Baxter's Otherworldly Odors: A Binghamton University Creepypasta

I need the people to hear about what I have seen. You might not believe me. And I get that. But I need people to know what lives in the Fine Arts building here at Binghamton.

I was walking to class, 5 minutes late as per usual. I’m taking Intro to Feminism on the first floor of the Fine Arts building. Walking at a very normal and not at all too slow pace, I entered the building by Einstein's. Clearly, this is the ground floor.

But it isn’t. I go down a flight of stairs, and as I wander down a hallway, I see I’m still on the ground floor.

I find more stairs. Twice more, I head down and look out a window to see that I am still on the ground floor. What trickery is this? What hellish domain have I entered in my attempts to reach my class?

I continue further down. A fifth flight of stairs. I am now in a dark hallway that smells

faintly of buttered popcorn. There is nothing but a freight elevator to my right, and to my left, a ladder leading into a seemingly infinite void. Next to it, on a corkboard on the wall, is a bloody handprint. I venture further.

The bloody handprints get more frequent. So do cryptic signs saying things like “Do not enter” and “Hard hat area only”. Spooky… I venture forth.

Pushing open the world’s loudest door courtesy of Binghamton University, I enter a blue-tinged room. I’m on a balcony overlooking an even lower down, still ground level floor. Next to me is an elevator. I take it down.

But what I saw, what I saw down there, is the scariest part of what I am about to tell you. As the elevator doors opened, I was overwhelmed with the scent of buttered popcorn. It hit me like a wave, the stench overpowering. I pushed forward and opened another, louder door.

And there, on the floor in front of me, was Baxter the Bearcat. His body lay there,

bleeding from his eyes, the air tinged with the salty smell of buttered popcorn and the metallic scent of blood. Thinking he was dead, I inched closer to his corpse, hoping to figure out what had happened to him.

As I drew closer, I saw his chest rise and fall slowly… barely… he was alive!

I reached out towards his head, hoping to take off the mask and see who was injured beneath, but it wasn’t a mask. It was his face. He breathed something unintelligible towards me, but I could barely make out what he said.

“What is it?” I asked, “What happened?!”

But all he did was extend a shaky paw, pointing. I looked behind him. The wall said

“BOO!” I died.