Interesting piece from Holy Cross Magazine about folklore associated with the college -- specifically, the 'Fenwick Exorcism' -- the whole article is worth a read, but the conclusion (a visit to the 'exorcism room') is interesting:

Unlocking the door at the top of the "Stairs to Nowhere" reveals a flight of six steps leading to yet another door. A sign, in red, reads: Only Authorized Maintenance Personnel Allowed Beyond This Point. One thinks of Dante and Virgil at a similar portal.

The "Exorcism Room" is tall and surprisingly bright and airy, about 35 feet long and 25 feet wide—with windows on two sides, through which one sees a sweeping view of Worcester. In one corner is a small storage loft. The varnish on the hardwood floor has been worn down to the bare wood in places, and the walls are cracked with age. On one side, an electrical conduit, torn from its moorings, hangs limply.

These days the Exorcism Room falls under the aegis of the alumni and development offices, and most of its contents reflect the work of that department. There are Holy Cross T-shirts, Holy Cross banners and Holy Cross hats. There are pamphlets and brochures extolling the benefits of giving to the College. There are boxes upon boxes of fancily packaged tchotchkes bearing the Holy Cross colors and insignia to be handed out to generous alumni: tie-tacks, name-tag holders, Christmas tree ornaments, silver bowls and knights' helmets.

With the opening of every box of knickknacks, the color purple glows warmly from within. But there are two items—a bag of balloons marked "purple" and a Holy Cross tie—that stand out from everything else. They have both turned inexplicably and profoundly black.

Just off the Exorcism Room, beneath the storage loft, is a smaller room filled with the mustiness and genteel friability of an antiquarian's den. There are disposed-of filing cabinets containing lesson plans, worksheets, class records and even student recommendations dating back to the 1960s. The walls are lined with books, mostly by classical authors. The giants of the classical pantheon are well represented, including Homer, Euripides and Aristophanes in the original Greek, and Virgil, Horace and Juvenal in the original Latin. There are countless copies of Harkness' First Greek Book, a hugely popular introduction to the language that was first published in 1850. The only artifact in the room even suggesting modernity is a hefty Webcor tape recorder that was in use during the late 1950s.

But in this room, this sanctum sanctorum (or rather, this impium impiorum) of Holy Cross' most enduring legend of the Dark Side, one may indeed find the handiwork of Old Nick.

On the floor, among the yellowing grammars and readers and lesson plans generations old, is a book with a bright scarlet cover. No, it is not a text on demonology, nor a record of the horrific exorcism that took place within those walls. Worse, it is a vocabulary to aid in the reading of Demosthenes' Orations. Worse still, its publisher—cue shrieking Hitchcockian violins, the cackling of devils and the groans of the damned—is Boston College.

Classics -- gets the demons out.