My Haunted Academia! || A Series of Horror Collections

❝𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥❞

I'm usually a very clean person; a perfectionist or someone you'd say has a problem with unkempt places.

My parents decided to toss me out of their house. Over time, my problem had only gotten severe; too toxic for them to handle. I don't blame them, I also thought it was for the better. Having isolated myself from the rest of that contaminated house was the best thing to ever happen to me.

All my valuable items and collections were successfully placed on a thoroughly wiped and polished hardwood shelf, sitting in an orderly fashion. Every one of my books were hard-covered, perfectly in line with the others while piecing together in chronological order. I felt proud of my works of art.

I made sure everything was properly and flawlessly sanitized, as well as my hands, so there was no germs that came in or out of my studio apartment... unless it was from out of my own ass. It was a human thing to do, I am no flawlessly designed machine, or superficial being. Whenever I had to get rid of my... unsanitary waste, I made sure it'd be cleaned as quickly as it came out.

Everyday, I woke up the earliest the birds were singing; in a melodic chirp, and slept when the stars were hanging blissfully, illuminating the vast night skies.

Because of this obsessive compulsive disorder(OCD), as well as Mysophobia, most of my actions were running on auto-pilot. My day was very structured, I even had routines for every second I spent outdoors; despite knowing that 40% of my day will be undoubtedly unpredictable. Needless to say, I am very proud of the person I've grown to become.

"I think I'll reward myself with a meal, and then take a briskly shower afterwards." The time read half past eleven o'clock, nearing midnight. The restaurants that I'd normally choose to order from, were closed. Being it out of my control, I was starving, and I definitely did not foresee spending three hours of my break to write.

There always had been a joint one of my colleagues presented to me a while back; it runs for 24-hours straight. Despite its unkempt appearance, I could appreciate the chefs taste in whipping up delicious cuisines. His efforts were flawless; in fact, he was able to put even the finest dishes to shame with just a pack of pre-made Top Ramen noodles.

My fingers grazed and traced along the sharp lining of the smooth paper as my eyes eagerly skimmed the object thoroughly. While I so desperately itched to find the contact information for the local shop only blocks away from me, I felt my taste buds arise, tickling my tongue for something to be of satisfaction to them. My stomach began kicking, also partaking in tormenting me, demanding to be fed. My lips were parted, only repeating the same few words.

"Where is it? Where is it? Where... is it?-- Ah-ha!" In a triumphant click, my face gleamed in child-like excitement. "I've found you." My fingers were already stretching across the screen, entering the digits into the house phone which just barely fit in the palm of my broad, over-sized hands.

"I'd like to order a bowl of..." From there, I didn't even know what I said. My voice became so little, practically drowned out by the larger and superior voice telling me to speed things up.

It was going onto 12AM, and by then I was impatiently waiting for my food to be delivered to me swiftly. Anxiously, my hands did what they were meant for: cleaning and organizing. Time only flew by, and by the time I began to finish, there was an audible ring bouncing off the walls of my studio apartment.

My expression noticeably brightened, yet I casually approached the door with a monotonous expression playing on my sharp features. I didn't really care to question why it took him thirty minutes when the estimated arrival should have been less than twenty minutes ago, but I didn't care. The only thing that came to mind while I was approaching that sealed door was that I'd finally get to relieve this overwhelming discomfort settling in my stomach. During my rush towards the door, I habitually stubbed my toe against the heavy metal belonging to my solid dumbbell. I groaned as silently as humanly possible while I fought the pain; regaining my composure.