Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25536002-20141014232848

Just wanted to get some criticism on this before I continue writing it. Don't be too harsh as it's my first attempt at a creepypasta but like I said: I want criticism. Hey,This blog is NOT creepypasta of any kind; I’m not going to tell you some story about any murderous psychopath or absurd monster, no… I’m just here to get the truth out. You see, I’m a student at the California Institute of the Arts, and well, as far as my name is concerned, you can just call me Jack for now as I’m not really comfortable giving any personal info. Anyway, like I said I go to an art school, and one of my classes is in a strange room… It’s room A113… Now there’s nothing special in the classroom, or the school to be honest, but that number just seemed so familiar to me… About a few months ago this really started to bother me. Where did I know that number from? Why did it seem so significant to me? I eventually couldn’t bear the curiosity anymore, and I decided to do some research. You know, to see if that number came up somewhere that I would have seen it other than at school. Well, I did a quick Google search and found out that a lot of famous animators had taken classes in that room and a lot of them added it to cartoons and movies as kind of a joke. “Okay,” I thought and for a while I just ignored it, but something was bothering me… That answer didn’t seem to satisfy me for some reason. I wondered about it once in a while but I never thought much of it until recently. A few days ago in class, the teacher didn’t show up… we found this odd as he was usually quite punctual even when he was sick. After about a half hour people started to leave… I didn’t really have anything to do, and seeing as it was my last class for the day I decided to stay. “Well, if the teacher does show up maybe he could just help me with some animations I’ve been working on,” I thought to myself as I let my mind start to wander. Seconds became minutes, and soon it had been an hour. At this point I had gotten pretty bored and started wandering around. I gave my teacher’s desk a glance from across the room and noticed something slightly glimmering. I walked over and examined the desk, and noticed an odd looking key…  “That’s strange… I wonder what it is,” I unknowingly said aloud, and after looking up at the door, then looking around the room to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I picked it up. I noticed immediately, that something had been punched out of the end of it and lifted it into the light to get a closer look…. It was that number… “A113… Maybe it’s a key to something in the room,” I thought to myself as I slowly put it in my pocket. I began to look around and I didn’t notice anything that had a lock on it. Before I could continue looking my teacher came in. “Oh,” he said. “I expected everyone ot have left by know… Why are you still here?” I became very nervous… I had no clue what to do or say, but before he could ask again I said, “Uh, I was wondering if you could help me with an animation I’m working on.” He walked to his desk, and though it was only for a fraction of a second he seemed to hesitate, but he looked through some papers and then turned on his computer. “Sure, that sounds fine.” He said nonchalantly. “Well, are you going to just stand around or bring your laptop over here and show me that animation?” I proceeded to boot up my laptop and open up my animation software. I pulled up the short I was working on and showed it to him. It was about a guy who lost something while moving out of his mom’s basement or something like that, I don’t exactly remember what, but my teacher said something that made my heart skip a beat. He looked up at me with a grin and he had this… look… he said, “Maybe your character should check a storage room, or a closet or something.” It seemed like there was a slightly different tone in his voice when he said storage room, or maybe I was just being paranoid? I don’t know for sure, but I’ll find out as soon as I can, anyway after helping me with my animation I thanked the teacher and left the room. That brings me to the present. It’s currently only about 6:30 but I’m exhausted, so I think I’ll call it a night. I’ll post again as soon as I have any information. This is uh… Jack… signing off. Hi, its jack again… a whole lot went on last night. I awoke to the sound of thunder at about 1:30 in the morning. I opened my computer and started working on a project that was due in a few weeks, but I had trouble focusing. My mind kept wandering back to the classroom, to the desk, to where I had found the key, and finally back to my pillow, under which the key rested. I reached under and ran my thumb over the engraving…        “A113,” I whispered to myself. I stood up, and threw on a jacket. Without any real knowledge of what I was doing I grabbed a backpack, left my dormitory, pulled up my hood, and stepped out into the rain. I couldn’t bear to wait any longer. I ran, and before I knew it I was standing in the library, in an elevator, headed to the basement. I knew there was a storage room down there, but I don’t know how I was sure that I was in the right place… There