Normally you don't get excited over stupid internet trends, but most people will go anywhere for money, especially broke college students. Now that you’re in college and have to pay for your own life and eventual debt, getting you to go to a haunted house for any amount of money, let alone the prize amount of $2000 for making it all the way through, is like eating ice cream after a breakup. That’s scholarship amounts, why wouldn't you go?
The big question now is why is this one open in July? You get that everyone has their interests, and it is a trend now so maybe the place decided to make an expansion for the exposure. Normally, you don’t pay attention to social media trends like that, but because you’re about to graduate college and have no plan on how to repay student loans, again, you’ll go anywhere for money.
You had thought about taking some friends with you just in case some weird stuff goes down or the house isn’t legit, but this was a big move you wanted to make in silence. No one needs to know how you come into money and you have to look out for yourself every once in a while. But, you do decide to call your dad on the way to the place. He’s not into the whole creepy thing as much as you are, but you doubt he’ll say much to try and stop you from going. The Facetime tone rang through the speakers in your car and at the second ring, your stomach drops in a panic. An overall uneasy feeling fills you and the car and you feel warm. Your palms start to get sweaty and your stomach will not stop somersaulting. You knew you wouldn’t throw up, mainly because there was nothing in there for you to throw up, but you pull over anyway just in case. As you get over to the side, your dad answers.
“Hey, Midget.”
“Hey, you still at work?”
“Yeah, I’m doing twelve hours today.”
“Oh. So, you aren’t getting off until 6:30?” You ask, slightly disappointed. There is a small part of you that knew he would probably work overtime today, but there was also a part of you that thought you could convince him to drive to the place with you, especially if you tell him how much the prize money is.
“6. Why, what is it?”
“Nothing. I was just asking. I think I’m going to take me a small road trip.”
“Where you going?”
“Nowhere special. Just a tourist attraction.” You were technically lying to him because one, you didn’t actually know if this was a legit thing or not, and two, you knew that it would make him uncomfortable to know you were going somewhere without anyone with you, to a place you had never been. You didn’t want him to worry, even if you were worried yourself. The bell sounds in the background of your dad’s call and you know his break is over. Your previous feeling of basic nausea was returning, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the need to cry. you turn the phone away from your face so that your dad won’t be late going back because he would be too concerned with you.
“Well, I’m going to get off here and go back to work.”
“Okay. Have a good day.”
“Alright. Here, Hazel says hi.” Hazel, my dad’s friend, waves at you from his camera. You aren’t particularly fond of Hazel; you’re not sure why because she had never done anything to you. You wave back.
“Hi, Hazel.”
“Hey, Cam!” she screams back. You chuckle and keep waving until your dad turns the camera back on himself and ends the call. You feel a lot better having gotten to talk to him, so you set back out on the road in search of the house. You can’t remember what it was called but the post on Instagram had an address in the caption so that’s what you decide to follow. You hope it takes you to the right place.
***
Finally, you pull into a gravel driveway around 6 pm. The “haunted house” looks like a normal house to you so you were really hoping this was the right address. There were no clear markings around to let you know it was, so the only other way to find out was to walk up and ask. With it being mid-July it was muggy and damp feeling outside. Mosquitos were everywhere and the dimming sunlight gave the entire atmosphere a swamp-house feeling. If your body hadn’t become 90% goose bumps then you may have actually thought the place was beautiful. When you stopped worrying for a few seconds and let the fading violet colored light hit it in the right spot, then it looked like something out of a fairytale. You walk up to the house a little more relaxed before you knock on the wooden door. No answer. You knock again, a little louder just in case someone didn’t hear the first time. No answer.
“You would think that a haunted house advertising $2000 for the person who makes it all the way through would be staffed a little bit better” You say to yourself. You settle on trying to turn the knob and to your surprise, the door opens. The inside doesn’t look like any haunted house that you’ve ever seen. It looks like the foyer to a bed and breakfast run by an older couple. Older decor that’s mostly wood or some variation of brown, light brown, and beige, the smell of bug killer and musk is obviously trying to be masked by air fresheners, and your personal favorite, dry, wilted flowers.
You go to the desk and ring the bell expecting someone to come and greet you but all you were met with was a note that said “Room 1 this way. Good luck. -Management”.
“That’s unsettling.” You notice you’re the only one in the house. You can't even hear other people talking, although the small TV mounted in the corner opposite the desk was playing a loop of the “ShamWow!” commercial on a low volume. You try not to think too much of it and brush it off by thinking that maybe fewer people knew about it than you thought; either that or it really was a scam. “Where is everyone? This place has been on TikTok for weeks. I at least expected people to be waiting for their turn.” You follow the arrow on the sheet of paper to the first door and begin your descent.
