At the time this event took place I was a Graduate student studying archaeology. As an archaeologist I tend to be fairly open minded about the things that occur around me and I have had experiences with ghosts several times but what I am about to share scared me more than anything else ever has.
I entered Graduate school in 1989 at the University of Kansas and as a grad student I was given space for an office so that I could study and do school work on campus. KU has a very good anthropology museum and the archaeology grad students were given office space in the basement.
One night I had stayed quite late to work on an assignment. I had my radio on and didn't think anything about being the only person in the building, even though it was nearly 2:00am. I was deep into my work and really not paying attention to anything when I suddenly began to notice a series of small noises that were coming from the corner of the room farthest from my desk. Each office space was formed out of metal cabinets and shelves and I couldn't see the corner but the noises kept getting louder. I tried turning up the radio to cover the sound but each time I did the noise got louder. It was almost like it was trying to attract my attention. When I finally realized fully what was happening I shut the radio off and really started to listen. That was when the sounds changed. They went from "knocking" to a slap on the backs of the metal cabinets and shelves. That was pretty scary on its own but when I realized the sounds were moving towards me I thought my heart would stop. It was like someone was walking along and slapping their hands on the metal every second or third step. I stayed where I was until "they" turned the corner and were only about ten feet from my office. Needless to say, I bailed. As I ran from my office and out the door I looked towards the sounds and, of course, no one was there. As I left I didn't take the time to even shut the door or, God forbid, shut the light off. I simply bolted up the stairs and out of the museum.
I found out the next day that the museum staff was pretty mad about the door being left open and the lights left on. The other students who shared the space with me knew I was the one who did it but never told anyone because they had all had experiences as well. It was kind of a test for the new kid on the block. After the new person had their encounter then the rest of the students would tell them about the ghost.
It seems that the ghost, or whatever it is, is tied to the museum collections because the ghost has been heard or felt each time the museum has moved. There are so many stories about the museum that it could fill a book. It is a spooky place and yet, rather fitting in a place that is filled with pieces of so many vanished lives.