Benson Hall is not like the rest of campus, which is full of generic 60s cinderblock dorms and a big glass library that opened a few years ago. The outside of Benson Hall is made out of dark red brick, the interior walls are dark mahogany wood, and the hallways are wide and filled with pillars and chandeliers. It is engraved with the year “1886.”
There’s a lounge with a large conference table, two dusty brown couches, two large windows, and an ugly red carpet. I’ve been in there before for the communication club. The meetings are usually an hour long, and I’ve never noticed anything strange. The atmosphere is pretty normal… as long as you’re there with other people.
When I entered alone, for the first few minutes I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. I started to doubt that anything would happen, but still I sat there. The shadows danced along the walls, sunlight coming in at weird angles and stretching into strange shapes.
After about 15 minutes, things started to change. I couldn’t be sure at first, maybe it was just my imagination. The patterns on the wood started to shift into faces, and for a split second I swear I could see words written on the wall. At this point there was no danger yet.
I passed the 30 minute threshold, and then I started to see silhouettes hidden in the walls. I thought I could hear whispers among the sound of the air conditioner. Was it my imagination? “Keep going,” I thought to myself. It was still a while before I needed to worry.
By the time I hit an hour the whispers were clearly audible. As time passed I thought I heard a familiar voice calling my name, but I knew that as long as I ignored it there was nothing to be afraid of… yet. By now it was starting to get colder, I should have brought a coat.
The walls began to shift and the room felt like it was growing and shrinking. Bookshelves began to appear in place of the walls. I got up the read the titles, which were very unnerving. I could recall some of them being: She Watches Me, I Can Hear You, or Following The Screams. None of the books have an author, nor can they be opened. The pages were either glued shut, or they were all blank.
Pretty soon it had been 90 minutes. Doors and windows would appear on the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. I could see another room and a hallway, even a fireplace. I recalled the advice I had been given. “Do not leave the room, or try to enter any of the doors. It is a trap. The original door you came through will not disappear before 2 hours.”
As time went on I got tired, desperately trying not to get lost in my thoughts. I needed to keep my eye on my surroundings. The room’s shape began to make less and less sense, it had too many walls, and the floor was slightly tilted. “If your chair begins to slide, stand up and hold onto a pillar. You’re almost done now, it’s almost over.”
Just as advised, I kept my eye on my watch, so I knew when I reached 1 hour and 55 minutes. That was the point of no return. I would have to walk through the original door before the 2 hour mark. “Congratulations, you’ve made it!” I thought to myself. I stepped out into the hallway, glancing back behind me to see that the room had returned to normal. Shakily making my way down the hallway and outside, I was greeted by students talking and laughing. I wondered if it was all a dream.
It wasn’t.
Of course, there are those that aren’t so lucky. I had been warned what would happen if I didn’t keep track of time properly, or if I disregarded The Rules. Sometime after the 2 hour mark, the original door disappears. Staying in the room past this point is dangerous. The room continues to change until it is unrecognizable, turning into a maze of many unfamiliar rooms. “Your body will adapt to the cold and you can take off your coat. If you’re lucky the original door could reappear, but don’t count on it.” The last part was the most unsettling. I could still recall the words. “After two hours you probably can’t leave… but don’t worry, you wouldn’t want to. You’d have become a part of the room.”