The semester had just started, and the dorms at Crestwood University were already a battlefield of boxes, coffee cups, and emotional breakdowns.
Somewhere between the smell of instant noodles and the sound of people arguing over outlet space, five friends began what they thought would be a normal college year.
Big mistake.
The Crew
There was Ethan, the self-proclaimed "brains" of the group who once tried to fix a microwave with a spoon.
Then Mason, the chill guy who somehow always had energy drinks and zero sleep.
Liam, the overthinker who carried anxiety like it was a full-time job.
Chloe, the sarcastic one, armed with iced coffee and academic rage.
And Jade, the calm soul who kept everyone alive through sheer patience.
They had met during orientation week, bonded over how lost they were, and quickly formed what they proudly called "The Survivors Club." Their group chat description read: "If one fails, we all drop out."
So far, the plan was working beautifully — except for one thing.
Room 302.
The Warning
Ethan had lucked out with a solo dorm. Or so he thought.
His room, tucked away at the far end of the hallway, was weirdly cold even during late August.
Every time someone walked past it, they felt… off.
Not scared — just uneasy, like someone was watching from behind the door.
When Ethan told the others, Mason laughed it off.
"Bro, it's just bad ventilation. Or maybe the ghost of whoever invented 8 a.m. classes."
But by week two, the jokes stopped.
Because something in Room 302 had started responding.
The Incident
It began small.
Ethan texted the group chat at 2:47 a.m.:
> Ethan: guys my lamp turned on by itself
Chloe: maybe u paid ur electric bill late and it's celebrating
Ethan: not funny. it turned on AGAIN.
Liam: bro go to sleep
Ethan: IT JUST SAID HI
Mason: who said hi
Ethan: THE LAMP MASON THE FREAKING LAMP
The next morning, everyone laughed about it over breakfast.
Ethan was known for pulling pranks, so they didn't buy it. But when they went to his dorm later that day, the air felt heavy. The lights flickered once, twice — then stayed dim like the room itself was breathing.
"Dude…" Mason whispered, glancing around. "Why does it smell like old candles and depression?"
Ethan looked pale. "Because every time I try to leave, something whispers my name."
Liam stepped closer to the window, which was fogged up even though the air conditioner was off. And written across the glass, in shaky letters, was one word:
> STAY.
Everyone froze. For a solid ten seconds, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan.
Then Chloe broke the tension with her usual dry tone.
"Well," she said, sipping her coffee, "guess you've got a roommate."
Investigation Time
Naturally, they didn't go to campus security or call an exorcist.
They decided to investigate — because they were broke college students with too much free time and not enough sense.
Mason grabbed his phone and started filming.
"Alright, BuzzFeed Unqualified, episode one: Ethan's haunted dorm."
Liam groaned. "Can we not summon Satan for clout?"
Chloe shrugged. "If Satan's giving out scholarships, I'm in."
They split up around the room like professionals — except their "equipment" consisted of:
A phone flashlight,
A salt shaker from the cafeteria,
And Jade's homemade "ghost detector," which was just an old radio she modified to buzz when frequencies fluctuated.
At first, nothing happened.
Then Jade's radio started hissing.
Ethan backed up immediately. "Nope. Nope, I'm done. You guys can have the room. I'll live in the laundry building."
The radio hiss turned into static, then into faint, whispery words. None of them could make it out clearly — except Chloe, who tilted her head.
"It's saying something about… the basement?"
Liam blinked. "There isn't a basement."
"There is now," Mason muttered.
The Basement
The next day, curiosity — or stupidity — won.
They found a locked maintenance door behind the vending machines on the first floor. Ethan, being Ethan, picked the lock using a fork.
It opened to a staircase that led down into darkness.
Jade turned on her flashlight. "This is definitely not in the brochure."
The steps creaked as they descended. The deeper they went, the colder it got. The walls were lined with pipes and old electrical panels. And then, at the bottom, they found it:
An empty hallway.
And at the very end — a single metal door with a faded sign that read:
> 302.
Liam's breathing hitched. "Guys… that's not funny."
"It's not supposed to be," Ethan whispered. "This door's been here since before the dorms were renovated. I looked it up."
Mason, ever the brave idiot, grabbed the handle and pulled.
The door creaked open — and a wave of freezing air hit them. Inside was a small, dark room.
In the center sat a single chair. And on the chair… was a name tag.
Ethan picked it up. The letters were almost worn away, but he could still read it:
> E. Carter.
His last name.
Everyone stared.
"That's not possible," Liam muttered. "You just moved here."
"Yeah," Ethan said quietly. "But my dad went to Crestwood too… decades ago."
Silence. Then the door slammed shut behind them.
The Whispering Room
Panic hit instantly. Chloe started pounding on the door while Mason fumbled for his phone.
Ethan stood frozen, staring at the walls — because they weren't walls anymore. They were covered in faint outlines, handprints, faces pressing through like trapped smoke.
And then they heard it: a whisper, layered and endless, coming from every direction.
> "You came back."
The lights flickered.
Jade's flashlight died.
The cold became unbearable. Mason screamed as something grabbed his ankle and yanked him toward the chair. Liam and Chloe pulled him back while Ethan shouted at the air, "What do you want from me?!"
The whisper turned into a low, distorted voice.
> "Finish what he started."
Then, everything went black.
The Aftermath
When they woke up, they were lying in the dorm lounge.
Campus security said they'd been found unconscious near the vending machines, no injuries, no sign of forced entry.
No one believed their story.
But Room 302?
It was sealed off the next day.
The school claimed it was "under maintenance," but the tape around the door was marked Do Not Enter — Active Investigation.
Ethan never moved out, though.
Something in him had changed — like the ghost hadn't just haunted him… it had chosen him.
That night, when everyone else finally went to sleep, Ethan sat in his dark dorm, staring at the mirror.
And for a split second, another face stared back.
His father's.