Ghost Dormitory Novels & Stories

There's a white door with a digital keypad in front of us, and it has the tag "Elite Dorm 314." I blink, confused. This isn't our dorm. He had walked right past Dorm 314 as if it didn't even exist. My head spins. What is this place? What the hell is he planning? Rhydar buries a hand in the pocket of his jeans, takes out a keycard and taps it against the scanner. The door swings open, and a gasp slips out of my lips when I see the interior. It looks like a freaking penthouse! What the—

CHAPTER 56 The Dorm That Shouldn’t Fit Six People (But Does) September 6, 2029 – Blackbird-Coyote Dorm, Top Floor, Aerie Academy The door to our dorm opens before any of us touch it. It swings inward on silent hinges and the smell hits me first: pine smoke, desert rain, ozone, burnt cinnamon, and the exact scent of the ridge the night we bound our oath. Home. The room is impossible. One minute it’s a loft the size of a basketball court.

30, hardly anyone was up. I stepped on my mustard flat shoes lazily across the street, glancing back before I walked away from that small three-floored building. The dorm only accepts female students so it’s pretty neat, even though the building is looking rather old with an exposed red brick, old-time style from the last century. I lived there with around 35-40 other students from various colleges and universities, but most of them study in a state university a block away from the dorm. I have lived in this dorm since I left my hometown for college a year ago.

Scar Face growled along, “Yeah! You’re buried up to your neck in dirt and won’t be alive for much longer! You might as well do something useful and clear the way for us!” ... Darkness swallowed everything. The seventh night had fallen. In the dormitory, the residents waited as usual for their granny to check in. They waited and waited, but she never came. The frost wraith tightened her floral coat, and for the first time, a worried look appeared on her gray-blue face. She floated out of Dorm 4101. “Granny? Granny?” The Hungry Dead hugged an empty bowl, his stomach growling loud enough to rattle the walls.

"Kieran, tactical assessment of the compound?" "Three primary buildings, communal living structure in the center. Maya's been assigned to the east dormitory, second floor, third room. Two disciples guard the dormitory entrance at night, but they rotate hourly. We have a seven-minute window during rotation change." Everything was as planned. But plans never survived first contact with reality—I'd learned that from our parents.

I hit the buzzer. The door clicks open. Instantly, a blinding, sickeningly sweet customer-service smile snaps onto my face. "Hi sweetie!" I chirp. "What kind of beauty treatment are we looking for today?" "You're the Grim Reaper?" I blink. The living room of Dorm 205 isn't a beauty salon. It's a trap. Six people are waiting inside. Rich kids dripping in designer clothes and volatile divine energy. All six sets of eyes lock onto me with raw, murderous intent. They aren't looking for a makeover. They're looking for blood.

"Well, before you enter, I will tell you some rules in this dorm." "Please tell me, Chihiro-nee." Monica nodded since this place was a dorm and of course, there were some rules that he needed to follow. "First, you can't be so rowdy and keep your voice down so you won't bother the rest of tenants, although this dorm is affiliated with the school, it is run privately. Not all the people that are living in this place are students." Monica nodded and felt a bit surprised inwardly since somehow the setting was a bit different from the anime that he had watched in the past.

After the orphanage showdown, it’s hard to surprise me with something. I skirted around the aristocrats and with my head held high I headed towards the dormitory. The rest of the journey passed without incident. The hostel building, at first glance, was no less than the main building of the academy, the right wing was occupied by the guys, and the left was reserved for the girls. After finding my wing commander, I received the keys and eagerly went to my room, which was located on the second floor. Inside, the dorm looked as pompous as the main building. What does it feel like to be surrounded by such luxury all your life? Here, like it or not, you start looking down on others. Although no,

Promise not to break anything. The RA had taken one look at our rings, our graying temples, the laugh lines that hadn’t been there ten years ago, and just sighed, “Twenty minutes. Don’t break anything. And don’t scare the freshmen.” We closed the door. Locked it. The dorm room smelled exactly the same stale carpet, faint bleach from last summer’s cleaning, the stubborn undercurrent of teenage boy sweat that never quite leaves cinder-block walls no matter how many air fresheners get sprayed. The current occupants were out probably at the dining hall or the library and the space looked both eerily familiar and completely foreign. New posters on the walls. Different bedding. A mini-fridge hummi

she teased, echoing the words I had said to her earlier. I managed a tired smile. “I see what you did there.” “Come on, let me show you your bed,” she said gently, helping me up. We walked slowly down the corridor, my steps uneven and limping. Anna led me to a door that opened into a large underground room filled with rows of single beds—almost twenty of them. It looked like a dormitory, but there was an eerie silence that reminded me this wasn’t a school; it was a prison. She pointed out the showers, a small tiled room with multiple showerheads lined up. It felt strangely like boarding school, except here the fear was real and ever-present.