On Monday night, Maxwell Connington CC ’22 was hospitalized at St. Luke’s after reportedly experiencing a psychotic break on the fifth floor of Hamilton. Connington was reportedly assigned a section of Contemporary Civilizations in one of the known nexuses of eldritch malevolence on campus, and insisted, against the counsel of friends and advisors, on attending class anyway.
“Listen, all the other freshmen have managed to figure out that the numbering systems don’t make sense because of the resident extradimensional horrors in the buildings,” replied Dean James Valentini, when asked for a statement. “Do these people really think we wanted to build these places with 3 as the ground floor? Really, I can’t be held accountable if a student experiences ego-death at the hands of his own ignorance.
Reportedly, Connington made multiple efforts to track down Hamilton 505 after his initial assignment. Predictably, the young student quickly began to experience the standard mystical warnings against searching for the forbidden dimensions: students in the fifth floor of Hamilton report inhuman voices shrieking at Connington’s passing, inexplicable dimming of sunlight at midday, and spouts of maggots springing from water fountains.
In a shocking display of hubris, however, Connington seemingly disregarded all of these warnings: last week, sources tell us, Connington was trapped in a repeating loop in the stairwell between the fourth and fifth floors for six hours.
Afterwards, he merely remarked to his roommate that “no twisted Escherian nightmare would fuck up his 4.0 this semester.”
Predictably, Connington’s hard-headedness culminated in his mind being utterly destroyed by exposure to the Great Old One in the Hamilton basement, whose infinite form defies mortal comprehension.
“I just don’t know what that boy was thinking,” Ricardo Hernandez, professor of the Core, told reporters on Monday. “Everyone knows that if you get assigned Hamilton 505 on SSOL, you take that class another semester, on pain of eternal psychic torment. Now, the dipshit’s gone and pissed off Shub-Niggurath, the Black Goat of the Woods with the Thousand Young. I’m sure it’s fine for him: he doesn’t have to try to teach three sections of Lit Hum in this building for the next year while virgins perish in mortal agony at random intervals. God, freshmen are so inconsiderate.”
