In what some are calling Drew University’s most chilling initiative yet, McClintock Hall has officially launched Ghost Tours of its loudest dorm rooms. This latest campus event promises to expose students to the eerie, GPA-draining forces lurking within the residence hall’s walls. For years, McClintock’s residents have been plagued by strange noises, missing assignments, and mysterious disturbances—but no one suspected the true culprit: restless spirits, eternally doomed to haunt your study sessions.
“We always knew something wasn’t right in McClintock,” said Resident Director, who moonlights as the tour’s lead paranormal investigator. “Students kept complaining about weird noises and feeling like someone—or something—was sabotaging their academic efforts. At first, we thought it was just the classic freshman experience, but after years of the same reports, we realized… it’s ghosts.” The tour begins with the infamous Room 204, also known as the “GPA Graveyard.” Legend has it that no one has ever completed a paper here without being interrupted by a mysterious burst of dubstep from a speaker that no one can find. Some students have even claimed to hear whispers—“It’s due tomorrow… you’re already too late…”—just as their Wi-Fi connection drops. “It was terrifying,” said a super senior, a former resident of Room 204. “One minute I’m typing, the next I’m in a full-blown existential crisis because my laptop suddenly restarts, and I hear a ghostly voice saying, ‘You should have started this last week.’ It’s like they know.” But that’s just the beginning. As the tour continues to Room 303, the site of countless paranormal pranks, participants are warned to keep their personal belongings close. The room has a history of eating textbooks and erasing saved documents. “One time, I wrote my entire paper,” said senior Tim Kowalski, who lived in 303 last semester. “I hit save, went to sleep, and woke up to find my essay had completely disappeared. All that was left was an empty Word doc and the title: ‘What Happens to Procrastinators.’ It was like the room was mocking me.” The spookiest part? Tim’s printer still printed out a blank page in the middle of the night, just to rub it in.
The pièce de résistance, however, is the cursed Room 102, where the tour reaches peak terror. Here, past residents claim that their once-healthy study habits were systematically destroyed, seemingly by supernatural forces. “The minute you enter 102, it’s over,” said former resident Jake Collins, now a super-senior. “I had plans. I had color-coded notes. I even bought those fancy highlighters. But then, the room took over. My notebooks vanished, and suddenly I was up at 3 a.m. watching videos about conspiracy theories instead of writing my thesis. I never recovered.”
The ghosts of McClintock are believed to be the spirits of former students who flunked out after years of midnight distractions, video game marathons, and cursed Netflix binge sessions. They roam the halls, eternally repeating the mistakes of their past—leaving snacks unattended, forgetting to turn in assignments, and always thinking there’s “plenty of time left” to study. Now, they seek out new victims, determined to ensure no student makes it to finals week with a GPA intact. But what would a Drew ghost tour be without the campus’s most terrifying entity of all: The Hallmate Who Never Uses Headphones. Known for haunting McClintock’s paper-thin walls with a continuous loop of Top 40 hits, their unrelenting playlist is enough to drive even the most focused student to madness. “I once spent an entire week listening to the same Post Malone song on repeat—through the walls,” said one McClintock resident, who wished to remain anonymous. “It got so bad, I started hearing it in my dreams. Now, every time I hear ‘Sunflower,’ I black out.”
As students brave the ghost tour, they’re provided with essential survival tools: noise-canceling headphones, sage sticks (for extra credit), and a flashlight that may or may not flicker out when you need it most. But be warned—no equipment can protect you from the psychological horror of a group karaoke session happening in the lounge at 2 a.m., or the chilling realization that you still haven’t started that 10-page paper. “I went on the tour last week,” said junior Ella Harris. “I thought it would be funny, but now I’m scared to open my laptop. Every time I sit down to do homework, I hear disembodied whispers telling me to check Instagram ‘just for a minute,’ and I don’t remember agreeing to buy five things off Amazon at 4 a.m., but here we are.”
McClintock Hall’s Ghost Tours run every Friday and Saturday night. Tours are free for Drew students, but remember: any GPAs lost during the experience are non-refundable. Proceeds will go toward sage bundles, noise-canceling headphone repair, and therapy sessions for anyone who has ever lived in McClintock. As the tour flier states, “Proceed with caution—your GPA may not survive, but at least your horror stories will.”