had to be at least fifty storage rooms in this school, and for some reason I chose this one. Thinking back it made sense, because the library is where things like animation reels and sketches and such are stored. However, I’m getting ahead of myself; let me start from the beginning. As the elevator hit the bottom floor, I rushed out. I looked around and noticed a door that simply said “STORAGE.” I tired the door, and with a little elbow grease, it opened slowly. I walked in and searched for a light switch, and in a few minutes I found one. I flipped it on, and the lights slowly heated up and turned on row by row. The room seemed to be covered in dust. This room probably hadn’t been opened in years, and before I could continue to look about I decided to close the door behind me, in case anyone decided to come down the hallway. After doing so I wandered the rows of bookshelves, which were filled with film canisters. It seemed I was in some kind of… film library… In the center of the room I found a card catalogue. “Well,” I said. “This is probably the best place to start.”  I pulled open a drawer that had “A-B” scrawled on a little card in cursive. I filed through the first few cards, and my heart skipped a beat as I found a card that read: “000.187 A113” Underneath this there was some censored text, but the location of… whatever A113 was…. Wasn’t scratched out. The information of the card led me to another closet off the side of this… secret library… My heart raced as I grasped the doorknob and turned it, I reached in and felt the wall. There was no switch, so I reached forward and grabbed around in the air before my hand clasped around an old, frayed string. I pulled gently, and the light came on filling the room with a dim golden light. The room contained a few drawing tables right next to each other along one wall. Papers littered the floor, but I paid them no attention. My eyes fell on a dusty metal toolbox, with a film canister propped up against the side. I picked up a blank sheet of the yellowed paper and wiped off the filth, and painted on the box was, you guessed it, A113. I grabbed the box and canister and put them both in my bag. I then examined the desks, there wasn’t much but I grabbed a few pages that interested me. I looked through one of the piles of papers; some of them had a few dark brown stains on them. “Is that coffee?” I silently asked myself. The room had really been making me nervous up to this point and now it was getting worse. Sweating I stuffed as many of the papers and various small reels in the room into my bag. Then, as quickly as I could without making much noise, ran out of the room lighting off of the light, closing the door, and leaving the film library without returning the card to the catalogue. If anyone ever returned to this room, I didn’t want them going into that small room. I felt as if that small drawing room was mine in a sense. It was my secret and I was going to keep it that way. To make a long story short, I left the library and got back without much trouble. I was questioned by a custodian who spotted me, but I made up some excuse about being up late to study, and falling asleep in the library. It is now 6:30 AM, and I have classes soon, so I guess I should stop for now. I’ll post again once I’ve opened the box. See you next time.- Jack Okay, a lot has happened since my previous post. This very well may be the last post I make but… I’m not sure. Right now I’m in the drawing room, as I feel this is the only place I’m safe from being watched. The contents of the box have changed me… I don’t feel comfortable disclosing what was on the film reel or what was in the box because I feel that I should figure things out but believe me… this is big… I’ve been coming back to this little drawing room a lot recently, and I’ve come to see it as a second home. Though I won’t say what’s in the box just yet, I want you people to know that this is dangerous… Those “coffee” stains on some of the papers I found were… blood… After realizing this I hadn’t gone back to the room or looked in the box for a long time. Eventually though I was drawn back to that small room with its two desks side by side. I began making my own drawings with the blank yellowed sheets, hanging them on every available surface in the room. You remember how I mentioned I felt the room was mine in a sense? Well, at this point I felt it was mine entirely… There were times where (quite literally I might add) my drawings contained my blood, sweat, and tears… Don’t ask about the blood part, just… don’t. I ate and slept less with each passing day, and eventually, due to my paranoia and new-found insomnia, I moved a small cot into the room and purchased a mini-fridge and microwave. I spent many nights in this room after that. I figure that for you to understand I need to tell you what’s in the box… I’m so nervous… but I must get the truth out…  Let me start from the beginning, since my last post I discovered A113 was a secret project. I can’t give names of the three who started it, but what I can say is that it really scared me at first. A113, was the “final solution” if you understand what that means. If you don’t well, I’ll explain. Walt Disney, the