Sigma Eta

Your Favorite Ghost Story

Victor stood by his window, finishing off the last of his sandwich as he gazed past the road and hedgerow towards the house that had wholly consumed his attention. Eating in his office was a peaceful escape from social interaction, and considering he wasn't brave enough for the lines at the student dining halls he always had to make due with a rather depressing sandwich. He was no chef, though what he was able to successfully spread onto two slices of bread must count for something. Besides, it was preferable for Victor to sit alone with his thoughts for a long while; it was much easier than having to share information to someone over a rather forced small talk. There was no one who would understand his thought processes these days anyway. IT seemed as though he was the only one who had such a fascination for that house, one that didn't boarder yet upon fear. Martha was paralyzed in her overthinking; she treated the house as if it was possessed by evil when in fact it must only be a structure, a purely fascinating structure. As time went by, Victor began to credit his apartment experience as something little more than an episode, a strange hallucination that had come upon by his high stress and even higher curiosity. The world continued as he had always understood it before and after that moment, oh but with such a brief hiatus of insanity could he really take it so seriously? The things which haunted him were only questions, answers which were hidden within the structure of that building, not ghosts! It was silly to consider that the world of the dead could overlap with the world of the living in such a brief encounter. And so he dismissed it, decided that there was more work to be done than to be obsessing over what may or may not have been real. What Victor did know was that the house was real, and that its memories were real as well. But what gave it that power, and what brought it to its doom? Now was no time for digging about in that folder, and while he did have it locked in his briefcase (one which traveled everywhere with him, even to the bathroom) he knew that he could be interrupted in any moment. Victor treated that file as his own dark secret, one that could cater towards other people's obsessions if he allowed its existence to be known. Victor tapped along the edge of the window frame, watching as the students walked to and from the campus center, some with boxes of takeout lunch and others with backpacks slung across their shoulders. It was a strange thing to see such a myriad of different people, all with different agendas, all with different viewpoints. Victor could recognize a handful of the students from his classes, mostly by the top of their heads and nothing more. Names did not come so easily to him, even if he had made it a habit to call role every day. As he watched the students go by he noticed a particular group of girls, all dressed in white dresses with small white hats perched atop their heads. They looked to be dressed for some sort of costume show, as if they were to be putting on a play later on in their classes. Oh despite their purpose they seemed to be dressed entirely inappropriately for the season, considering it was getting down below freezing tonight and their legs were dressed only in thin stockings, with their arms bare! Victor shivered for them, though as they walked swiftly through the campus he realized that they were going a different way than all the rest. The main flow of students were going towards the residence halls or the dining halls, no one but the girls clad in white were going towards the main road, towards a cross walk hardly used, to a door never opened. Victor seemed to sense where the girls were headed before they arrived, and as soon as the toe of their leader stepped off of the yellow curb he flew out the door, abandoning even his most prized briefcase as he tried to catch the group of girls who were heading to the very threshold he so desperately wanted to step through! They were going into the house! Victor raced down the staircase, fighting against the one or two students who were in the stairwell going either direction. It was three stories to the ground, nearly a minute by the time the professor burst through the door, just enough to catch the girls as they tread so lightly up the few steps that separated the sidewalk from the hill upon which Sigma Eta perched. They seemed to carry sunlight as they went, beaming in pure radiance as the group of girls passed along the sidewalk and into-no, through- the door. Victor halted, shivering as the wind began to pass underneath his slackened collar and down the front of his shirt. He stared, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed if anything at all! Another hallucination, perhaps? A vision, catering to his newfound trend of the supernatural? The girls were real; he knew that to be sure. But the door never budged, but through they went! As if they had passed through the solid oak as no more than air, it never moved and yet they vanished upon impact? They were not hiding, were they, nor sneaking through a cat flap that he did not notice upon his inspection?
"Professor Trevor! Chilly day to be standing out in nothing but your shirt!" called an unfamiliar voice, though one that was not as suspicious as might have been necessitated. Victor hesitated, not wanting to break his attention should the troop of girls appear back out of the house, or crawl out from wherever they were hiding. At last a figure appeared to his right, an undeniable form of a thin man lingering just along the edge of his peripheral vision. Well it would be rude, at this point, to blatantly ignore whoever was his caller. At last Victor allowed his concentration to waver, allowing his full attention to the man who seemed to know his name.
"Yes, my apologies I was...well I thought I saw something is all." Victor muttered quickly, running hand nervously through his combed hair as he offered an apologetic smile to his visitor. The man was someone he recognized from the building, though not necessarily from the department. Whoever it was seemed to be older, though only perhaps within a ten year range. He was taller than most, with a very gaunt look to him, as if he had been missing most meals throughout his life. His gray eyes were hidden behind a pair of very small circular glasses, and while he couldn't be more than forty five his short hair was a shocking shade of gray, at such a perfect salt and pepper that he must have been intentionally dying it. Victor stared at the man for a moment longer, trying to process just who he was and how they might have had any communication in the past. When each one of these theories deteriorated he must have had a telling look upon his face, for the stranger allowed himself a small laugh of apology.
