DOOOORRRR

Another titular entry into the series of UHS DOORS! This time our brave adventurers explore the dungeon of university high. Will they make it out alive? Yeah, obviously. But we hope you enjoy!
-editors note

By Naomi and Maddie

As avid door-seekers, we feel we have kept this secret under wraps long enough. Not a secret, but a door. A door we have not investigated in any of our past issues, out of pure fear. It’s shameful, for famed writers and door enthusiasts such as us, but it’s the truth.

However, as beholders of truth, openers of doors and writers of Ubique, we knew that we could not let our dearest readers down. And that it was time to finally cover this door, a door that we thought could never be opened. A door that blends into the background so well, that no one knows it exists. A door that, guaranteed, the entire school has witnessed right in front of their eyes, not knowing where it leads, or even its existence in the first place; any observation dispersed by the sheer mundanity of its exterior.

Dear readers, we are talking about a very specific door, one residing in none other than Sharman Hall; the infamous gathering place for students, known for its large space, renowned for its broken speakers, and trademarked by its classic, sweaty smell from decades of teenagers. Off to the side, is the door…

The door to THE DUNGEON.

*DUH DUH DUHN*

So without further ado, your favourite writers of Ubique present: 

The dungeon of Uni High.

Now, why have we kept this fearful door under wraps for so long, a secret hiding in plain sight. Well, this door is one like no other, so cunning and secretive that even we had trouble locating it from its disguise amongst the pipes and skirting board of Sharman Hall. But once we saw its mysterious maw, we, as expert door connoisseurs, knew. This door was no ordinary door, investigated through mere happenstance. This was one that had claimed many forbidden things over the years, one that threatened oblivion to the unsuspecting theatre kid. Even walking past it, a cold chill would blow through the stagnant air, sending shivers down our spines in a gripping reminder of this door’s power. For so long, the power this door exuded served to stop our investigations from permeating its gloomy darkness. But there are only so many doors worth exploring in this school, and thus, after racking our brains for hours upon hours, this door stood alone at the forefront of our consciousness. Then, we knew. We could not desert our dear readers, despite our fear. We could not ignore this door, and thus, we bravely set out, to open this door and reveal all the secrets hidden within.

But of course, we could not go alone, for despite our door-related expertise, we were no match for this door among doors. So we assembled a party, and with a ¾ attendance rate, we felt confident in the success of our expedition. But to enter the door would be no ordinary feat, for simply grasping the handle and pushing did naught to shake the door’s immovable state of being. So we needed a guide, someone with the knowledge to get us through this unshakable entrance and into the perilous depths beneath. So we set off, not to the door itself, but to the drama office, where we would surely find a guide capable of getting us into the depths of the dungeon unscathed. 

The three of us ventured into what may be the second scariest door in the school, the door to the performing arts office in the music wing. The door which makes all theater kids quake with fear equivalent to that of the dungeon. There, we located our guide, and with that, we were already one step closer to the secrets sheathed within the dungeon’s depths. 

So with a trusty guide, who knew the secret to entering the forbidden land of the dungeon, we marched onward, towards an unknown and desolate future. And thus, passing GP on our way, we finally came face to face with our greatest challenge yet: the hidden yet simultaneously grand door to the dungeon. Our knees trembled, our eyes widened, and we couldn’t help but kneel at the infinite power this door exuded. It was like an ancient god, serving no one but its own doorish nature. It knew the weakness of humans, sending fear to paralyze us with a single creak of its hinges. But we had to press on, continue this adventure and see the truth lying at the bottom of this mysterious dungeon. So, hands shaking, we slowly got up, pulled out the key, and slipped it into the lock. The door swung open, creaking.

We were greeted with a cold stairwell clad in a raiment of shadows, that swirled around the depths and obscured our path. Cold air drifted up from the shaft below, as if pushing us back from the depths of despair. But we had not come so far to turn back now, and so, steadying our beating hearts, we set a foot on the first desolate concrete step, knowing then that our fate was sealed. 

As we descended the seemingly endless stairway downwards, the cold heightened, the shadows deepened, and our teeth began to chatter, from the cold, from the fear, from a terrible mix of both. Soon, we couldn’t even see a hand in front of our face, for the shadows blanketed everything in an inescapable darkness. But then, as we stumbled on the final steps, we found a door. A second door! The sight of a door, an oasis in this desert, served to invigour us, and we pushed forward, into the cavernous room that was our destination. 

Now, this room was nothing like we had ever seen, a destination so grand yet gloomy we knew it was hiding many secrets. Yes, this room was the kind where a dead body might be hidden such that no one could ever find it, hidden amongst the veritable castle of chairs crowning the back of the room. 

Many suspicious things were to be found in this room: a coffin with who knows what left within; some real metal swords that looked capable of doing incredible damage, should they fall into the wrong hands; and a surprisingly vast collection of wheels. The theatre students who frequented this place must surely be more than they appear, this much was evident from our preliminary investigation. 

Now, the true sign we had come to an area truly forbidden was the ‘KEEP OUT’ sign, a reminder painted in a shocking red reminiscent of a certain bodily fluid. This sign was ominous, but it would not stop us from exploring the depths of this abyss now we had finally reached it. Graffiti was another common occurrence in this place, as well as frankly dangerous ceiling heights, causing even us, with our average height, to almost crawl through the murky depths of this dungeon.

For hours we surveyed this place, documenting all our discoveries to be returned to the surface. And then once we had exhausted the dungeon of all its secrets, we finally, finally, returned to the light, ignoring the nausea fighting us at every turn, until we stood once again beneath the lights of Sharman Hall, our mission complete.