I’ve been hesitant to put pen to paper on this story. Confirming a rumor — even talking about it at all — is enough to reignite curiosity on these kinds of things. This is not a call to action.
Investigating the rumors about tunnels beneath the school seemed like the perfect opportunity to get into the Halloween spirit, being a silly story without any real merit. I asked around and saw if any upperclassmen had any “memories” of their time in the tunnels. It all seemed like fiction until someone claimed to be offering a real lead. It was an alum. One who had stories, but more than that: photos from four different spots on campus. I couldn’t pass up the chance to see the supposed tunnels in person, assuming this tip was real.
I decided I’d get some history, partly because it would add to my reporting, but mostly to avoid studying for my midterms. I scoured through countless documents, discovering that the ground where Trinity now sits was once a limestone quarry abandoned by the cement company that once owned it. Old photo albums of the plot showed a single mineshaft that looked just large enough for a person dug into the cliff face. By the time I reached pictures of the abandoned lot, I counted at least eight tunnels. The planning documents for the campus, however, didn’t so much as mention one.
I’m avoiding a play-by-play of where I went in case any of you plan to follow my lead, but to put it simply, the first three locations seemed to be a bust with no real proof that there had ever been a tunnel. The fourth door, however, yielded an entrance. The source was right, though I would come to wish they weren’t. The door in the fourth photo stood uninterred at basement level. The whole way down, I worried I’d find someone or something wandering in the dark. The occasional squeal of pipes and unexpected gusts of wind kept me on edge. It didn’t help my unease to find a trail of unidentifiable, viscous fluid that converged in the center of the hallway, stagnant around the occasional clogged drain. I couldn’t help but gag as my shoe pulled up from the wet ground with a trail of slime dragging along. Pipes first lined the ceiling, but eventually came down the walls, before replacing them entirely. I couldn’t even see what sat beyond the unending rows of old metal until brick abruptly reappeared in the structure. The paths felt unintuitive at best and labyrinthine at worst.
By the time my nerves got the better of me and I had decided to turn back, I realized the way I’d come was not the same as before. I could swear I’d heard the bricks slinking into place with rhythm in tandem to the pumping of the pipes. I touched the wall and felt its pulse. Something wasn’t living down there. “Down there” was something living. The whole place seemed to narrow with an intention of swallowing me up.
I began to panic. The dense pipes seemed wetter, as though salivating from some reinvigorated hunger. Desperate to escape, I banged on the wall and felt a loose brick shift — no, tear from its spot. It made the kind of sound of breaking away in increments, like pulling up a plant by its roots. I kicked into it, a hollow clatter ringing out as the dark, syrupy fluid between rows of bricks became exposed, bleeding from the gaps. The fluid glinted as I held my phone’s dim light up to it, only a little more effective than the fluorescent ones above. I could’ve sworn I saw a half-dissolved chunk of bone sitting at my feet, but didn’t have the heart, nor time, to check.
Had I not at least kept track of the direction I had headed, I probably would’ve only moved deeper. The pipes screamed louder, as though the contents of the whole hall were reaching their boiling point. My shoulders were sore from how many walls I’d thrown my full body weight into before I reached the surface again.
Even after making it back to my room, my mind was still back there in those claustrophobic halls. I couldn’t care less about what lay at the end of them. I could only hope they didn’t reach too far. The walls around me didn’t feel safe anymore. There was a reason this quarry had been abandoned, and I had more of the story than I would ever want to know.