founder of the school was allegedly anti-Semitic, and while he wasn’t responsible for this, a few others were. They admired Mr. Disney and often referred to him as Brother Walter in their journals, which were two of the group of things that were in the box. They aspired to be artists for a long time, and after graduating from high school in 1959, applied to several art schools. They never got accepted to any that they actually wanted to attend so they both found jobs and came together to make a small comic strip for a newspaper on the side. They scraped by until the year 1961. Walt Disney, the man they admired, the man they wished they could be, or at least be on the same level on, had opened an art institute, the very same one which I currently attend. They decided it wouldn’t hurt to apply and soon, they were accepted. They don’t mention any classes in the journals…. Except for one… They often described their class in room A113. According to the journals they grew close to their teacher, which probably wasn’t “appropriate” or whatever, but they often spent time together both in and out of the classroom. There were no strange happenings between the three really, but the things they talked about seemed… odd to me at first. Both journals contain pages upon pages of writing about how Jewish people are a “filthy and disgusting race” and other various hateful writings. According to the journals both the two students and their teacher were anti-Semitic, and often spoke about Hitler and the “return of the Third Reich”. At first I was disgusted, and just closed the box and avoided it for a long period of time. The contents of the box haunted me… I was too afraid to even think about it, and I often tried desperately to take my mind off it, though what I saw though had been burned into my memory. Whenever I closed my eyes I would see cities in flames, starved and beaten hoards of people herded behind electric fences, people being burned, gassed, hung, and other horrific sights. Even when I slept I wasn’t safe, and soon I began to grow interested in WWII history my curiosity always leading back to the box. After 2 weeks, I cracked; I took the box and film back to the secret library, and began searching for a projector. After finding one I watched the film I found with the box. It was a pro-Nazi propaganda cartoon, and it opened my eyes so to speak. The details of which aren’t necessarily important; however the message was clear to me. After watching the film I continued searching through the box. There were more film canisters which I watched, each more detailed and each targeted towards an older age group than the last. By the last canister, I had pretty much everything memorized, but the last canister showed me everything. I had seen the horrific sights that filled my nightmares unfolding before me in black and white on the wall of the drawing room. At first I was disgusted, in fact I even puked, but soon my grimace became a twisted grin. I felt something inside my chest swelling with energy, and it all finally clicked. I knew what had to be done. I continued looking through the box and found books, papers, diagrams, and much more. I read them all, day and night, and sometimes I even read them in public. The books weren’t labeled or anything and most of them were in German (which thanks to high school and family in Germany I spoke with relative ease) and seeing as no one would care enough to read them over my shoulder or anything, I felt totally comfortable with it. I’m still reading, finding out the secrets of the box. I won’t say what, but something big was and is still going on… So long for now…-Jack Hey, This blog is NOT creepypasta of any kind; I’m not going to tell you some story about any murderous psychopath or absurd monster, no… I’m just here to get the truth out. You see, I’m a student at the California Institute of the Arts, and well, as far as my name is concerned, you can just call me Jack for now as I’m not really comfortable giving any personal info. Anyway, like I said I go to an art school, and one of my classes is in a strange room… It’s room A113… Now there’s nothing special in the classroom, or the school to be honest, but that number just seemed so familiar to me… About a few months ago this really started to bother me. Where did I know that number from? Why did it seem so significant to me? I eventually couldn’t bear the curiosity anymore, and I decided to do some research. You know, to see if that number came up somewhere that I would have seen it other than at school. Well, I did a quick Google search and found out that a lot of famous animators had taken classes in that room and a lot of them added it to cartoons and movies as kind of a joke. “Okay,” I thought and for a while I just ignored it, but something was bothering me… That answer didn’t seem to satisfy me for some reason. I wondered about it once in a while but I never thought much of it until recently. A few days ago in class, the teacher didn’t show up… we found this odd as he was usually quite punctual even when he was sick. After about a half hour people started to leave… I didn’t really have anything to do, and seeing as it was my last class for the day I decided