The first room wasn’t as bad as you expected. You assumed that this was going to be a thing of nightmares considering the prize, which, now that you think about it, wasn’t too big a prize at all, but the more you think about it, you’d only ever seen one video of someone actually winning the prize. Before you can react at your realization, the room lights up completely with fluorescent lighting and has fake, Party City style spiders and bats crawling and flying around, along with the cobwebs to match. You were more worried about getting the webs stuck to your clothes than actually being scared by anything in that room. You knew that more rooms would come, but if they were all going to be this same style of “scary” then this walkthrough is too good to be a real thing. But you aren’t one to turn down free money. You think to yourself “If this is all I have to do..so be it.” You shrug and continue to walk to the other side of the room to reach the next door that was marked with a number 2. Room 1 seemed more like an annoying joke than part of a haunted house attraction. The only thing haunted about this house was the sound the toy rats made while screeching past me.
Room 2 was a little better in terms of the creepiness factor. This room was lit only by a singular Edison-type bulb sitting on a desk in the center of the room. The auburn-colored cast was mesmerizing and at first, so you didn’t notice the multiple shadows that were fluttering across the walls. You walk over to the desk because you were somehow more interested in the condition of the light than you were about the dark room. Until someone asked “Do you like it?”
You whirl around looking for the source of the voice, not realizing that someone else had made it in here with you. You saw nothing at first, and then the shadows came and continued to dance around. You hear the cliché child’s laughter track play somewhere in the room and you use that as a crutch to bring yourself back to reality. You were supposed to be scared, or at least creeped out. That was okay; that was normal. The question was just asked so clearly, you were sure that someone was standing right behind you. You try to shake the uneasy feeling that you had allowed to creep up, and get rid of the goosebumps that you feel and continue to move forward through the rooms. As you stepped, another uneasy feeling washed over you and again, You feel as though you weren't alone. As quickly as you had made the realization, the voice spoke again.
“You didn’t answer me. That wasn’t very nice.”
You go against your nagging gut feeling and give the voice what it was looking for, an answer, thinking it might make the house a little more amusing to go through.
“What am I supposed to like?”
“My light bulb. It’s unique isn’t it?”
“Yes, I like the bulb. It casts a pretty glow.” Just then, my curiosity struck. “Is this your house?” I asked the still disembodied voice.
“Yes, do you like my house too? I worked really hard on it.”
“I expected more, honestly.”
“More? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” At this point you were across the room with your hand on the doorknob, waiting for the moment you can finally enter the next room. The sooner you get this done and over with, the better. “I’ll be going now.”
“Not yet.”
The doorknob started to feel really warm, then it was hot and burning your hand. You jump back a little because the sudden change in temperature catches you off guard. You look at your hand and blisters begin to form among the redness and swelling.
“What the hell?” you asked yourself. The doorknob was hot, but surely it wasn’t hot enough to cause that. The initial burn didn’t even hurt you; it was just startling. And then, it hits. You drop to your knees in anguish and your hand shakes uncontrollably. Searing, white-hot, flesh bubbles before your eyes and acting on instinct you cover it with the other. Warm tears sting your eyes like wasps and you grit your teeth so hard you hear a small, yet audible, crack. Great, more pain.
You’re finally able to open your eyes long enough to see that the skin on your hand is liquifying and sliding around your palm like soup. You try to clutch it to your chest and squeeze your eyes shut like they do in the movies, hoping that this would all stop. And for a brief second, it did stop. It stops long enough for you to notice the large lump that had time to form on your other arm. As quickly as it stopped, the searing pain began again but you are momentarily preoccupied with said lump. You want to poke it, to see what would happen, but you are too afraid of whatever your hand looks like to risk it. Then it moves. The feeling that shoots up your forearm is nothing short of unbearable. And then there were two, then three, now your arm is covered.
The lumps move around under your skin like it’s their new home and there is nothing you can do until you are covered in them. You scratch and claw at yourself hoping for relief at the feeling of static that’s crackling in your veins and for all the scratching, and peeling, and clawing, the more you tear at yourself, there is no relief until you tear deep enough to see 8 spindly legs rise up and out of one of the wounds. Then 8 more, and 8 more, and 8 more until the sight of the fuzzy black masses causes you to empty the non-contents of your gut right in front of you.
Your body has gone into autopilot, so the dry heaves and wheezing sound like something other than you. Your stomach is on a rescue mission trying to pump itself because your brain has malfunctioned. You stay on your hands and knees, trying to process what you saw when what sounds like scurrying happens behind you. You freeze as your mouth salivates again. You dead stare directly ahead but curiosity kills so you lower your head anyway to get a look behind you. Beetles. Hundreds of beetles the size of any man’s fist racing to see which one will be the victor in claiming you for themselves.You flip over and try your best at fighting them off, but you are quickly overpowered and violated by the creatures crawling up and under every inch of your skin. You hit and smack every possible area that feels like faulty acupuncture and when that doesn’t work, I resort to throwing yourself against the walls and the floor of the room until you finally throw yourself into the door of the next room. But room number 3 is no better.
