The university is built over a series of eight hills in a vaguely circular formation. None if the levels match up, all go by several different iterations and the maps are in a semi-permanent state of flux that renders any attempt at using them for their intended purpose frustrating and damn near impossible at the best of times.
There were some rooms that could only be seen three times a week while for others the only proof of their existence was the sole student who remembers taking a lecture there... or was it a sports class - no, it wad definitely some form of group discussion... possibly.
Still, out of all the multi-labelled floors, out of all the classrooms that may or may not be real and/or accessible within this dimension, there is only one place that is only visited by senior cleaning staff. No professor, no student nor guest will even say its designated level ID. They only call it The Drop Off.
Much like the sudden disappearance of coral shallows and infinite oceanic abyss, this hallway ends in a single door that opens into nothingness. The head cleaners say that they've seen the other side, even brought things back from there much to the fear of whichever poor bastard is foolish enough to listen to them.
For an unmentionable price they'll show you exactly what they took from The Drop Off. The last person to take them up on this hasn't been seen since, well most of them hasn't. The upper half of their head appears around campus every now and then, often carried by one of the stray cats that like to wander the labyrinthine halls.
Though there are as many videos of this as there are stars in the sky, not one local officer has cared to make so much as a casual remark about this, though their receptionist was heard saying that it was all a damn shame, bloody youths and their damned curiosity etcetera. She's about as trustworthy as a hungry fox in a chicken coop and as bloodthirsty too, given the chance.
For all its abominations, temporal flux and multitude of horrifying ways to die and remain undead at the same time, the university comes fifth for student satisfaction out of the entire country. It might be genuine for those who wandered about in utter ignorance or stuck harshly to the unspoken rules, it might even be fear that some part of the university will come for them if they speak against it but either way, nobody leaves without a few stories to tell.
There were some rooms that could only be seen three times a week while for others the only proof of their existence was the sole student who remembers taking a lecture there... or was it a sports class - no, it wad definitely some form of group discussion... possibly.
Still, out of all the multi-labelled floors, out of all the classrooms that may or may not be real and/or accessible within this dimension, there is only one place that is only visited by senior cleaning staff. No professor, no student nor guest will even say its designated level ID. They only call it The Drop Off.
Much like the sudden disappearance of coral shallows and infinite oceanic abyss, this hallway ends in a single door that opens into nothingness. The head cleaners say that they've seen the other side, even brought things back from there much to the fear of whichever poor bastard is foolish enough to listen to them.
For an unmentionable price they'll show you exactly what they took from The Drop Off. The last person to take them up on this hasn't been seen since, well most of them hasn't. The upper half of their head appears around campus every now and then, often carried by one of the stray cats that like to wander the labyrinthine halls.
Though there are as many videos of this as there are stars in the sky, not one local officer has cared to make so much as a casual remark about this, though their receptionist was heard saying that it was all a damn shame, bloody youths and their damned curiosity etcetera. She's about as trustworthy as a hungry fox in a chicken coop and as bloodthirsty too, given the chance.
For all its abominations, temporal flux and multitude of horrifying ways to die and remain undead at the same time, the university comes fifth for student satisfaction out of the entire country. It might be genuine for those who wandered about in utter ignorance or stuck harshly to the unspoken rules, it might even be fear that some part of the university will come for them if they speak against it but either way, nobody leaves without a few stories to tell.
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