to stay. “Well, if the teacher does show up maybe he could just help me with some animations I’ve been working on,” I thought to myself as I let my mind start to wander. Seconds became minutes, and soon it had been an hour. At this point I had gotten pretty bored and started wandering around. I gave my teacher’s desk a glance from across the room and noticed something slightly glimmering. I walked over and examined the desk, and noticed an odd looking key… “That’s strange… I wonder what it is,” I unknowingly said aloud, and after looking up at the door, then looking around the room to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I picked it up. I noticed immediately, that something had been punched out of the end of it and lifted it into the light to get a closer look…. It was that number… “A113… Maybe it’s a key to something in the room,” I thought to myself as I slowly put it in my pocket. I began to look around and I didn’t notice anything that had a lock on it. Before I could continue looking my teacher came in. “Oh,” he said. “I expected everyone ot have left by know… Why are you still here?” I became very nervous… I had no clue what to do or say, but before he could ask again I said, “Uh, I was wondering if you could help me with an animation I’m working on.” He walked to his desk, and though it was only for a fraction of a second he seemed to hesitate, but he looked through some papers and then turned on his computer. “Sure, that sounds fine.” He said nonchalantly. “Well, are you going to just stand around or bring your laptop over here and show me that animation?” I proceeded to boot up my laptop and open up my animation software. I pulled up the short I was working on and showed it to him. It was about a guy who lost something while moving out of his mom’s basement or something like that, I don’t exactly remember what, but my teacher said something that made my heart skip a beat. He looked up at me with a grin and he had this… look… he said, “Maybe your character should check a storage room, or a closet or something.” It seemed like there was a slightly different tone in his voice when he said storage room, or maybe I was just being paranoid? I don’t know for sure, but I’ll find out as soon as I can, anyway after helping me with my animation I thanked the teacher and left the room. That brings me to the present. It’s currently only about 6:30 but I’m exhausted, so I think I’ll call it a night. I’ll post again as soon as I have any information. This is uh… Jack… signing off. Hi, its jack again… a whole lot went on last night. I awoke to the sound of thunder at about 1:30 in the morning. I opened my computer and started working on a project that was due in a few weeks, but I had trouble focusing. My mind kept wandering back to the classroom, to the desk, to where I had found the key, and finally back to my pillow, under which the key rested. I reached under and ran my thumb over the engraving… “A113,” I whispered to myself. I stood up, and threw on a jacket. Without any real knowledge of what I was doing I grabbed a backpack, left my dormitory, pulled up my hood, and stepped out into the rain. I couldn’t bear to wait any longer. I ran, and before I knew it I was standing in the library, in an elevator, headed to the basement. I knew there was a storage room down there, but I don’t know how I was sure that I was in the right place… There had to be at least fifty storage rooms in this school, and for some reason I chose this one. Thinking back it made sense, because the library is where things like animation reels and sketches and such are stored. However, I’m getting ahead of myself; let me start from the beginning. As the elevator hit the bottom floor, I rushed out. I looked around and noticed a door that simply said “STORAGE.” I tired the door, and with a little elbow grease, it opened slowly. I walked in and searched for a light switch, and in a few minutes I found one. I flipped it on, and the lights slowly heated up and turned on row by row. The room seemed to be covered in dust. This room probably hadn’t been opened in years, and before I could continue to look about I decided to close the door behind me, in case anyone decided to come down the hallway. After doing so I wandered the rows of bookshelves, which were filled with film canisters. It seemed I was in some kind of… film library… In the center of the room I found a card catalogue. “Well,” I said. “This is probably the best place to start.” I pulled open a drawer that had “A-B” scrawled on a little card in cursive. I filed through the first few cards, and my heart skipped a beat as I found a card that read: “000.187 A113” Underneath this there was some censored text, but the location of… whatever A113 was…. Wasn’t scratched out. The information of the card led me to another closet off the side of this… secret library… My heart raced as I grasped the doorknob and turned it, I reached in and felt the wall. There was no switch, so I reached forward and grabbed around in the air before my hand clasped around an old, frayed string. I pulled gently, and the light came on filling the room with a dim golden light. The room contained a few drawing tables right next to each other