SFUnexplained: Images Theatre is definitely haunted

Other people hear the piano playing in there at 3 a.m. sometimes, right?

ILLUSTRATION: Danielle Ragas / The Peak

By: Carter Hemion, Staff Writer

Have you ever wondered why time passes differently in Images Theatre? Have you felt a strange breeze when all the doors were closed, maybe with an unusual smell? (And no, the smell from your classmate’s apple-cinnamon-gasoline-flavoured vape doesn’t count). Have you noticed how the temperature seems different from outside corridors? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you will be glad to know there’s a perfectly logical reason for these phenomena: ghosts.

This lecture hall, with a capacity of 440 living people, is never unoccupied. It holds resentful spirits, likely angered by the constant campus renovations. Ghosts can be awakened by construction, and these university dwellers are no exception to this. 

I recall my first experience with an Images ghost vividly . . . The raccoons were especially distant, not trying to steal my lunch that day, as though they sensed something was off. At first, I thought it was odd there was an extra shadow behind my professor. I figured the lights were broken, just like every vending machine in the AQ. Then it happened. About 10 minutes into the lecture, a pale figure in a black suit slammed the door open, seemed to float down the aisle, and sat in the front row. It was the spitting image of a Beedie student — an overachiever in formalwear — but its eyes weren’t vacant enough to truly be an SFU student. After the break in that lecture, I never saw the figure again. Nobody else seems to remember or recognize the apparition, but I will never forget that gaunt face as long as I live.

If you don’t believe me, put together the evidence yourself. 

Students frequently lose their things in Images Theatre, never to be found again. Every time we leave the theatre, pathways across campus seem to change, with staircases leading nowhere and ladders pointing to nothing. Unusual stains appear, looking like blood but smelling like there was a sale on White Claws at Cornerstone. Pay attention: this is no coincidence.

When walking through the AQ late at night, it always seems relatively quiet . . . except for Images Theatre. Listen closely and you may hear the piano playing “Bring Me To Life” by Evanescence in a botched minor key, or what sounds like students’ voices yelling and watching movies; if you’re lucky, you might even hear faint voices singing old ABBA songs. Since SFU started the pandemic, construction has continued disturbing the spirits. It’s so severe the theatre is completely locked up to contain them. 

If you stand in or near Images Theatre in quiet hours, listen for the unnaturally loud buzz of the lights. If you take lectures there, notice how often your professor struggles with the projector and other technology. It is a comprehensive, respected post-secondary institution staffed with highly educated individuals with decades of experience in education. Therefore, it can only be the ghosts. This is Canada’s engaged university. It easily renovates every building constantly. Its budget grows with every tuition spike. These occurrences cannot be explained naturally. 

The worst part of it all? SFU has never tried to hide the hauntings. It’s called “Images Theatre” after the images of the dead, seen so frequently that even faculty cannot deny it.