Tales of ghosts and goblins aren’t only for stormy indiscriminate Romanian cities. At Iowa State, in fact, there are many stories of strange, other-worldly experiences that have been passed down by word of mouth from student to student. Although finding the progenitor of these ghastly tales might be nigh impossible, here are some I have randomly heard, in bits and pieces like a twisted game of telephone, during my illustrious career at Iowa State.

Room 101

It is said there is one room in Friley Hall that will forever remain sealed. Much like in “The Grudge,” when someone kills himself in a fit of anger, his rage remains present long after the body is in the ground. One such student at Iowa State fit that category. He hung himself in his dorm room only to be found by a resident assistant a week later. No one learned why he did it, for no note or explanation was ever found.

Alas, that is not the end of the story. Students from that time on, whoever occupied that room would find unsettling things that happened. Items were moved around, rustling was heard from behind the door and some denizens even woke up with cuts on their shoulders. Every person who entered the room always had the feeling that someone else was there too. Eventually, students started to refuse to live in the room.

To disprove this rumor once and for all – and to get occupants back in the room – the hall director decided to spend the night. Halfway through that very night, the hall director exited that same room, decreeing that it forever remain unoccupied by residents. Again, no explanation was given. The next day, it was sealed shut, and no one has gone in it since.

Ghosts in the Graveyard

Everyone knows of the cemetery on campus where all the famous alumni are buried, including Fredrica Shattuck. When the cemetery was built in 1876, the body of a dead baby was found frozen to death on top of one of the graves. Several days before the discovery, a mother in the area had reported the disappearance of her infant son from his crib. She subsequently hung herself in despair.

The morning after her death was when the baby was found. Go to the far north corner of this cemetery and light a candle on the last grave you come across. If, while you do this, you shed genuine tears, supposedly the spirit of the mother will come to you through the forest next to the cemetery, believing your cries to be that of her fallen son.

Mirror, Mirror

Have you ever wondered why the second floor of Linden Hall has no mirrors in its hallways? It’s because they were all taken down, every last one. People kept reporting seeing a glimpse of someone in them, only to turn around and find themselves alone. One person said it was a tall male. Others said he had black hair, yet some said brown. Only one similarity was in every story – he wore a football uniform.

Upon further research, residents discovered that many years ago an ISU football player who lived on that floor was horrifically killed in a car accident on his way back to campus. The same weekend, his roommate, another football player, was hit by a car and killed.

The reports continued of students who got spooked so all the mirrors were removed – the apparitions, however, were still there walking the halls. Unfortunate students who have walked down the hall with a mirror in their hands have sworn this very fact.

Never carry a mirror down that hallway – ever.

The Footfalls

Between Fisher Theater and Stephens Auditorium is a set of underground tunnels that link the two buildings. In these tunnels, late at night, if you have the misfortune of being there, you will hear the soft treading of footsteps.

They belong to Clifford Y. Stephens, who donated $1 million to its construction and after whom Stephens Auditorium is named. Unlike so many tales, he is actually a friendly ghost. Often seen sitting in one of the top floor balconies during plays – which apparently is a sign of good luck – he is especially fond of performances of “The Nutcracker.”

But I would advise against going up and joining him on the balcony. He is still a ghost, after all.

The Lady in the Wheelchair

After her death, Fredrica Shattuck, former head of the department of public speaking, left her wealth to ISU Theatre. Her affection for theater was because she produced plays for Iowa State for more than 20 years. Her other parting gift was her wheelchair, which now resides in the ISU props barn, to be used when the need arises.

Yet, this was not the last time Fredrica was seen. From the stage of Fisher Theater, many a thespian has reported seeing her image reflected in the light booth. There are numerous reports of her presence in the theater, from glances out the eye at night to wailing heard backstage.

This is not her only trick. In the recent production of “The Secret Garden,” cast members used Fredrica’s wheelchair as a prop. During rehearsal, for no reason, the wheelchair began rolling across stage, much to the horror of all the actors involved. Then it stopped, again by its own force, in the middle of the stage.

The House on Haunted Hill

I’ve saved the best for last. And it is the best, simply because it is the most mysterious.

I will not give directions to this house; you just have to find it yourself. Needless to say, the house from hell exists off campus.

Years ago, at the time of Veishea, two beautiful twin sisters were walking back from school. It was dark out and campus was already teeming with celebration.

They reached a stop sign just before the gravel road that led to their father’s house. They were crossing, when they were obliterated by a speeding red car, killing them instantly.

Their father found the remains, and to appease his rage and honor his daughters, across the road from their house he built the world’s most horrific doll house, constructed out of wood and shaped like Cerberus’ heart.

Leading up to it, every year he adds yet another sign, carved in hate. Last year was “FloWerZ.” Night after night he sits out in his white van, under the single street lamp. A shotgun and some courage are his only companions. And he waits patiently for that red car to return so he can avenge his children.

Tradition dictates that when you find this house you must speed through the stop sign, and on rare occasions, the images of the twin sisters will appear in your windshield.

Then go visit the house, further down the gravel road. Just watch out for the white van if the headlights are on.

And please, when you do this, don’t drive a red car .