along one wall. Papers littered the floor, but I paid them no attention. My eyes fell on a dusty metal toolbox, with a film canister propped up against the side. I picked up a blank sheet of the yellowed paper and wiped off the filth, and painted on the box was, you guessed it, A113. I grabbed the box and canister and put them both in my bag. I then examined the desks, there wasn’t much but I grabbed a few pages that interested me. I looked through one of the piles of papers; some of them had a few dark brown stains on them. “Is that coffee?” I silently asked myself. The room had really been making me nervous up to this point and now it was getting worse. Sweating I stuffed as many of the papers and various small reels in the room into my bag. Then, as quickly as I could without making much noise, ran out of the room lighting off of the light, closing the door, and leaving the film library without returning the card to the catalogue. If anyone ever returned to this room, I didn’t want them going into that small room. I felt as if that small drawing room was mine in a sense. It was my secret and I was going to keep it that way. To make a long story short, I left the library and got back without much trouble. I was questioned by a custodian who spotted me, but I made up some excuse about being up late to study, and falling asleep in the library. It is now 6:30 AM, and I have classes soon, so I guess I should stop for now. I’ll post again once I’ve opened the box. See you next time. - Jack Okay, a lot has happened since my previous post. This very well may be the last post I make but… I’m not sure. Right now I’m in the drawing room, as I feel this is the only place I’m safe from being watched. The contents of the box have changed me… I don’t feel comfortable disclosing what was on the film reel or what was in the box because I feel that I should figure things out but believe me… this is big… I’ve been coming back to this little drawing room a lot recently, and I’ve come to see it as a second home. Though I won’t say what’s in the box just yet, I want you people to know that this is dangerous… Those “coffee” stains on some of the papers I found were… blood… After realizing this I hadn’t gone back to the room or looked in the box for a long time. Eventually though I was drawn back to that small room with its two desks side by side. I began making my own drawings with the blank yellowed sheets, hanging them on every available surface in the room. You remember how I mentioned I felt the room was mine in a sense? Well, at this point I felt it was mine entirely… There were times where (quite literally I might add) my drawings contained my blood, sweat, and tears… Don’t ask about the blood part, just… don’t. I ate and slept less with each passing day, and eventually, due to my paranoia and new-found insomnia, I moved a small cot into the room and purchased a mini-fridge and microwave. I spent many nights in this room after that. I figure that for you to understand I need to tell you what’s in the box… I’m so nervous… but I must get the truth out… Let me start from the beginning, since my last post I discovered A113 was a secret project. I can’t give names of the three who started it, but what I can say is that it really scared me at first. A113, was the “final solution” if you understand what that means. If you don’t well, I’ll explain. Walt Disney, the founder of the school was allegedly anti-Semitic, and while he wasn’t responsible for this, a few others were. They admired Mr. Disney and often referred to him as Brother Walter in their journals, which were two of the group of things that were in the box. They aspired to be artists for a long time, and after graduating from high school in 1959, applied to several art schools. They never got accepted to any that they actually wanted to attend so they both found jobs and came together to make a small comic strip for a newspaper on the side. They scraped by until the year 1961. Walt Disney, the man they admired, the man they wished they could be, or at least be on the same level on, had opened an art institute, the very same one which I currently attend. They decided it wouldn’t hurt to apply and soon, they were accepted. They don’t mention any classes in the journals…. Except for one… They often described their class in room A113. According to the journals they grew close to their teacher, which probably wasn’t “appropriate” or whatever, but they often spent time together both in and out of the classroom. There were no strange happenings between the three really, but the things they talked about seemed… odd to me at first. Both journals contain pages upon pages of writing about how Jewish people are a “filthy and disgusting race” and other various hateful writings. According to the journals both the two students and their teacher were anti-Semitic, and often spoke about Hitler and the “return of the Third Reich”. At first I was disgusted, and just closed the box and avoided it for a long period of time. The contents of the box haunted me… I was too afraid to even think about it, and I often tried desperately to take my mind off it, though what I saw though had been burned into my memory. Whenever I