What had once been a school is now a dangerous shell of the place. A scorched skeleton of the building still stands, but extreme caution should be exercised. It could crumble at any moment.

All records of what happened in this place are gone, though it burned some time before the town was deserted. Scorched desks remain, the metal bent out of shape. Shards of ivory linger in the ashes of the remains on the floor. It reeks of death and decay, and something infinitely more sinister.

Footsteps haunt corridors no longer there. A bell rings promptly at 8, noon, and 3, though no such thing exists here anymore. Whispers, the slamming of desks, and quiet sobbing can be heard. Those sensitive to emotion, the soul, or the dead are overwhelmed. The wave of crushed innocence is staggering.