It was a dark and stormy night. The night before press day. A young reporter was finishing up his article on the secrets of Bothell High School for the upcoming issue of the Catamount.

While editing, he decided to add the myth of the swimming pool under the school to his article—and what better way to uncover the secret of the swimming pool than looking for the pool himself. If he could find any evidence of the pool, the entire school would praise his article.

So off he went, pulling together all the information and alleged sightings he had heard from his interviews. As he was preparing to begin his search, the newspaper adviser heard his plan and followed the boy down to the pool.

The young reporter had finally found the entrance and proceeded down below the school. He was very surprised by what he found. The school’s myth was true! There was a pool under Bothell High School! He turned on his camera and removed the lens cap, ready to take a picture of his discovery, before he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find his adviser glaring at him.

“Nobody must know about this place. I’m sorry,” said the adviser, ominously. Before the student understood what was happening, he was pushed into the pool. When he tried to resurface, something blocked him. After about a minute of struggling, he fell unconscious.

The newspaper adviser dragged his body out of the pool. Nobody could know that he had drowned one of his students. Quickly he carried the young reporter up to room 770, hoping no one had noticed him.

He looked for a good hiding place for the body, before deciding to stuff it into the ceiling. The advisor left the room in a hurry, locking the door and turning off the lights. That night, the first fly of room 770 flew towards the ceiling and the lights flickered on.

To this day, the body is still in the ceiling, attracting flies all times of the year. As for the young reporter, his ghost haunts the room and causes problems for the newspaper staff. He jams printers, removes inDesign from computers, and turns the lights on and off at will.

To this day, only Mr. Jacob Crouch, the Catamount’s current adviser, has laid eyes upon the ghost of Catamount’s past.