closed my eyes I would see cities in flames, starved and beaten hoards of people herded behind electric fences, people being burned, gassed, hung, and other horrific sights. Even when I slept I wasn’t safe, and soon I began to grow interested in WWII history my curiosity always leading back to the box. After 2 weeks, I cracked; I took the box and film back to the secret library, and began searching for a projector. After finding one I watched the film I found with the box. It was a pro-Nazi propaganda cartoon, and it opened my eyes so to speak. The details of which aren’t necessarily important; however the message was clear to me. After watching the film I continued searching through the box. There were more film canisters which I watched, each more detailed and each targeted towards an older age group than the last. By the last canister, I had pretty much everything memorized, but the last canister showed me everything. I had seen the horrific sights that filled my nightmares unfolding before me in black and white on the wall of the drawing room. At first I was disgusted, in fact I even puked, but soon my grimace became a twisted grin. I felt something inside my chest swelling with energy, and it all finally clicked. I knew what had to be done. I continued looking through the box and found books, papers, diagrams, and much more. I read them all, day and night, and sometimes I even read them in public. The books weren’t labeled or anything and most of them were in German (which thanks to high school and family in Germany I spoke with relative ease) and seeing as no one would care enough to read them over my shoulder or anything, I felt totally comfortable with it. I’m still reading, finding out the secrets of the box. I won’t say what, but something big was and is still going on… So long for now… -Jack Hey, This blog is NOT creepypasta of any kind; I’m not going to tell you some story about any murderous psychopath or absurd monster, no… I’m just here to get the truth out. You see, I’m a student at the California Institute of the Arts, and well, as far as my name is concerned, you can just call me Jack for now as I’m not really comfortable giving any personal info. Anyway, like I said I go to an art school, and one of my classes is in a strange room… It’s room A113… Now there’s nothing special in the classroom, or the school to be honest, but that number just seemed so familiar to me… About a few months ago this really started to bother me. Where did I know that number from? Why did it seem so significant to me? I eventually couldn’t bear the curiosity anymore, and I decided to do some research. You know, to see if that number came up somewhere that I would have seen it other than at school. Well, I did a quick Google search and found out that a lot of famous animators had taken classes in that room and a lot of them added it to cartoons and movies as kind of a joke. “Okay,” I thought and for a while I just ignored it, but something was bothering me… That answer didn’t seem to satisfy me for some reason. I wondered about it once in a while but I never thought much of it until recently. A few days ago in class, the teacher didn’t show up… we found this odd as he was usually quite punctual even when he was sick. After about a half hour people started to leave… I didn’t really have anything to do, and seeing as it was my last class for the day I decided to stay. “Well, if the teacher does show up maybe he could just help me with some animations I’ve been working on,” I thought to myself as I let my mind start to wander. Seconds became minutes, and soon it had been an hour. At this point I had gotten pretty bored and started wandering around. I gave my teacher’s desk a glance from across the room and noticed something slightly glimmering. I walked over and examined the desk, and noticed an odd looking key… “That’s strange… I wonder what it is,” I unknowingly said aloud, and after looking up at the door, then looking around the room to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I picked it up. I noticed immediately, that something had been punched out of the end of it and lifted it into the light to get a closer look…. It was that number… “A113… Maybe it’s a key to something in the room,” I thought to myself as I slowly put it in my pocket. I began to look around and I didn’t notice anything that had a lock on it. Before I could continue looking my teacher came in. “Oh,” he said. “I expected everyone ot have left by know… Why are you still here?” I became very nervous… I had no clue what to do or say, but before he could ask again I said, “Uh, I was wondering if you could help me with an animation I’m working on.” He walked to his desk, and though it was only for a fraction of a second he seemed to hesitate, but he looked through some papers and then turned on his computer. “Sure, that sounds fine.” He said nonchalantly. “Well, are you going to just stand around or bring your laptop over here and show me that animation?” I proceeded to boot up my laptop and open up my animation software. I pulled up the short I was working on and showed it to him. It was about a guy who lost something while moving out of his mom’s basement or something like