Use the computer

As I boot up my laptop, I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. Finally, I have a chance to dig into the details, to piece together the puzzle of these mysterious suicides. My first stop is the university website, hoping to find more information about the students themselves, but my search yields minimal results.

I find only the names, ages, and majors, along with their year at the university. My next attempt is a search in the local newspaper archives. There, I find just a single, cursory mention of each ****, buried in the police briefs section. The articles lack any substantial information, and leave me wanting more.

Frustrated, I tap away on my laptop, its glowing screen the only light in the cramped motel room. I have more questions than answers, and my gut tells me that the truth lays buried deep within the university itself and the small town surrounding it. There is an underlying sense of something more sinister at play.

My mind races as I scroll through the meager details, trying to make connections and piece together clues. I navigate to a site where I can pull up public records, entering the names of the four victims. Autopsy reports and police reports flood the screen, the digital records revealing a wealth of information. I started by sifting through the autopsy reports.

Each **** seemed to follow a similar pattern. All four had slit their wrists in the bathtub, their bodies found in their dorm rooms. There were no signs of struggle or **** entry, and each had left a suicide note behind. I save the files to examine more thoroughly later.

The police reports provide additional context. According to the official records, each case was ruled a suicide, and the investigations had been swiftly closed. Someone was trying to protect the reputation of the university. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger at the apparent disregard for these young lives.

I couldn't shake the feeling that these young lives had been taken under suspicious circumstances. It was then that I decided to broaden my search, diving into the dark corners of the internet in search of anything that could lead me closer to the truth. I knew the task ahead was daunting, but the haunting images of those autopsy reports fueled my drive.

I would not rest until I had uncovered the truth and exposed those responsible for these seemingly orchestrated suicides. Tapping away at my keyboard, I set out on a journey that would lead me down a rabbit hole, one that I hoped would reveal the dark secrets hidden within the idyllic halls of the university. After hours of research, no closer to answers, I head a small, dimly lit burger joint.

As I slide onto a stool at the counter. My stomach growls, and I order several hamburgers. I bite into the first burger, and half-listen to the conversations of the locals. One man says, "Did you hear about the latest student to take her life? They say she'd been acting weird ever since she was caught in a compromising situation by a campus security guard."

My focus sharpens. Was a security guard blackmailing students. Could there be a connection? Another voice joins in, "I've heard people say that the number of suicides is higher than what's being reported, and the administration is hushing it up." If true, it won't surprise me.

An older woman insists, "The campus is haunted, that's what one of my friends believes. She says that the ghost of an old student who committed suicide haunts the place, making others follow in her footsteps." I take in these rumors as I finish my meal, leave cash on the counter, and plan my next move.