FloydU

Aight, listen up, you absolute normies and NPCs. It's ya boi, Schizolord420NoScope, comin' at you with the most based and redpilled story you'll ever hear. So strap in, grab your tendies, and prepare to get BTFO'd. So there I was, fresh outta high school, MAGA hat still firmly planted on my dome like a badge of honor. I'd helped secure the bag for the God Emperor himself back in '16, and now it was time for this absolute unit to get educated. But I ain't no cuck, so I wasn't about to waste my time at some soy-infested libshit university. Nah, I decided to go where the real Gs go - FloydU, the hoodest of hood colleges. Now, FloydU ain't your average school. This place is so based, it makes /pol/ look like a normie hugbox. First day I roll up, and who do I see teaching biology? None other than the absolute unit himself, Vaush. Yeah, that Vaush. The guy's got more chins than a Chinese phonebook, but I'll be damned if he doesn't know his stuff about the birds and the bees (and probably a few insects too, if you catch my drift). But biology ain't even the wildest class on offer. You wanna know what else they teach at FloydU? Breathing techniques. Yeah, you heard me right. Some hippie-dippy class where you learn to inhale and exhale like it's rocket science. But here's the kicker - it ain't just some new age BS. This shit's legit. They say if you master these techniques, you can hold your breath for hours. Days, even. Some say there's a senior who's been holding his breath since freshman year. But that's just a rumor... right? And if that ain't enough to make your noggin joggin', get this: they've got a whole class dedicated to counterfeit money. Not studying it, mind you. Making it. Professor Washington (yeah, that's his real name, can't make this shit up) says it's all part of "understanding the economy" or some shit. But we all know what's really going down. Now, I know what you're thinking. "Schizolord, my dude, this sounds too good to be true." And you'd be right to be suspicious. 'Cause here's where shit starts getting real weird. It was about three weeks into the semester when I first noticed something... off. People started disappearing. Not like, dropping out or anything normal like that. I mean full-on vanishing into thin air. One day they'd be sitting next to you in Vaush's class, arguing about the biological implications of attack helicopters, and the next - poof. Gone. No trace. At first, I thought maybe they were just getting NEET'd out. You know, going full hikikomori in their dorms. But then I started hearing... things. Whispers in the walls. Screams coming from the basement of the science building. And worst of all, the smell. Oh god, the smell. It was during one of those breathing technique classes that I first caught a whiff of it. We were all sitting there, trying to "become one with our breath" or some hippie garbage, when this ungodly stench hit me like a ton of bricks. It was like someone had taken a rotting corpse, stuffed it with blue cheese and durian, then left it to bake in the sun for a week. I opened my eyes, ready to call out whoever had dealt that nasty card, but what I saw made my blood run cold. Everyone else in the class was still sitting there, eyes closed, breathing normally. Like they couldn't smell a thing. And that's when I saw it - or rather, him. Standing in the corner of the room was a figure. Tall, unnaturally so, with limbs that seemed to bend in ways that would make Slenderman jealous. Its skin was pale, almost translucent, stretched tight over a skeletal frame. But its face... oh god, its face. It was like looking at static on an old TV, constantly shifting and changing, never settling on one form. And it was staring right at me. I blinked, and it was gone. Just like that. I thought maybe I was losing it, that all those hours on /x/ had finally fried my brain. But then I started noticing other things. The way Professor Washington's eyes would sometimes flicker, revealing something inhuman underneath. The strange symbols carved into the desks in the counterfeit class, symbols that seemed to move when you weren't looking directly at them. And Vaush... oh man, Vaush. I swear, sometimes when he's lecturing, his voice changes. Gets deeper, more... ancient. And sometimes, just for a split second, I could swear I see tentacles writhing beneath his shirt. But the worst part? Nobody else seems to notice. Or if they do, they don't care. It's like everyone at FloydU is part of some grand, cosmic joke, and I'm the only one not laughing. I've tried to leave, but every time I do, I just find myself back in my dorm room, with no memory of how I got there. The exits on campus lead to impossible places - doors that open into the void of space, hallways that loop back on themselves infinitely. And now, as I sit here typing this out on my ancient ThinkPad, I can hear them. They're coming for me. I can hear the scratching at my door, the whispers in a language no human tongue could pronounce. This is it, anons. This is where Schizolord420NoScope signs off for the last time. If you're reading this, stay away from FloydU. Don't let the promise of based education fool you. This place... it's not what it seems. And whatever you do, don't take the breathing class. Because once you learn to hold your breath... you might never be able to stop. END OF TRANSMISSION