Constructed in 1834, Rhetoric House forms part of St Patrick’s College in Maynooth. The building originally served as accommodation for seminarians studying for the priesthood.

Yet despite its role as a place of learning and devotion, a dark story has long been associated with one particular room within the building — a room that some believe has never truly been at peace.

In 1841, a 21-year-old seminarian named Sean O’Grady was living in Room 2 at Rhetoric House. It had been noted by the college authorities that O’Grady had recently begun neglecting his studies. He had missed several Masses and his general discipline had begun to slip. Concerned about the young man’s behaviour, the Dean went to speak with him on the 1st of March. When he opened the door to Room 2, he was met with a deeply disturbing scene. O’Grady had taken his own life. His body lay on the floor, his throat cut.

In the days that followed, it emerged that the troubled student had spoken to others about experiencing a diabolical presence within the room – claims that had not been taken seriously at the time.

Because suicide was considered a grave sin by the Church, O’Grady was buried in an unmarked grave on unconsecrated ground, though his name does appear in the burial records.

For many, the tragedy might have ended there.

But it did not.

Nineteen years later, another student named Thomas McGinn was assigned to Room 2.

McGinn soon began complaining of disturbing dreams. He said he was unable to concentrate on his studies and that he felt persistently low in spirit. According to some accounts he had requested a different room, though it remains unclear whether he had been told of the earlier death that had occurred there.

One day after attending Mass, McGinn returned to his room. What happened next would become one of the most chilling stories associated with the college.

He later claimed that while looking into a mirror in the room, he saw the face of a demon staring back at him.

Overcome by a powerful urge to harm himself, he picked up a razor and felt as though some unseen force was attempting to take control of his body. With the door locked and believing he had no other escape, McGinn forced himself toward the window and threw himself from the upper floor.

He survived the fall long enough to recount the experience from his hospital bed to the Vice President of the college, but he later died from his injuries on 21 April 1860.

Like O’Grady before him, he too was buried on unconsecrated ground.

Word of the second death quickly spread, and rumours about Room 2 began to circulate.

After the first two deaths, students reportedly became so terrified that they began keeping their shaving razors in near-freezing water. They believed that the shock of a cold blade would snap them out of any “demonic trance” that might compel them to harm themselves.

Eventually, a priest volunteered to spend the night inside the room in an effort to discover what might be happening there and, if necessary, cleanse the space. The following morning he was found alive – but deeply shaken. Witnesses reported that he was crouched in the corner of the room, trembling and incoherent. Despite repeated attempts to question him, he refused to speak about what he had experienced during the night.

After this incident, the decision was made that Room 2 would never again be used as living quarters. Instead, it was converted into a small oratory dedicated to St Joseph, the patron saint of a peaceful death. The window from which McInerney had jumped was bricked up from the inside, where it reportedly remains to this day. Curiously, some modern floor plans of Rhetoric House do not include the room at all, though it still exists and is now mainly used for storage. The space itself is said to be almost empty – containing little more than a small altar and a religious statue.

Paranormal investigators who have visited the room have reported strange sensations in the area around the statue. Equipment has occasionally malfunctioned there, while others have described a persistent feeling of unease or the fleeting impression of shadows moving just beyond the edge of vision.

Local folklore also claims that dark stains visible on the floor are human blood, and that attempts to remove them over the years have been unsuccessful.

Officially, the college makes no reference to what occurred in Room 2. But one rule is still said to be strictly enforced for anyone entering the space.

Mirrors are forbidden.