swipe your floor, 6, all the numbers preceding it illuminate. Before you can react, the elevator doors shut, and the metal box starts to rise.Â
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It passes the lobby, and stops on 2. You look out into the hall, nothing. You repeatedly press the doors close button to make your journey somewhat faster.  It stops at the 3rd floor, nothing. You push the button, dreading the agonizing seconds it takes for the doors to fully open and shut. It goes to the 4th, and you peer out into the floor’s lounge. You can’t see anything, not the window into city, not the couches, not anything but the same smothering darkness from the hallway. You are freezing, your thin flannel isn’t doing much to keep you warm. You keep your eyes glued to the numbers as the elevator stops at the 5th floor. You continue to punch the button. Five turns into six, and you scoop up your hamper, and dart into the lounge of your floor. You scoop everything into your bag as quickly as you can, slinging it over your shoulder. You can’t move fast enough. Across the room opposite the door, the corner is cast in a smothering black shadow. You sprint past it, but speed walk down the rest of the hall. Your shadow, cast along the floor, speeds with you. In this moment, you curse living on the long side of the hall. You finally stop at your door, and search for your keys. Your pockets are empty save for your SU ID. Your keys are in your backpack. You drop it, stoop to collect your keys, agonizing over how long it is taking you. As you are bent, you stop cold. Your shadow is infinitely larger than your body. It completely encompasses the underside of your feet and the entire floor until it reaches the door across from yours. You snatch up your key, slam it into the door. You press your weight against it, forcing it open, and fall into your room. You pull your bag and hamper into the room after you, and slam the door shut.Â
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Your room is warm. Your eyes dart to the corner by your closet, and you can see that the shadow is gone. You look at your own shadow, which is back to its regular size. You exhale. Your paper is done, and your room appears normal. You check the time on your microwave, 3:18. You decide to save folding your clothes for the morning, and toss your hamper back into its corner. You turn on your fairy lights and turn off your main lights as you get ready for bed. You think you’ll leave their soft glow on tonight. You get under the covers and scan the room. Nothing. You lay down on your side, and scan again. Nothing. Don’t worry, you’ll probably never see that shadow again. That is, unless it liked the way you ran.Â
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You sigh to yourself as you close your eyes and flip over onto your back. As you’re snuggling deeper into your covers you hear another sigh. You open your eyes. There’s a smothering black darkness in the corner of the ceiling above your bed, smiling at you. It speaks once, only once, before you fall helplessly into a deep sleep, surrounded by the chills of terror.
“Sweet dreams.”