I've been writing this since they started work on the new accomodations, and its all true. There are things in the walls.
It is with some trepidation that I set pen to paper regarding my experiences with the other phenomena in the New Accommodations. I have no solid evidence with which to support my claims, which must seem to many to be but phantasms and wild madness, but none the less, my suspicions must be available to give credence to any who come after me.
First, that my assertions might not entirely disregarded, let me first tell you of my background. It was in the year of . .04 that I was accepted into the University of B . . It was here that I read Archaeology and moonlighted with personal studies of the history that lingered around quaint and picturesque old town, whose streets held echoes of long ago times when men were not so sceptical of unknown things.
As I was to be out of the country, digging for antiquities at a site in India, during the period prior to my enrolment, it was to my great pleasure to be offered accommodation in the university lodgings. I fully expected these to be as ancient as the institution itself, and as wrapped in the trappings of slow centuries of learning. I expected to stay in ancient dark-panelled rooms each of which with a distinguished history of housing the best of the region’s youthful thinkers.
Upon arrival, I found the campus, and the halls in particular everything I had dreamed of and more- for these were not only the gracefully ageing constructions of a bygone day, but it was clear that the construction was an on going project rooted deep in the past and stretching ever upwards to some glorious future. My particular housing was, on the outside, a modern brick building, cunningly wrought to look not out of place amongst its Victorian counterparts. A crumbling. 60s edifice lent against it. Working down, and with careful examination, the interior however, showed that the modern section was merely a superstructure with roman foundations, and semi-natural limestone basements older than man.
So enamoured was I that I did not heed any of my early unease, or put the difficulty I had sleeping down to anything but excitement and my habitual nervousness. It was thus, lying abed one night that I first heard the faint far noises that would later grow to consume my every waking thought and spill over into my troubled dreams. It was a faint noise, alone in the darkness, too quiet to fully describe and I stretched my awareness to it, but could not make out anything, and so I tried to ignore it, and spent the night in uneasy slumber.
In my explorations of the campus, I found many things that were unknown to my contemporise; this does not necessarily imply any great scholarship of esoteric matters on my part, only that they were more interested in women, wine, sleeping late, and avoiding tutors. I also met the campus cat, and after some initial wariness on his part, we soon, as the only two creatures to frequent the more obscure corners of the campus, became companions.
Needless to say I supplemented my investigations of the physical building with examination of the written historical record, and thus I found much of the stories of the ancient buildings, the people they had housed, the discoveries made in them, but more importantly, I discovered the terrible secret built into the very fabric of the most modern buildings. Of course, at the time I had no conception that it was anything more than innocent well-meaning whimsy. It is with shaking hand that I write this, indeed, I shall only hint:
When the building was made they mixed with the mortar certain artefacts that were provided by public donation. Messages of goodwill were requested, from all manner of persons in the community, that the town and the place of study should grow closer. Sculpture, stuffed toys and all manner of donations were also accepted.
Of course all of these were hidden from daily sight, ad I doubt a single one of my contemporaries could have guessed that their habitations, held not only natural wall stuff, bricks and mortar, yet nor insulation and the small creatures that live in the corners of man, but Things such as the citizens of B___ felt that students should be surrounded by. It can be of no surprise to those who have seen students in the town that not all of these things were of as kindly intention as were originally envisaged, nor is it to be expected that the donations were thoroughly investigated before mixing them with the cement. I shall not dwell certain ancient legends concerning London Bridge.
When you dispose of nuclear waste you attempt to immobilise it first, embedding the dangerous materials in glass or artificial mineral crystals, and then bury the container such that any leaks will be far from what one treasures. I can only guess at the motivations of the townsman who had decided that embedding in concrete counted as good enough immobilization of the evil thing, considering the placement of any leaks.
I did not sleep well the next night either, for my mind was awhirl with thoughts of the wonders lying concealed in the walls around me. Here, close but inaccessible were intentions made concrete; people’s very thoughts and attitudes forever fossilised in the living structure. Also, I fancied I could hear noises.
I was in this mood when a familiar scratching at the door alerted me to the arrival of my companion in exploration. I opened the door and he trotted in proudly, tail held high. Clutched in that noble beast’s mouth was the struggling form of a malevolent porcelain doll.
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