Room 913
Move-In Day
Daniel didn’t believe in ghost stories.
When he first arrived at Akropol dormitory at AGH University, he had heard the whispers about Room 913—that students assigned to it never lasted long. Some transferred out before the semester ended. Others simply disappeared, dropping out without warning. But Daniel wasn’t superstitious.
If there was something wrong with the room, surely the university would have shut it down by now.
The only thing Daniel noticed was a faint smell. It wasn’t strong—just a stale, damp stench, like old towels left too long in a closed space. He figured it was just bad ventilation.
But as the days passed, the smell didn’t go away.
It got worse.
Week 2
Daniel started cleaning obsessively.
At first, it was just a few dark stains on the wall, easy to dismiss as leftover mess from the previous tenant. But no matter how much he scrubbed, they kept returning—thicker, stickier.
And the smell… the smell was getting unbearable.
He bought air fresheners, burned scented candles, even kept the window wide open despite the cold. Nothing worked.
It clung to his clothes. To his skin.
And worse—he started noticing something else.
People were avoiding him.
At first, he thought it was in his head. But soon, he realized that no one sat next to him in lectures. Conversations ended when he entered a room. When he asked his neighbor in the dorm about the smell, they gave him a strange look.
“I don’t smell anything,” they muttered before leaving in a hurry.
Week 4
Then came the sounds.
Some nights, Daniel would wake up to the distant echo of laughter, like a party happening somewhere down the hallway. The music was muffled, the voices blending into distorted chatter.
But every time he stepped outside to check, the hallway was silent.
Empty.
Other nights, he heard dripping water—but the pipes were fine. Or he’d hear soft crying, just outside his door, but when he opened it—nothing.
He didn’t know if it was real anymore.
His mind was playing tricks on him.
Wasn’t it?
Week 6
By mid-semester, Daniel stopped leaving his room.
The filth was everywhere now. Thick stains on the walls, black smudges on the floor, something wet soaking into his sheets even after he changed them.
He cleaned and cleaned, but it always came back.
The psychiatrist at the university clinic listened patiently before offering a reassuring smile.
“Stress,” the doctor said. “Classic case of anxiety. You’ve been studying hard, haven’t you?”
“But… the smell. The stains…”
“You’re imagining them.”
Daniel stared blankly.
“I don’t smell anything,” the doctor continued. “No one else does, either. You’re exhausted, Daniel. Just take these.”
The psychiatrist handed him anti-anxiety medication.
Daniel took them without argument.
But deep down, he knew.
Week 9
The dream was hazy, distant—like, watching himself move rather than truly being there
Daniel heard music again—distant, rhythmic, inviting.
When he opened his door, in fact, the hallway was empty. No people, no movement—just the distant thumping of bass, echoing from nowhere and everywhere at once.
Lights flickered. Shadows moved. He followed the sound, walking further down the corridor, drawn toward the bass-heavy pulse of the party.
He stopped at a door. 913.
His own room.
The second he touched the handle, the music stopped.
Inside, the room was not his room anymore.
The walls were black with mold, the floor covered in filth, bottles and garbage scattered everywhere. A heavy, suffocating stench of decay filled his lungs.
Then—
He woke up.
His mouth was dry, his head pounding as if he had spent the night drinking heavily. But he hadn’t. Not a single drop. There was no alcohol in his room, and he hadn’t gone out the night before. The nausea felt real, the dull ache in his skull undeniable—yet the cause was missing, like a puzzle piece that had been stolen from his memory
Week 11
The vodka wasn’t there before.
Daniel sat in front of the mirror, the bottle resting on his desk. He didn’t remember buying it, didn’t know how it got there. But he didn’t care.
He poured a drink, watching himself.
“I’m just tired,” he muttered. “This is just a mental crisis. Exams are stressful.”
His reflection smiled.
Daniel hadn’t smiled.
The reflection picked up its glass… and spoke.
„You are no good. Just another pile of trash. Just like your father said.”
Daniel’s breath caught in his throat.
He threw the glass at the mirror.
Shattered.
He jolted awake, gasping, his face stinging sharply. When he ran his fingers over his cheek, they came back warm and wet—blood. The scratch ran from his temple down to his jaw, thin but deep, as if carved by a jagged shard of glass. His mirror was still intact. But in the dim light, he swore he could see faint cracks running across his reflection’s face
End of Semester
Daniel stared at his reflection, blank and empty.
Filth clung to him now—under his nails, in his hair, stuck to his skin.
His room was a rotting grave, the smell thicker than the air itself.
He stood up, staggering to the window, gasping for fresh air.
That’s when he saw it.
His reflection hadn’t moved.
It was frozen, staring back at him.
Then, slowly—its eyes shifted.
Looking directly at him.
Daniel’s heart pounded. His breath came in short, ragged gasps.
Then, the reflection smiled.
“What’s wrong, Daniel?” it whispered. “Nowhere left to go?”
The room shook.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls.
The filth spread, bubbling like something alive.
The stench thickened, unbearable now, choking him, pressing into his skin.
Daniel stepped backward.
Further.
Further.
Until—
His back hit the windowsill, and he gasped at the sudden chill. His hands gripped the frame, but his fingers were slick with sweat. The hideous stench was suffocating now, thick as rot, pressing into his lungs, filling him. The laughter from the mirror rang in his ears, warping into something unnatural, something hungry.
Daniel staggered back, desperate to escape the madness creeping toward him. He was just crawling—away, away, away. His heartbeat pounded in his skull as his reflection lurched forward, its mouth splitting wide, spilling out choking laughter.
The walls cracked. The floor groaned. The air turned to filth.
He retreated until his heel found nothing but air. His balance wavered. His body tensed.
There was nowhere left to go.
His last sensation was the fresh breeze against his skin, as he was falling.
Morning News – A New Semester Awaits
„Student Found Dead After Fall from Dormitory Window”
A tragic incident occurred early this morning at AGH University’s Akropol dormitory, where a first-year student, identified as Daniel K, was found dead after falling from a ninth-story window.
Police suspect suicide, though the circumstances remain unclear.
Next semester begins soon.