that, I don’t exactly remember what, but my teacher said something that made my heart skip a beat. He looked up at me with a grin and he had this… look… he said, “Maybe your character should check a storage room, or a closet or something.” It seemed like there was a slightly different tone in his voice when he said storage room, or maybe I was just being paranoid? I don’t know for sure, but I’ll find out as soon as I can, anyway after helping me with my animation I thanked the teacher and left the room. That brings me to the present. It’s currently only about 6:30 but I’m exhausted, so I think I’ll call it a night. I’ll post again as soon as I have any information. This is uh… Jack… signing off. Hi, its jack again… a whole lot went on last night. I awoke to the sound of thunder at about 1:30 in the morning. I opened my computer and started working on a project that was due in a few weeks, but I had trouble focusing. My mind kept wandering back to the classroom, to the desk, to where I had found the key, and finally back to my pillow, under which the key rested. I reached under and ran my thumb over the engraving… “A113,” I whispered to myself. I stood up, and threw on a jacket. Without any real knowledge of what I was doing I grabbed a backpack, left my dormitory, pulled up my hood, and stepped out into the rain. I couldn’t bear to wait any longer. I ran, and before I knew it I was standing in the library, in an elevator, headed to the basement. I knew there was a storage room down there, but I don’t know how I was sure that I was in the right place… There had to be at least fifty storage rooms in this school, and for some reason I chose this one. Thinking back it made sense, because the library is where things like animation reels and sketches and such are stored. However, I’m getting ahead of myself; let me start from the beginning. As the elevator hit the bottom floor, I rushed out. I looked around and noticed a door that simply said “STORAGE.” I tired the door, and with a little elbow grease, it opened slowly. I walked in and searched for a light switch, and in a few minutes I found one. I flipped it on, and the lights slowly heated up and turned on row by row. The room seemed to be covered in dust. This room probably hadn’t been opened in years, and before I could continue to look about I decided to close the door behind me, in case anyone decided to come down the hallway. After doing so I wandered the rows of bookshelves, which were filled with film canisters. It seemed I was in some kind of… film library… In the center of the room I found a card catalogue. “Well,” I said. “This is probably the best place to start.” I pulled open a drawer that had “A-B” scrawled on a little card in cursive. I filed through the first few cards, and my heart skipped a beat as I found a card that read: “000.187 A113” Underneath this there was some censored text, but the location of… whatever A113 was…. Wasn’t scratched out. The information of the card led me to another closet off the side of this… secret library… My heart raced as I grasped the doorknob and turned it, I reached in and felt the wall. There was no switch, so I reached forward and grabbed around in the air before my hand clasped around an old, frayed string. I pulled gently, and the light came on filling the room with a dim golden light. The room contained a few drawing tables right next to each other along one wall. Papers littered the floor, but I paid them no attention. My eyes fell on a dusty metal toolbox, with a film canister propped up against the side. I picked up a blank sheet of the yellowed paper and wiped off the filth, and painted on the box was, you guessed it, A113. I grabbed the box and canister and put them both in my bag. I then examined the desks, there wasn’t much but I grabbed a few pages that interested me. I looked through one of the piles of papers; some of them had a few dark brown stains on them. “Is that coffee?” I silently asked myself. The room had really been making me nervous up to this point and now it was getting worse. Sweating I stuffed as many of the papers and various small reels in the room into my bag. Then, as quickly as I could without making much noise, ran out of the room lighting off of the light, closing the door, and leaving the film library without returning the card to the catalogue. If anyone ever returned to this room, I didn’t want them going into that small room. I felt as if that small drawing room was mine in a sense. It was my secret and I was going to keep it that way. To make a long story short, I left the library and got back without much trouble. I was questioned by a custodian who spotted me, but I made up some excuse about being up late to study, and falling asleep in the library. It is now 6:30 AM, and I have classes soon, so I guess I should stop for now. I’ll post again once I’ve opened the box. See you next time. - Jack Okay, a lot has happened since my previous post. This very well may be the last post I make but… I’m not sure. Right now I’m in the drawing room, as I feel this is the only place I’m safe from being watched. The contents of the box have changed me… I don’t feel comfortable disclosing what was on the film reel or what