"Ah, I see my mistake. I'm not sure we had ever been formally introduced." The man said at last.
"Perhaps not." Victor agreed nervously.
"Professor Reginald Musgrave, the architect." The man introduced, stretching out a gloved hand in welcome.
"Oh yes? An interesting title, I wasn't aware we offered any architectural classes here." Victor muttered, taking the man's hand nonetheless and grasping it in a friendly way.
"Only what I teach." Musgrave agreed. "But it's job security, if anything else."
"Are you in Wilson Hall?" Victor wondered.
"I am, on the lower floor." Musgrave agreed. Victor nodded, figuring that must be why the man's face was so familiar to him.
"I'm on the third, with the math department." Victor added, though he was sure that this Musgrave probably already knew that. The man smiled with that previous knowledge, beginning to drift towards the building in a way that summoned Victor to follow.
"What are you doing outside in such a state? You looked like a man possessed." Musgrave commented at last, walking slowly down the sidewalk all the while Victor began to shiver. After the initial shock of seeing the girls go by he felt the elements begin to sink in, the chill in the air and the damp humidity that stuck to his skin like a frozen sweat.
"I noticed something, that's all. Something irregular." Victor admitted, admitting to the only portion of his strange vision that would make him sound remotely sane. It wasn't a lie of course, but it wasn't a whole truth.
"Well you wouldn't be the first to report something strange from that side of the road. That house in particular, well I'd be lying if I didn't claim to think there was something funny about it." Musgrave admitted. They passed through the doors together, Musgrave holding open the door as Victor pulled his arms even closer towards his chest, trying to preserve what body heat he could muster. The stairwell was a welcomed feeling, a warm invitation to the world of the inside.
"You've seen something too?" Victor asked anxiously, stopping in his tracks so as to conduct a more thorough interrogation. His eyes lit up in excitement, though he tried to contain himself to a normal level. He certainly didn't need Professor Musgrave thinking he was some sort of obsessive freak, especially not when they had only properly known each other for about a minute.
"Well, I'm not sure I've seen anything in particular. But knowing what I do about houses that stay untouched and unmaintained for fifty years, well I think there's a strange business in it all." Musgrave said confidently.
"Oh you mean, you mean architecturally?" Victor muttered, allowing himself to feel but a little bit disappointed. In a brief moment he had hoped to hear something that made a little bit less sense than mere architecture, he had hoped that Musgrave would be willing to share some otherworldly observations.
"Well yes, what else might have been strange?" Musgrave clarified, looking towards Victor with a rather worried look.
"I've just heard rumors, that's all. Rumors that might be getting to my head." Victor admitted hesitantly, to which Musgrave nodded sharply. He tugged the end of his scarf from underneath his jacket, hanging either end on opposite shoulders and giving a rather apologetic smile.
"Oh the gibberish of the townspeople, they'll talk about anything too long if you let them." he assured.
"You don't believe the stories then?" Victor wondered.
"What sort of stories?" Musgrave clarified with a blink.
"Ghost stories." Victor elaborated, feeling smaller and smaller under the never wavering glance of Professor Musgrave. The Professor gave a smile, perhaps not giving Victor's claims a passing thought.
"Ghost stories are just that...stories. I'm sorry Professor, but I do enjoy the logical side of conversation." Musgrave admitted with a small shrug.
"I agree, yes that's why...well that's why I have been so shaken these days." Victor admitted quietly.
"Are you beginning to believe?" Musgrave wondered.
"I'd be lying to deny it." the Professor mumbled, keeping his head down and his eyes away from Musgrave's gray eyed stare.
"Well then, I'd say what you need is a break from the havoc, yes? How about this, Professor? A cup of coffee, say Friday afternoon? After your last class?" Musgrave suggested. Victor blinked, astonished to hear what could only be an invitation to an actual friendship. He had almost figured the day would never come when someone would want to spend time with him outside of the traditional classroom setting.
"Well, yes that would be splendid. My last class ends at three o'clock, I could meet you downstairs afterwards?" Victor suggested a bit anxiously, trying not to jump too eagerly upon the offer. He had to play it rather calmly, trying to make it seem as though he had other things to do than teach his classes and mope around his apartment.
"That works perfectly. I'll see you then, and do try to think of your favorite ghost story. I'm interested to hear what the people have to say about such a strange building." Musgrave said with a little smile. Victor managed but a little grin, nearly immobilized by his strange almost childish excitement. It was exhilarating, better than any drug on the market, to make a new friend!
"I will, certainly." Victor agreed, bowing his head in something of confirmation as he gave a little smile. Musgrave returned that smile, and with a quick but polite goodbye he turned and disappeared down the hallway towards where his office might be, vanishing into one of the many doors that Victor could not determine against the rest. He turned too quickly, figuring it would be considered rude to stare at someone as they walked away, and so he busied himself with climbing the floors to his office. He felt breathless in a curious sense, excited with a curious anticipation that was eating away at his eager heart. It was not every day that he met a kindred spirit, and perhaps that day still had not come. But for someone to pay attention to him, or rather to care enough to reach out when he looked lost, was something that had not happened in a long while. Not since he had moved to this strange town, at least. Not in a long while.