28/03/2026
Disclaimer, this is just a fake and untruth story, just a story worth learning from.
The Unseen at Nsukka
It was during the harmattan semester at the University of Nigeria Nsukka that things began to change.
The campus had always carried its own strange silence at night — the kind that made even the bravest students walk faster when returning from night classes. But nobody really talked about it… not openly.
Until Adaobi moved into Block C, Room 17.
---
Adaobi was a 200-level student, bold, curious, and the type who didn’t believe in “village people” or ghost stories. When her friends warned her about the room, she laughed.
> “Abeg, na only room be that, no be shrine.”
Rumors said the previous occupant had “run mad” during exams week. Others whispered she used to talk to herself at midnight. But Adaobi didn’t care. Cheap accommodation was hard to find.
The first few nights were normal.
Then came the scratching.
---
At exactly 2:13 AM, Adaobi heard it for the first time.
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
It sounded like something dragging across the wall. At first, she thought it was a rat. She turned on her torch and checked everywhere — nothing.
The next night, it happened again.
But louder.
SCRATCH… SCRATCH… SCRATCH…
This time, it came from behind her wardrobe.
Her roommate, Ifunanya, sat up suddenly.
> “You hear am?”
Adaobi nodded, but tried to stay calm.
They pushed the wardrobe aside.
Nothing.
Just a blank wall.
---
By the fourth night, things escalated.
Adaobi woke up unable to move.
Her eyes were open, but her body felt… frozen.
Then she heard it.
A whisper.
Close to her ear.
> “You’re sleeping in my space…”
Tears rolled down her face as she struggled to scream.
When she finally broke free, she jumped up, shaking violently.
Ifunanya was fast asleep.
Or at least… she looked like it.
---
The next morning, Adaobi noticed something strange.
On the wall behind her bed were marks.
Long, thin, claw-like scratches.
Fresh.
---
Fear started creeping in, but Adaobi refused to leave. Exams were close, and she couldn’t afford distractions.
That night, she decided to stay awake.
By 2:13 AM, the air in the room grew cold — unnaturally cold.
Her phone battery dropped from 56% to 2% within minutes.
Then…
The wardrobe door creaked open by itself.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Inside the wardrobe… something moved.
Not a person.
Not an animal.
Just… a darker shadow within the darkness.
Adaobi couldn’t breathe.
---
Suddenly, Ifunanya sat up.
But something was wrong.
Her voice wasn’t hers.
> “She didn’t listen too.”
Adaobi’s heart nearly stopped.
> “Who… who didn’t listen?” she whispered.
Ifunanya’s head turned slowly — too slowly — until it faced her.
> “The one before you.”
---
That was the breaking point.
Adaobi grabbed her things and ran out barefoot into the corridor, screaming.
Lights flicked on in other rooms. Students rushed out. Security was called.
But when they returned to Room 17…
Everything was normal.
No scratches.
No cold air.
No open wardrobe.
---
The school authorities dismissed it as stress.
Adaobi moved out the next day.
Ifunanya?
She stayed.
---
Two weeks later, during exams…
Students in Block C reported hearing someone laughing softly at night.
Always at 2:13 AM.
And sometimes…
If you pass by Room 17 quietly…
You might hear two voices inside.
One pleading.
One whispering.
---
Nobody stays there for long anymore.
But the room is still there.
Waiting.
