The grueling semester has finally come to an end.

Geoffrey, Hazel, Olive, Sam, and Tiffany had a fun night at ByWard Market celebrating the semester's end before heading home tomorrow. It’s almost midnight. They have just returned to Algonquin College by bus and entered the campus from the Algonquin Centre for Construction Excellence.

“I’ve never been here this late before,” says Tiffany. “Thank God you are all here with me. This whole space feels so chilling and eerie at night.”

“Wait till you get to the bridge,” says Sam. “The light keeps turning on and off whenever it’s dark.”

When they are on the bridge, the light does keep going on and off as if someone’s playing with the switch.

“Anyone wants a campus ghost story?” asks Olive, feeling the vibe.

Tiffany frowns, but the others get electrified by the idea.

“Let me start with the ghost of Christie Mansion at the University of Toronto.” Olive has his storytelling mode on already.

“The Victorian-style mansion was built by successful businessman William Christie in 1881. His son Robert became the mansion’s owner when the father died. Rumour has it he kept his mistress in a secret room in the library, now known as Room 29, when he lived with his family in the same mansion. The lady had everything she needed in the room, so she didn’t need to come out. But soon, Robert got tired of her, and she hanged herself after losing her mind waiting day and night in the small room. People say the room will shut itself at night and lock up anyone inside.”

“Another testament showing humans are scarier than ghosts,” comments Sam, as they pass a deserted corridor with walls of lockers, a spot Tiffany dreads because she always feels something creepy will show up at the far end and chase her.

“Can we hurry back to our dorm, please?” she begs.

“I have a good one for you that happened at a dorm, Tiff.” Hazel grins.

“Before the dorm story, let me share a creepy tale about Siri that took place at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore,” says Geoffrey.

“In Singapore, the Hungry Ghost Festival is in the seventh month of the lunar calendar. People believe ghosts are freed from the underworld to roam the world of the living in search of food and entertainment during the festival. There’s a not-to-do list for people to avoid bad luck or naughty spirits. For example, you don’t swim or whistle.

“So, for students of the university at Hall 10, they don’t sing in groups. Because a few years ago, some students sang together during the festival. One of them felt a hand on his shoulder, but there’s nobody. They continued to sing until a student’s Siri spoke suddenly, ‘I’m here.’”

They have arrived at Residence and are heading to Hazel’s room for the last story. Tiffany is reluctant to join but she doesn’t want to be left alone in the now-empty dorm either.

“So, mine is about one of the dorms at the Chinese University of Hong Kong,” says Hazel, as her friends curl up in her room.

“There was a couple living in the same dorm. The girl was on the upper level, and the boy lived right below her room. It was exam time, so the two decided not to meet each other and concentrated on studying until the exam’s over. The girl wanted to show her care for the boy even when they couldn’t see each other. So, she made oxtail soup every day and lowered a bowl out of the window to the boy.

“The boy enjoyed the wholesome soup for days. Then the exam was finally over. He couldn’t wait but ran to his girlfriend. But when he arrived at her room, he saw people moving her stuff out of the room, and she was nowhere to be found.

“Only then, her friends broke the news to him, telling him she died of a sudden illness some days ago. They kept their mouths shut because they didn’t want to distract him from the exam. The boy broke down in tears. But then he realized something weird—”

“Who’s giving him the soup after she died?” chips in Sam.

Hazel then notices something off with Tiffany.

“You okay, Tiff?” asks Hazel.

“Thank you,” replies Tiffany in another girl’s voice. “For telling my story again. But I didn’t die of illness. I killed myself because of the stressful exam.”

Iris Tsui was born and raised in Hong Kong, an east-meets-west metropolitan rich in urban legends, haunted places, and ghost stories. She is a full-time college student, an occasional writer, and a 24/7 ghost story collector. Her favourite pastime is to have a cup of Earl Grey and listen to scary tales shared on the radio. Currently, she lives in Ottawa and is exploring the dark scary side of Canada. Don’t hesitate if you want to tell her your creepy tales. She will be more than happy to share her paranormal experiences and story collection with you in return.