We Accidentally Rented a Haunted House

As the spooky season creeps in, it feels like the perfect time to share a story that still gives me chills. Gather around, because this isn’t just any tale — it’s a firsthand experience of how my friends and I accidentally spent a night in what felt like a haunted house. Trust me, by the end of this, you’ll understand why we still get goosebumps just thinking about it.

We still get goosebumps thinking about that night. I’ve been trying to put into words exactly how we felt, but nothing truly captures the fear we experienced.

It was a cold, foggy December night — perfectly eerie and ghostly. We were far outside the city, on a college trip. Six of us. Somehow, we drifted away from the rest of the group and decided to explore on our own. Don’t even ask about the penalty we faced for that decision later.

We spent the day wandering, taking pictures, eating, and just enjoying ourselves. But when we returned, we found out there were no rooms left. The only one available was locked.

Only the night guard — wrapped in a massive coat — was awake. He told us he couldn’t let us go without asking a teacher, and at that moment, we despised him for doing his job. But we weren’t about to face any teachers that night. Desperate, we asked if there was anywhere else we could stay. He hesitated and said, “You’ll be scared,” then mentioned an empty storage room with two beds. That was all we needed to hear — we wanted shelter, no matter how eerie the offer sounded.

But then, he warned us. The room had been locked for a reason. Something had happened there years ago, something… unexplained. Yet, cold and desperate, we insisted. We couldn’t risk getting caught by our teachers.

As the door creaked open, a chill went down our spines. The sound alone was enough to make us second-guess our decision. Dusty cobwebs clung to the corners of the rusty doorframe. We stood there, arguing about who should enter first, none of us wanting to take the plunge.

Staying outside meant freezing to death, but staying inside meant facing whatever lay within. And if we got caught, the humiliation in front of the whole class — especially under our stoic principal — was too much to bear. So, we made the terrifying decision to stay.

Hand in hand, we entered, trembling with fear. In the corner of the room was a white sofa covered in dust, and a grimy window barely let in any light. The room reeked of abandonment. Our imaginations ran wild, picturing the unspeakable things that had once happened here. Every creak, every shadow had us on edge.

I spread a spare scarf on the floor, and we all sat huddled together, heads resting on each other’s shoulders, paralyzed by fear. One of us whispered, “Did you hear that?” — but we knew it was just our minds playing tricks. Our brains were so overwhelmed with fear that any tiny sound became a threat.

Finally, we saw the first hint of dawn through the window. We couldn’t leave fast enough, and when the rest of the group started stirring, we quickly merged back in, unnoticed, as if nothing had happened.

That morning, at breakfast, we were barely able to eat. But when I took my first sip of coffee, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. We’d survived. We weren’t sure how, but we had made it through the night.

A week later, during a physics lecture, the six of us were summoned to the principal’s office. The joy we had felt about getting away with our misadventure quickly vanished.

“So, how was the trip?” he asked.

“It was great!” we all chorused.

“And the nights? Those were good too, right?” he added with a knowing smile.

The color drained from our faces. Sam, one of our friends, turned pale — I had never seen him so scared.

The principal knew. He knew everything.

“I’m glad nothing bad happened to you all,” he said. “But you’re still young, and you don’t realize the dangers you could have faced.” He sighed, looking at each of us. “You’re suspended for a week. I won’t inform your parents, but you should be honest with them.”

As he said that, we inwardly laughed. Tell our parents? Not a chance. But as we left his office, we couldn’t help but feel grateful. He hadn’t made a public spectacle of us, sparing us the humiliation.

To others, it may seem like a fun adventure, but I’ll tell you — if you knew the strict, narcissistic environment of our college, you’d understand why we were terrified. A one-week suspension was a small price to pay for what we’d been through.

And honestly, that week off? Totally worth it. Though I did get a real headache toward the end, maybe from reliving that terrifying night in my mind over and over again.