Photo by Tebben Gill Lopez/The Mirror
The Jogues Killer – Kayla Valente
After a fun-filled night of trick or treating on their first Halloween at Fairfield, a group of freshman girls made their way back to Jogues Hall. They entered through the creepy back door and it was then that Maddi spotted the tempting vending machines. They decided to get a few midnight snacks before heading to bed. The girls were too busy laughing and telling stories from the night to even hear the melody coming from the room down the hall.
Feeling adventurous, the girls convinced Mary-Kate to play the piano if they could find which room it was in. After peeking into a bunch of rooms, the girls were getting a little creeped out. Eventually they spotted the piano and opened the door. It was then that they finally heard the tune that was filling this small, eerie room, regardless of the fact that there was no one in there. They were paralyzed with fear and completely shocked as they gazed upon the keys that were moving up and down even though they were the only ones in the room … or so they thought.
Suddenly, Maddi pulled out her phone to call DPS and realized that she had no service, none of them did. The door slammed shut and a man dressed in all black seemingly appeared from nowhere. He laughed as he pulled out a knife and said “Trick or Treat.”
That was all the security cameras captured from that Halloween night many years ago. As you might suspect, the girls were never seen again. Their bodies were never found, but it is said that each Halloween they return to the piano room in Jogues to eat snacks, play a tune, and wait for the guy to come back so that they can seek their long-awaited revenge.
Ghost Nun of Dolan – Meaghan Conlon
I was in Barone the other day and overheard a table talking about the weird occurrences that have been happening at Dolan Hall. They spoke of hearing strange noises at odd hours of the morning and catching a glimpse of a white figure out of the corner of their eye.
“You know a nun hung herself there years ago, right?” one girl tells her friends. “Maybe it’s her ghost.” They laugh, but my curiosity was piqued — a haunted campus? Sounds like episode of “Supernatural.” The hunter in me was excited for a possible ghost sighting.
Blame the TV, blame the media, blame whomever you choose — I went against all human instinct and decide to actively seek out the supposed ghost of Dolan Hall. As dusk approached, I made my way up to Dolan — realizing not for the first time how isolated it is from the other buildings on campus.
I had my flashlight, salt and a few ghost-repelling phrases I had picked up from my favorite TV show. Sneaking my way into the building was easy, exploring with nothing but a small flashlight took guts, but I was determined to find this ghost.
I heard the scraping of furniture and followed the sound to a stairwell that lead to nowhere. Standing at a cement wall, a dead end for me, I turned and caught my breath. For a moment, in the window I could have sworn I saw the outline of a woman in a nun’s habit. I felt a chill come over me and I swear I could see my breath in the air. A whispering that wasn’t the wind reached my ears and I could feel myself losing the courage I thought I had.
Quickly retreating the way I came, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a loud snap. Looking up in the rafters, I saw a body swinging, a noose and a large cross around the neck. I ran, tripping and sprawling out across the floor. I felt something leave my pocket as I dropped the salt, flashlight, and my phone. Grabbing whatever I saw, I bolted and ran in record time back to Loyola.
At the door I reached for my StagCard only to find it missing. Cursing for having dropped it and not noticing it was missing, I called my roommate to let me in. I gave her a bunch of half-truths and made plans to get my card the next day.
I got ready for bed as if nothing had occurred and I fell asleep rather quickly, though I may have had more blankets wrapped around me than necessary. At one point during the night I thought I heard footsteps, but I dismissed it as my roommate having to go to the bathroom.
The next morning I awoke to find my StagCard resting on the dresser at the head of my bed. The door was still locked from the night before. My roommate was still fast asleep. I panicked and felt it was my duty to warn all of you of the ghost residing on our campus. All I can think of now a phrase that I heard in my dream the night I saw her, “Sweet dreams, and let the Lord watch over you.”
The Curse of St. Francis – Leigh Tauss
Down the dark and seldom used path between Bannow and DiMenna-Nyselius library, partially obscured by vagrant leaf piles, lies the haunting stone statue of a hunched old figure draped in a cloak, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the grim reaper.
No one can recall exactly when the statue of St. Francis first appeared on campus, but sources claim that originally it held no stone birds, his crooked long wrinkled fingers ominously gesturing uphill toward Bannow.
Legend has it that during a full moon many years ago, a young freshman traveling home from a late night snack at Barone stopped to gaze upon the statue.
The skeletal trees began to quiver and a frigid wind spun the crumbled leaves in the air. In horror the freshman watched as St. Francis’ hand began to twist, reaching out toward him.
A hoarse voice croaked. “Three birds perch on a branch. One flies away, how many birds remain?”
The freshman had taken precalc, so he said what he assumed the answer ought to be.
“Uhhh, two?”
St. Francis cackled. “A fly is not a bird. But now you are!”
Before the poor young chap had time to cry for help, his trachea contracted and all that escaped was a pathetic whistle before he hardened into a tiny stone bird in St. Francis’ palm.
He was never seen or heard from again.
They say any student unfortunate enough to cross St. Francis’ path on a full moon will be transformed into a stone bird, forever perched at his feet, enslaved to an eternity of watching the world pass them by.
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