Menagerie100 Years of Lasallian presence… from the beyond! Tales of La Salle’s Animo Spirits
100 Years of Lasallian presence… from the beyond! Tales of La Salle’s Animo Spirits
October 27, 2012
October 27, 2012

The Menagerie presents a compilation of stories, collected from the Internet, students and employees alike; stories that have struck the hearts of even the bravest of folk; rumors of ghosts and ghouls that have haunted our grand halls. Read further if you dare.


Bro. Connon Hall (SPS)

It was a happy Thursday, and with a long weekend looming just around the corner, to-do lists include well-deserved relaxation and stress-release for Lasallians. One exceptionally unlucky student got too much release.

The student took an elevator in this certain building, back when it (the elevator) was still there perhaps happily imagining the things to be done over the course of the weekend, but the elevator broke down, leaving the student trapped inside.

The student, with only panic, hunger, thirst, asphyxiation, and the cold elevator for company, slowly wavered from the fun weekend ahead. And more.

Just like the police in almost every action movie, the building personnel were too late (three days to be precise) to save the student. They finally fixed the immobile elevator on Monday and realized afterwards a grave, cold, and dead error that would change the history of the SPS building, not to mention the travel time of its future residents.

It is believed that until today, the ghoul of the student still roams around the SPS building, although no news of any alarming phenomena are reported. Elevator, you ask? If I were you, I’d be curious of that door beside the SCoOp (Student Co-Operative) window.


Enrique M. Razon Sports Center

It is the birthplace of FITWELL, and it is where the strongest icons of the Animo spirit, our athletes, are first discovered and harnessed. And speaking of spirits, Razon also has a number of those, though a little more limbless, invisible, and infinitely more playful.

Every night on the ninth floor, an uncanny group of chaps start to inhabit the courts for practice games. Oh, it’s just a headless Lasallian basketball team shooting some hoops, that’s all. How they died? That is what the gossip left out. I guess one could say that these fellow Archers surely have a much harder time getting their heads in the game.

Another famous tittle-tattle also comes from Razon. At 8:30 pm, after a volleyball practice and a shower, one girl is left alone on the ninth floor. With only the moonlight and fire exit lights to guide her, she successfully navigates herself to the elevator. Fine.

Weirdly enough, the elevator stops and opens at every floor going down, but no one is coming in, at least by what she could see. As she reaches the second floor, the ever-surprising overload jingle of the Razon elevator starts to ring frantically. She runs out as fast as she could.

Saint Joseph Hall

With almost 57 years of existence, the Saint Joseph Hall caters not only to various laboratories, animal organs, and cat cadavers, but to a chilling (or rather, burning) lab anomally.

The media was there to record the calamity; a strong fire started at the top floor. Firemen went in and out the building to rescue the savable, hosed out all the fire they could expel; media men also covered the fire to report all they could; and onlookers were, well, just looking.

But in a window of the top floor, where the fire was most intense, a camera crew captures a scene of a laboratory gown-clad and surprisingly calm student looking down.

The student wasn’t asking for any help nor was he even moving; he was just smiling.


Science and Technology Research Center

The STRC becomes the home of the College of Science students in the time of thesis and finals. The place becomes witness to long, sleepless nights, and unfortunately, these struggling students may not be alone in their struggles. Many students have had experiences and stories, but one stands out, the eeriest of all.

A graduating group was staying at the STRC for a thesis all-nighter. Two of the students felt bloated, so they went to the bathroom together for some relief. On the way, they noticed that someone was coming up the elevator, so one decided to wait for the passenger, thinking that it might be one of their friends, and the other went on to do his business.

The one waiting made a wrong mistake in not going to the comfort room first. As he looked into the elevator, he saw a woman all in white with very long hair.

But without a lower torso.

Yuchengco Hall

Yuchengco hall is commonly known for its tales of welcoming students who need to relieve themselves of internal after-meal pressure, but there is another tale to this building that assures relief for no one.

It was near the end of the day when a young student had a bit of a bowel emergency. He rushed down the stairs of the St. La Salle Hall and ran straight for the large, lone Yuch elevator at the southern part of the building.

At this point all the boy could think of was sitting on his holy throne, once the elevator opened he ran for the bathroom. He rammed through the door, pushed open the cubicle and finally did the deed.

The boy was breathing deeply from his run, but he was relieved to be finally sitting down. Suddenly, he heard footsteps from outside. He thought that it as only a janitor and paid no attention.

When finished, he fixed up, went out and proceeded to wash his hands; again he hears the sound of footsteps outside. The footsteps seemed to get closer, but he didn’t mind them.

When he finished, he walked outside, curious not to find a janitor in sight, pressed the down button on the elevator and waited.

Again, he heard footsteps so he decided to take a peek, but there was no one in sight. The footsteps didn’t stop, they grew closer and louder. Starting to panic, the boy pressed the button again and again.

Louder and louder the footsteps came.

The elevator opened, he ran and pressed close. As the doors slowly met, in the boy’s final sight of the hallway: a man in white ran for the elevator.

Closer and closer the figure ran. The boy froze in fear. The man was drenched in blood, running and screaming.

