Thanks for taking my call. This happened back in October of 1998. I was a sophomore at the University of Oregon. My roommate had just broken up with her boyfriend that week, so none of us were in a great mood. Anyway, there were four of us. Me, Sarah, my roommate Jennifer, and this guy Marcus from our sociology class. We'd been talking about doing a Ouija board for weeks. Sarah had one from when she was in high school, one of those old wooden ones with the planchette that her grandmother gave her. She kept it in her dorm room. We figured, you know what I mean, why not try it out? See if anything actually happens. The main library stayed open until midnight back then during midterms. We knew the fourth floor was always empty after nine or so, just rows and rows of old reference books nobody ever touched. Philosophy section, theology,that kind of thing. Perfect spot where we wouldn't get bothered.
We met up around ten thirty. Brought the board, some candles, though we couldn't light them because the smoke detectors were too sensitive. The fluorescent lights were buzzing overhead, that harsh white light libraries always have. We found a spot between two tall bookcases in the back corner. Theology section, I remember because there were all these old books about demonology and medieval religious texts. We sat in a circle on the carpet. The board went in the middle. All four of us put our fingers on the planchette, barely touching it like you're supposed to. Marcus asked if there was anyone there who wanted to communicate with us. Nothing happened at first. We waited maybe five minutes, asking questions, trying different things. Jennifer was getting bored, said we should just go get coffee instead. And that's the thing. Right whenwe were about to pack it up, the planchette moved.
It slid across the board. Slow at first, then faster. Spelling out letters. G-R-E-E-T-I-N-G-S. We all looked at each other. Nobody was pushing it, I swear. You can feel when someone's moving it deliberately. This wasn't that. Sarah asked who we were talking to. The planchette moved again.[ O-L-D-F-R-I-E-N-D. Marcus made a joke about it being someone's ex or something, trying to lighten the mood. But I could tell he was nervous too. His hands were shaking a little. Then I heard it. This sound from somewhere in the stacks behind us. Like whispering. Multiple voices, but quiet. Too quiet to make out words. I remember the temperature dropped. I could see my breath, just for a second. The heating system in that building was always terrible anyway, but this felt different.
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