Well folks, ‘tis the spooky season, so I thought I would write a special fear-inducing article for The SCARE-let… full of frightful shocks, Freudian horrors, and walls coated with the murderous color that is the name of this publication. Is it just ketchup? Or something much more sinister?
Upon doing research, I found it had already been done. Less than a year ago one of our writers chronicled some of Clark’s “Creepiest Corridors” including the pit in the Johnson Sanford Center, Jefferson Hall’s medieval elevator, the basement of Estabrook, and the dreaded backstage in Atwood Hall. I, though–never one to bow down to fear–decided to dive into even more of Clark’s creepiness. This article is not spooky in the usual sense, however. The following areas range from hair-raisingly, spine-tinglingly creepy, to a bit dangerous, to just downright weird.
Did you know Dana Commons used to be a cafeteria? I didn’t, until I explored the building and found the old kitchen… although something tells me animal meat wasn’t the only thing sliced in there. The dimly-lit rooms contain a broken conveyor belt, blank shelves with food pantry labels, and a single black couch that, in fact, is actually quite comfortable, so long as you don’t think about what else it’s been used for. Half of the kitchen is corded off by a locked metal gate. What lies behind it? We may never find out.
While the Dana Commons kitchen is abandoned, a separate terror lies just behind a much livelier dining hall. If you’ve ever gone to the back of the Table at Higgins, or are a fan of the 2nd floor dining room, you’ve probably seen The Elevator. You’ve heard how it creaks and groans opening its door, like an old man trying to escape from a too soft-chair. Or how sometimes, it remains stuck on one floor, doors open, no matter how many times you press its buttons. If you are especially vigilant, you might even notice the permit expired in June of this year. Rumor has it that every time you enter The Elevator, there is a tiny chance you might never be seen again.
Speaking of elevators, have you ever looked at the floor of the one in Jonas Clark Hall? A trip to the lobotomy chair is not JC’s only creepy fright; you can see straight into the elevator shaft if you so choose. A removable metal plate is the only thing separating you from the horrors of the channel below. Legend says that Jonas Clark designed this elevator himself, giving him an easy way to hide the dead bodies of Clark students: Every time he claimed one of his victims, he would chop off their limbs and squeeze them into the shaft, piece by piece… Okay fine, I made that one up. But if while taking a peek “down under”, you ever hear the faint crying of lost souls… Well, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Most people probably won’t find the next item scary, but it is the subject of any architectural planner’s worst nightmares. This past freshman orientation, when the Class of 2028 took its class photo on The Green just outside Jefferson, the photographer stood on a ledge that, well… didn’t really have a door. It’s only access point is a small window one must squeeze through (hopefully our photographer wasn’t claustrophobic). This sparks many questions, including: Why does this exist? Was the ledge ever meant to be occupied? Who designed it? Why? Did their ex-husband-fellow-architect tragically leave them for a graphic designer back in ‘95 spawning a grudge against the entire academic field? I believe the real spook here is the inner workings of this person’s mind.
Just a stone’s toss from the Geography ledge is one of the worst places to be on campus. You know what it is: Carefully watched over by Sigmund Freud, the Red Square contains the sacred tiles which if one steps on they are destined never to graduate from Clark University. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from walking on them every time I go to Higgins. To hell with superstitions, I say! My friend jokes–er, I mean, the LEGENDS say that if you walk on it enough times you will graduate a year early. Is this true? Nobody has tried it before–I guess we will find out at graduation.
Rounding out the list is what I believe to be the spookiest, most horrifying place at Clark University. It’s so dangerous that authorities had to put signs specifically prohibiting students from entering: The staff elevator at Goddard Library. I will let you in on a secret, dear reader, bestowed onto me with only the utmost of trust and honor. There is a reason students aren’t allowed in the elevator. As soon as the doors close on you, the elevator cab quickly fills with a poisonous gas. My confidential source told me the only way to save yourself from this horrifying fate is to enter a special code in the control panel: A code only the Goddard Library staff can enter, and a code even I haven’t been able to ascertain. Otherwise, your body will be found weeks later by an unsuspecting staff member, hands clasping the neck, with a horrible expression on its face. Let this be a lesson to you all: DON’T USE THE STAFF ELEVATOR!!!