The doors closed.


A building for those into the books or doing research; mostly the latter. Home of the Literature Majors, the library has served as a sanctum of knowledge, wisdom, and sleep. Though one might think twice before snoozing in this building’s darkest corners.

One fine Monday, “Hannah” and her friend went to the library to work on their ENGLRES paper. After leaving their bags at the counter, they proceeded to the third floor. Hannah started looking for books that they needed while her friend went to the bathroom. She placed her books on a desk and started working.

Shortly after, her friend returned and sat down next to her and started working as well.

After writing down some notes her friend stood up and walked to the bookshelves behind their seats. Hannah didn’t mind this, thinking that she was going to look for more books.

Minutes passed and Hannah started wondering why her friend hasn’t come back. Minutes again passed and Hannah started to worry; she started to look for her friend.

She went to the bookshelves and found her friend sleeping on one of the desks behind the bookshelves.

She tried to wake her, but she did not budge. She tried talking to her, but the monologue also failed.

Angered, Hannah left her friend so that she could finish their research. Once back to their desk, she was surprised to see her friend sitting there writing down notes.

Hannah approached her and asked where she had been. Her friend said the she never left, and told that Hannah was the one that left suddenly. Hannah was in shock; she quickly ran back to where she saw her friend sleeping, and to her surprise, someone was still there, sleeping.

But it was no longer her friend.

Hannah felt confused that she had mistaken her friend for someone who looked nothing like her. Hannah walked closer to see her face, to see if she really looked like her friend.

Not even close. She didn’t have a face. Hannah screamed and ran out, leaving their research to rot.

Moral of the story: Do not disturb people sleeping in the library.


Mutien-Marie Hall

Mutien-Marie Hall has long been a building of ghostly rumors in the Lasallian community. Home of the Harlequin Theatre Guild’s annual “Haunted Hall,” very few classes are made in this historic hall. Occassionally, however, the hall accomodates some engineering and history classes.

At around 7 pm, “Juts”, an engineering student, and two of his friends were shooting a video for a project. They were on the second floor filming their video.

With only a few takes to go, the group was hastily finishing their work, knowing the ghostly reputation the building had. While they were about to finish the shoot, Juts noticed someone passing by their room.

Juts went out to check who it was; he looked around, even checked the stairs. But no one seemed to pass by. Confused, Juts returned to the room and explained to his friends that no one passed. Though a bit unnerved, the group carried on with filming.

Juts, by the way, left the door open after he got back from his investigation (You supreme idiot! –Ed.)

The group continued to film their video. Suddenly, the door left ajar slammed shut, giving out a loud bang that startled Juts and his friends. They were startled, as they felt no wind, and no normal wind could be strong enough to bang the door with such energy.

Then, right after the door slammed… the air conditioner… turned off! With the beep of the air conditioner, Juts and his friends gathered their equipment as swiftly as they could, bursted out the door and ran.

Leaving their project unfinished. Guess the room number.

St. La Salle Hall

St. La Salle Hall, DLSU’s first and most symbolic building. Served as a shelter during the Second World War. Home of the Chapel of the Most Blessed Sacrament, and a menagerie of horrors in itself.

One afternoon, a young female student went to the Chapel to pray for her finals the next day. The chapel was empty, and she chose a seat near the altar and started to pray. Her eyes were closed, mind deep in prayer. Everything was silent.

Not one sound was made. The girl still deep in prayer, felt a hand resting on the back of her head. She opened her eyes, looked behind her. Nothing. It seemed that she only imagined it.

She turned back at the altar. She froze. Standing in front of the altar was a bloody soldier with a bayonet stabbed into his chest. The girl was petrified, still unable to move. The soldier collapsed to the floor, crawling. The girl couldn’t blink, she couldn’t talk, her mouth was open, and she stayed sitting frozen.

The soldier crawled closer to her, crawling on his back with the bayonet protruding out of his chest, pointing straight to the ceiling. Using every bit of courage she could scrape, she finally moved; she closed her eyes, started praying faster and faster.
Everything went quiet, she could no longer hear the bony crawls of the soldier.

Feeling relieved, she opened her eyes. Blood. Blood everywhere. Blood was spattered in every corner of the chapel. The soldier laid still on the pool of blood.

The girl became hysterical. She stood up, ran for the exit. Her feet splashed in the blood. She grew close to the exit, but suddenly, a figure blocked her way. A headless figure, seeming to wear a priest’s outfit. Or was that a Brother’s rabat?

The girl didn’t know what to do; full of fear, full of desperation. She knelt to the ground, laid down, curled up in a mortified fetal position, closed her eyes and screamed for release.

Someone tapped her as she laid on the ground. Damn! She opened her eyes, unready to meet this new demon.

No blood, no soldier, no headless priest. She stood up still distraught from what had happened. She looked at the janitor who tapped her and asked him what happened.

The janitor said: “Ma’am bawal maingay po sa chapel.”

We congratulate you, dear reader, for successfully finishing this mythical piece with your brave soul intact. You have a strong bladder! But may it be instilled in your mind that such anecdotes are products of a pure and human spoken culture, and therefore should not be purely the basis of fear and belief.