The Tunnel

I go to this semi-rural college in Western Pennsylvania, and like any school is in this country, it has its fair share of ghost rumors. There's the ghost of Emma that haunts the theater, the unnamed ghost that haunts the older dorms, the hundreds of dead bodies at the bottom of the pond, etc. But those are all so played up (even by the administration) that they're rather hard to believe. However, every once in a while, you'll hear about the ghost that roams a tunnel on our campus. It goes between the aforementioned theater and one of the older buildings that has some dorms in it, but is mostly used for the banquet hall.

Anyway, this ghost rumor is heard rarely, at best. Most students couldn't even tell you that fucking tunnel exists. But a few of my friends and I got wind of the tunnel from one of the people that live in the one building at the end of it. Found it while he was exploring. He got scared of some noise and "got the fuck out of there and didn't go back." A few days after he told us about it, I ran into one of the older maintenance guys that had been around the campus a while, and he confirmed the tunnel's existence. Only adding "I wouldn't go down there. At least not without turning the lights on."

So, one night, my friends and I got a little baked and decided to make a run down the tunnel... with the lights out. Just to make sure no one got hurt, we drew straws, and whoever got the short straw would do the run while the rest of waited. We checked out a camera that had night vision from the tech kids, and borrowed some walkie talkies from my friend's parents who live a half hour from the school. There were five us, so two would wait at either end of the tunnel (entering through the respective building) and the one would do a run with the camera. If anything went wrong we'd use the walkie talkies.

Myself being fat and lazy, I made damn sure I got a long straw, and so my friend Jeff ended up making the run. When we got down to the tunnel, it was pitch fucking black and smelled of cat piss. No idea why. Jeff started on my end, where the light switch was (well not so much a switch, but a giant fucking lever on a fusebox, you know the kind). We tested the walkie talkies and we all went silent. Jeff counted to three under his breath and took off.

We turned our flashlights in the opposite directions of the tunnel so we could see if anyone was coming and to make sure that the night vision on the cam stayed effective. We heard Jeff's footsteps for a good minute before they faded completely. And then we waited for the call that Jeff had made it. We waited what felt like for fucking ever. Then all of a sudden a voice came over the walkie talkie. It was the other "team."

"Hey, did Jeff leave yet? We're fucking bored as piss over here."

I checked my watch, Jeff had left almost an hour ago.

"Dude, Jeff left an hour ago, I thought you were fucking with us."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Hit the switch and as soon as we see the lights, meet us halfway down the tunnel."

It took a minute for the lever to cooperate, whatever this tunnel had been used for obviously hadn't been done in some time, and the lever was quite rusty. Once I got the damn thing to flip it took a moment for the things to buzz all the way on and a few seconds later we heard the walkie talkies again.

"Alright, we got light, start running."

The tunnel couldn't have been more than 400-450 yards long, and the entire way down there wasn't a single ladder, sewer grate, door, or other way out of the tunnel other than heading down to other building.

After a few moments of jogging, I could hear the other team coming up to us. Just as I was about to call out to them, I tripped.

I was a little dizzy from hitting the concrete, but it only took me a few seconds to come back and realize what I had tripped on. It was that fucking camera. What was left of it at least. The lens was missing, and the handle was busted off, the viewfinder was cracked, and the flip-out screen was hanging on by wires.

"Where the fuck is Jeff? Where's his walkie talkie?"

That's all we kept asking each other until I finally stood up, stuffed what was left of the camera in my bag and said "Fuck it, we need to get out of here, we'll call his phone when we get outside and see where he was." (Since the tunnel was on the other side of campus from the newer buildings, we drove and left our phones in the car).

Sixty. Seven. Fucking. Calls.

We called him a total of 67 mother fucking times and couldn't find him. That was a week ago. We had called even more times since then. God knows how many times. His room mate won't stop texting me. God, I'm so scared of where he is. It gets freakier though, the SD card in the camera wasn't in there when I got back to my dorm and checked it. Today, I got an email that I had a package in the mailroom. When I opened it, all that was in there was Jeff's phone, the SD card, and note that said "I wouldn't watch that." His phone stopped counting at 99, and mixed in were calls from his girlfriend back home, his mom, and countless texts. I couldn't go through them. He still has to be out there. I know I shouldn't watch what's on the card, but I need to find out where he is.

I'm so scared right now. I finished watching what was on that fucking card. I'm so fucking scared. As soon as it was over the light in my room went out. It's been flickering for a few days now, so it's probably just coincidence. What is concerning is that at the end of the tape I could have sworn the side of the janitor's face is in the third to last frame. I must've frozen it twenty times and that has to be him. It fucking has to be. Even more is concerning than that is the noise coming from my ceiling. Like someone is stomping up there. When I lived on the third floor that was common. But I'm on the fourth floor now. There's nothing between here and the roof but maybe 3 feet of space with some ventilation systems and cables and whatnot. The stomping won't stop. Make it fucking stop.

Jeff's phone just texted mine a minute ago. I left it in the living room. So I thought it was my room mate, but he went home for the weekend. He won't be back til tomorrow. The door is shut and locks automatically. I went to the living room and the fucking phone is gone. I called it three times. On the third time it picked up. I heard breathing and then it hung up. I texted the other guys but they won't respond. Oh, god what am I going to do?

I tried to go outside for a cigarette to calm myself down but the door won't open. No matter how much force I put on the handle it won't swing. I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind. Jeff's phone is calling mine.

I wish I'd never started telling you guys this story. I wish I'd never gotten the email about the package.

I wish I'd never gotten curious and opened the card on my computer.

And most of all I wish there was more than breathing coming through my phone.

Holy fuck. The counter isn't running. I picked up the phone and it immediately hung up and I didn't notice till now. The breathing is in my ear. I can see his reflection in the screen. He knows this is the last thing I'll ever type so he's letting me finish. Never go down that fucking tunnel. Never disregard an old man's advice.

Goodbye /x/. You served me well.

Orange.Soda