The Forgotten Corridor

Jared was no stranger to odd jobs, but his new role as night security at The Northwood University felt strangely ominous from the start. The university had a history—a long and dark one. It had been built over a century ago, and whispers among the staff hinted at certain wings and floors that were no longer in use, forgotten and locked away.

There was one corridor in particular, at the far end of the basement level, that everyone seemed to avoid. It was always padlocked, a thick chain barring the way. “The corridor is permanently off-limits,” his supervisor had said with a strange look in his eye. “No matter what you hear, stay away.”

Jared laughed off the warning at first. But on his second night, he began to hear it. A faint, distant knocking coming from behind that locked door, almost like someone was softly rapping their knuckles against the metal. Then the knocking became scratching, as if someone—or something—was trying to claw its way out. The unsettling sound would rise and fall, coming and going as the hours dragged on.

On the fourth night, curiosity finally got the better of him. Armed with only a flashlight, Jared ventured down to the basement. The corridor door loomed in the darkness, silent and foreboding. As he approached, he noticed something chilling—one of the heavy chains was broken, hanging loose, as if snapped from the inside.

He hesitated, but then a low whisper drifted through the crack in the door, soft and pleading. “Help… me…”

Jared’s heart pounded, but he forced himself to push the door open, and it creaked as if in protest. Inside, the corridor stretched long and narrow, its walls lined with decaying wallpaper and faded, peeling murals of what seemed to be the school’s history. The air was thick with an indescribable, stale smell that made his stomach churn.

He walked slowly, his footsteps echoing eerily. Shadows seemed to cling to the walls, darting out of the corner of his eye. The whispering grew louder, closer, but whenever he shone his flashlight ahead, the corridor appeared empty.

At the very end, he came to a locked door. This door was different—old and iron-bound, with strange, twisted carvings across its frame. He leaned close, pressing his ear to the wood, and heard the whisper again. “Please… open the door…”

A shiver ran down his spine, but he felt almost hypnotized, his hand moving toward the latch. As soon as he touched it, the latch gave way with a loud click, and the door swung open on its own.

A figure stood just beyond the threshold, shadowy and frail, a woman in a long, tattered dress. Her face was obscured, but her eyes glowed faintly, reflecting his flashlight with an unnatural sheen.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice like dry leaves. “I have waited so long…”

Jared’s instincts screamed at him to run, but his feet felt glued to the floor. The woman stepped closer, her pale, skeletal hand reaching for him. As she moved, the corridor behind him began to twist and warp, as if it were swallowing itself, collapsing inward.

Desperation overtook him. He stumbled back, trying to escape, but the corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, trapping him. The whispering grew louder, now an endless chorus of voices calling to him from the walls.

Jared sprinted, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but the corridor twisted, bending in on itself. The walls closed in, and he felt cold, grasping hands brushing against him from every angle.

Finally, he reached the door he’d entered through. He slammed it behind him, heart pounding. The silence that followed was thick, oppressive, and when he looked back down the corridor, it was as if nothing had happened. The walls were still, and the chains hung unbroken.

Jared quit the next morning, but even now, he sometimes hears faint whispering in the silence of the night, soft and pleading. And he can’t shake the feeling that the door is still waiting for him to return.

Thank you for walking the haunted hallways with Jared. If this story sent a chill down your spine, don’t forget to like and share it with others who love a good scare.