The Haunted Rec Center
Everyone jokes that the rec center is haunted, but no one sticks around long enough to find out. One employee had no choice — it was their job to close up alone. What happened that night still makes their skin crawl.
The Haunted Rec Center
I work the closing shift at our local rec center just outside the city. Most nights it’s simple — turn off the lights, check the pool, lock the doors, and head home. It takes about 10-15 minutes tops.
But, this place has always felt… weird. Even during the day, there’s this heaviness in the air. I don’t really know how to explain it — it’s like the building’s old and mad about something. You get used to it, though. You tell yourself you’re being paranoid and just move on.
But one night, I just couldn’t ignore it anymore.
I pulled into the parking lot and sat there for a minute trying to talk myself into going inside. It’s completely dark — they don’t allow streetlights because of the observatories nearby — so you can’t see anything but shadows. I was staring at the doors when I noticed something off.
The magnetic doors were opening and closing over and over again.
No one was inside. The building locks automatically at 9:00pm, and it was already 9:10pm, so they shouldn’t have been doing that.
I figured maybe my headlights were setting off a sensor or something. I turned them off, waited… and the doors kept moving.
That’s when it hit me — that weird, heavy feeling again, only stronger this time. Like my body was telling me, don’t go in there.
But it’s my job, so I had to.
I badged in and said out loud, “Okay, whatever this is, leave me alone. I’m just closing up.” Yeah, I know how crazy that sounds, but it made me feel a little better.
I started going through the routine — lights, fans, pool — just trying to move fast and get it done. But as I went, I could feel this pressure behind me, like something was following me. The farther I went inside, the stronger it got.
By the time I hit the last hallway, it felt massive — like it filled the whole space behind me. I couldn’t see anything, but I swear I could feel it breathing.
I grabbed my phone and called home, put my family on speaker, and said, “Don’t hang up. Just stay with me. I sound crazy, but something’s here.”
Then I ran toward the exit.
I was yelling “Back off!” while sprinting down the hallway. I ran out the doors and into the parking lot, totally panicked. Of course, I’d parked way too far away, so I’m running across this pitch-black lot, fumbling for my keys, just whispering “please, please, please” over and over.
When I finally got in my van, I slammed the doors and just sat there shaking. I wanted to drive off, but my hands were trembling too much. I kept thinking, whatever that was, it knew I was scared — and it liked it.
I’m not the only one who’s felt this presence. No one stays long in that building. People quit in the middle of their shifts. Some refuse to close there at all. The doors move on their own, lights flicker, and over at the sister site, you can hear footsteps upstairs when it’s completely empty.
I’ve tried everything — saged the place, said blessings, even talked to it out loud. Nothing helps. I honestly think it’s something tied to the land. This area has deep Native history, and I don’t think whatever’s there wants us around.
Even the electronics act weird. Cars won’t start in that parking lot, batteries die out of nowhere, and radios cut off mid-song. And the animals — bats, sparrows, tarantulas — they all seem drawn to that building. It’s like the place is alive in its own way.
I still have to close the building when I’m scheduled. But now, every time I walk in, I talk to it first.
I’ll tell the spirit, “I’ll be quick,” or “I mean no harm.”
Most nights, it leaves me alone. But sometimes… the doors start moving again.
