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Thank you. The Silent Directive Episode 3 The
Presence in Smith Hall It is a misconception
that only the uneducated believe in the paranormal.
Those dull, tasteless, oversaturated, and largely
scripted ghost hunting shows bear the blame for
creating such stereotypes. In reality, those
most likely to believe in the paranormal are
those who truly grasp an understanding of the
world. I'm telling you this because of my next
story. I wasn't sure at first how much time had
passed in between, but after Taiwan, I found
myself across the world. Chapman University,
in California. Now, I need to explain to you.
My perception of time is linear. However, sometimes
I can see events of the past. They flash into
my mind as if I were there to see them. But I
cannot see the future. Keep that in mind as we
continue. Now, back to what I was saying. Usually,
paranormal experiences are individual. Usually,
there are no witnesses, which adds to the unease.
If no one is around to see what you saw, how
do you know you're not going insane? But this
instance was not the same. In fact, it had none
of the usual qualities of a ghost encounter.
It was a full classroom during the middle of
a cool, cloudy day. The professor was standing
at the front of the class, lecturing to his 30
-some students preparing for their upcoming midterm.
It was quiet. Only the professor's voice filled
the room. Sometimes, if he paced too far toward
the door, the floor would groan and creak. Everyone
knew it did. It was somewhat of an inside joke
among any student with a class in Smith Hall
211. Step too close to the door and the floor
will creak. So while he was talking, the professor
made sure to stay close to his desk. With only
15 minutes left of the two -hour class, he started
to discuss expectations for next week and the
dreaded midterms. But suddenly he was interrupted.
The distinct, familiar sound of someone walking
toward the door startled him. Some student had
gotten up to go to the bathroom, surely. But
no, all students were seated, taking notes on
what was written on the board. Some were looking
toward the front of the classroom. Clearly they
had heard it too. But, oh well, an unprompted
creak. Unusual, but not strange. Smith Hall was
one of the oldest buildings on campus, after
all. The professor went to continue, but another
creak came. This time, the entire class looked
up. It was loud. Distinct. It was a footstep.
The professor watched the door. There should
have been someone standing in front of it, but
there was no one there. It was eerie. Then came
three more footsteps. It sounded like stomping.
The floor groaned out as this invisible force
stepped across the front of the classroom toward
the professor. He flinched, expecting something
to happen, but nothing did, and the sounds disappeared.
The stunned silence of the classroom only lasted
a few seconds. It quickly derailed into questions
and excitement. For the rest of the class, it
was clear the sounds were in the room. As a collective,
they spent the rest of the class trying to recreate
the noises. After all, they were academics. To
explain something is to know something, right?
But they couldn't. They tried stomping outside
the classroom, next door, in the class below.
After using up the rest of the class, the students
left, still confused. They had been unable to
reproduce the noises. The only way they could
was by stomping across the front of the class,
the exact place that had been empty during the
event. So they left their professor just as confused
as they were. What a strange event. I must say,
from what I saw, the word ghost or paranormal
was only thrown around a few times, as a joke.
The class did not directly come to the immediate
conclusion that there was a ghost in their building
that interrupted their lecture. The primary thought
was concern over the integrity of the building.
The students, along with their professor, worried
about how stable this creaky floor really was.
The thought of something paranormal only came
up later that night. Now this had the markings
of a ghost story. The clouds had dissipated,
the sky was dark and the moon was bright, and
campus was a ghost town. Or, you know what I
mean. Before that day, the professor didn't have
any prior experience with the paranormal, nor
any opinions on it. He wasn't a believer, nor
was he a skeptic. He just had other things to
worry about, such as his students' most recent
essays. That's why he was still in his office
so late. Smith Hall, 07. It was late and he was
alone, but that was usual. He didn't think anything
of it. At least for the first hour. By hour two,
he had finished grading half the essays. They
were in a neat pile on the side of his desk.
He leaned back in his chair to take a small breather.
As he surveyed the room, he heard someone pass
by his door. Or at least he thought he did. The
window on the door was translucent. If there
had been someone out there, there would have
been a shadow or something. In a place so quiet
and empty as Smith Hall, it was easy to get one
of those creeping feelings. See, Smith Hall,
aside from being one of the oldest buildings
on campus, was also one of the farthest. It was
at the very edge of campus, and the professor's
office was in room 07, the basement. There were
only offices down there, and he personally knew
the other three faculty members with offices.
The professor stood up, opened his door, poked
his head out into the hall. It was empty, of
course, and the lights were dim. He considered
calling out, asking if anyone was there. But
for some reason, the thought of making a noise
sent a deep chill down his spine. Before he could
step back into his office, he felt something.
That vague, unreachable feeling that you know
you're not alone. We've all felt it. We've all
tried to describe it before, but it's not easy.
We don't know exactly what that feeling is or
how it works, let alone how to describe it. But
we all know it. The professor felt as though
he'd seen someone step back into the darkness
of the supply closet at the end of the hall.
He hadn't. He knew he hadn't. But as he stared
into the dark room, he knew someone was looking
back. They weren't. But he could feel it. By
now he was spooked. He stepped back into his
office and closed the door. Like that thin pane
of glass could help. His hand rested on the handle.
Should he lock it? No, that was just silly. Besides,
what if it was a student? What if they had some
questions? Locking it was just not necessary.
As he released the handle, he took a step backward.
And as he did, he bumped into someone. Now, this
was his office. He had barely taken a step down
the hall. He had been gone for less than 30 seconds.
So if someone had entered his office, they would
have had to sneak behind him. It didn't make
any sense. Yet he bumped into someone. He yelped
and spun around. No one was there. That should
have made him feel better, but it did not. Maybe
he bumped into his desk. It was too far away,
too low. He felt the sensation in his shoulders,
like backing into someone in a crowded hall.
But this room was empty. The professor pushed
his back against the door, the threat outside
completely forgotten. There was someone in this
room with him. He was not alone. But the room
was quiet and empty. But it wasn't. It was filled
with the silence created by another person, both
trying to stay quiet to not disturb the other.
And then, the professor's eyes moved to his leather
office chair. It had spun around when he stood
up, and it was now facing the back wall. Only
now, it was slowly spinning. His heart raced.
His breathing stopped. There was going to be
something sitting in the chair, and the professor
did not want to see it. But he couldn't move.
His door opened inward, and that would require
him to get closer to it. He watched in horror
as the chair spun around. But it was empty. Immediately,
he was flooded with relief, almost enough to
laugh out loud. How silly, being scared of an
old building and a gust of wind from some vent.
He almost, almost went to sit back down. But
his eyes were still on the chair as he saw the
leather sink down. Something was sitting in his
chair. Now he could feel it. The eyes. Something
was staring at him. He was not alone. He hadn't
been alone this entire time. The professor was
old, but that didn't stop him from running out
of the building. He rushed to his car and drove
all the way home, feeling the eyes on the back
of his neck the entire time. There have been
stories here and there, presences, anxious feelings,
this and that, but the professor from Smith Hall
never went back to Chapman. He retired the very
next day. To this day, he doesn't feel comfortable
alone. Because... He never feels alone anymore.
The second the other person leaves the room,
he feels those unseen eyes return, standing in
some corner. As far as unusual activity on college
campus goes, paranormal encounter is relatively
tame. And like I said before, there's a misconception
about who believes in the paranormal. Sometimes,
the more you know, the scarier the world becomes.
Which... I guess, is what I've devoted myself
to. I don't get scared. I get curious. Clearly,
you're the same. Otherwise, I'm not sure why
you're listening. But either way, I'm happy to
keep telling these stories.