was in the box because I feel that I should figure things out but believe me… this is big… I’ve been coming back to this little drawing room a lot recently, and I’ve come to see it as a second home. Though I won’t say what’s in the box just yet, I want you people to know that this is dangerous… Those “coffee” stains on some of the papers I found were… blood… After realizing this I hadn’t gone back to the room or looked in the box for a long time. Eventually though I was drawn back to that small room with its two desks side by side. I began making my own drawings with the blank yellowed sheets, hanging them on every available surface in the room. You remember how I mentioned I felt the room was mine in a sense? Well, at this point I felt it was mine entirely… There were times where (quite literally I might add) my drawings contained my blood, sweat, and tears… Don’t ask about the blood part, just… don’t. I ate and slept less with each passing day, and eventually, due to my paranoia and new-found insomnia, I moved a small cot into the room and purchased a mini-fridge and microwave. I spent many nights in this room after that. I figure that for you to understand I need to tell you what’s in the box… I’m so nervous… but I must get the truth out… Let me start from the beginning, since my last post I discovered A113 was a secret project. I can’t give names of the three who started it, but what I can say is that it really scared me at first. A113, was the “final solution” if you understand what that means. If you don’t well, I’ll explain. Walt Disney, the founder of the school was allegedly anti-Semitic, and while he wasn’t responsible for this, a few others were. They admired Mr. Disney and often referred to him as Brother Walter in their journals, which were two of the group of things that were in the box. They aspired to be artists for a long time, and after graduating from high school in 1959, applied to several art schools. They never got accepted to any that they actually wanted to attend so they both found jobs and came together to make a small comic strip for a newspaper on the side. They scraped by until the year 1961. Walt Disney, the man they admired, the man they wished they could be, or at least be on the same level on, had opened an art institute, the very same one which I currently attend. They decided it wouldn’t hurt to apply and soon, they were accepted. They don’t mention any classes in the journals…. Except for one… They often described their class in room A113. According to the journals they grew close to their teacher, which probably wasn’t “appropriate” or whatever, but they often spent time together both in and out of the classroom. There were no strange happenings between the three really, but the things they talked about seemed… odd to me at first. Both journals contain pages upon pages of writing about how Jewish people are a “filthy and disgusting race” and other various hateful writings. According to the journals both the two students and their teacher were anti-Semitic, and often spoke about Hitler and the “return of the Third Reich”. At first I was disgusted, and just closed the box and avoided it for a long period of time. The contents of the box haunted me… I was too afraid to even think about it, and I often tried desperately to take my mind off it, though what I saw though had been burned into my memory. Whenever I closed my eyes I would see cities in flames, starved and beaten hoards of people herded behind electric fences, people being burned, gassed, hung, and other horrific sights. Even when I slept I wasn’t safe, and soon I began to grow interested in WWII history my curiosity always leading back to the box. After 2 weeks, I cracked; I took the box and film back to the secret library, and began searching for a projector. After finding one I watched the film I found with the box. It was a pro-Nazi propaganda cartoon, and it opened my eyes so to speak. The details of which aren’t necessarily important; however the message was clear to me. After watching the film I continued searching through the box. There were more film canisters which I watched, each more detailed and each targeted towards an older age group than the last. By the last canister, I had pretty much everything memorized, but the last canister showed me everything. I had seen the horrific sights that filled my nightmares unfolding before me in black and white on the wall of the drawing room. At first I was disgusted, in fact I even puked, but soon my grimace became a twisted grin. I felt something inside my chest swelling with energy, and it all finally clicked. I knew what had to be done. I continued looking through the box and found books, papers, diagrams, and much more. I read them all, day and night, and sometimes I even read them in public. The books weren’t labeled or anything and most of them were in German (which thanks to high school and family in Germany I spoke with relative ease) and seeing as no one would care enough to read them over my shoulder or anything, I felt totally comfortable with it. I’m still reading, finding out the secrets of the box. I won’t say what, but something big was and is still going on… So long for now… -Jack  