You find yourself in a room full of animals you can’t see but can hear and many trees covering a vast area. On one side of this room, the canopy is visible and looks like a green, moss-covered mattress and your urge to lie on it was massive. You are in a jungle. Vines hang from branches and the stones around you look ragged. It isn't until you want to step forward so you can get a better grasp on what you are seeing that you realize you are standing on a narrow ledge. Your startled movements are quick and pebbles from where you stand crumble off and drop too many feet straight down. You don’t hear them make a sound. You clutch your chest and swivel your head around, looking for a path, but your heart sinks at the realization that your comfy cliff is cut off on both sides. Going around isn’t an option.
You turn to go back through the door you came even though that experience was something no one should ever want to go through again. But it doesn’t matter, because there is no door. There is just stone. Your heart wants to escape your chest the same way you tried to escape room 2. The constant thud begins to ring in your ears and that sound consumes all other noise in the room. You wanted to focus on the sound and put your damp hands to the cool stone. You can feel the thudding in your hands so per a former suggestion, you force a cough as a quick way of grounding yourself. You cough again because forcing dry coughs was going to be less harmful than banging your skull against the stone as a small way to convince yourself that everything is just a dream. You turn from the rock and stand with your back near it as a way to cool off but that doesn’t help, because you finally realize that the only way out was down.
You make yourself think of anything other than what you know you’re about to do. You do everything to psych yourself up for it. You think of puppies playing together and kittens napping.
“I should’ve never come here. I didn’t need the money that bad. I should’ve at least told someone where I was going. I could’ve been so much smarter about this. This is what I get for worrying about my damn student loans. Oh my God. Oh my God. What have I done? What did I do?”
And there you go.
You fall through the large and lush canopy for what seems like hours. This forest of sorts feels bottomless to you and something twisted inside takes comfort in that. Branches that stick out graze your arms, your legs, your face and leave small little cuts that would eventually fill with cute pools of blood. As the leaves smeared the droplets all over, more branches made it their job to draw more blood. But after falling for so long the stinging sensation is no longer a worry to you.
“Surely it’s been hours,” you say softly to yourself but you know reality time doesn’t apply here.
“Welp, no more worrying about what I knew was real. I mean, why does college, or bills, or anything pertaining to being an adult matter when I’m falling in what is probably a never-ending abyss?” You ask in an accepting tone. Because it doesn’t matter. $2000 doesn’t matter when you’re falling through nothing. Your body clicks into self-defense mode and as you continue to fall, so you stretch out your arms just so you can feel something, anything.You hold your eyes shut and let the foggy light continue to wash over you in peace, until it starts to dim, gradually.
Your eyes open and you notice the branches and the greenery start to dim and fade slightly, the further down you go. The last time you mustered up the courage to look behind yourself, you came face to face with a fear you didn't even know you had.It is obviously not something you want to experience again so you kept your eyes trained directly in front of you. As you fall and look ahead, you notice that the environment surrounding you continues to fall away. It was no longer just dimming; it was fading away into blackness. Everything around is starting to turn into black and the once lush, green jungle is falling away.
Empty dread fills your heart and you long for the familiar. The obsidian pit below housed something evil and there was no part of you or anyone else that wanted to find out what it is or how you are supposed to come in contact with it in the first place. Falling into the blackness makes you lose yourself.
“I want to see my friends and family again,” you sob. “I want to see real trees outside and hear real birds singing along to whatever tune they’ve made up. I want to live but there’s nothing I can do. I want to see my dad.” You try to stifle your sobs out of habit before realizing that no one was going to hear you anyway. The shriek you release is nothing short of demonic, covering your face with blood-stained hands. The smell of copper takes over your senses and you start to cry harder. You cry until you start to heave and can’t breathe and then finally, crack.
You land onto cool clay-like material that forms a ground beneath you. The impact would have knocked the wind from your lungs if you hadn’t already been crying and struggling to breathe in the first place. The initial hit deflates you even more and sends freezing electricity through your core. Any air that has been left inside is quickly evacuated and your instinct is to roll over and clutch your chest to hold yourself, but every slight movement causes dark, thick, liquid to escape your mouth. You close your eyes looking for relief and feel yourself drifting off into more nothingness, but this nothingness was more comforting and less sinister. However, the feeling of peace is short lived because soon after your eyes snap back open and you sit upright, gasping. The pain in your center is real and still very much there as are your scratches and dried blood.
“There is no way I should be breathing right now,” you think to yourself, shock settling in.
You want to stand and get a better sense of your surroundings, but the lack of pain is the only thing you can focus on. There is pain, but you should be dead. You feel the area and think that there is probably some bruising and broken ribs, but what you actually feel is much worse.
Jagged edges protrude through your skin and T-shirt and are covered in limp pieces of meat and the same thick, dark, liquid that had leaked from your mouth earlier. You pull your trembling hand away because all you can do is sit there in silence, pondering what you are looking at, what you are experiencing. This had all started just because you wanted fast cash, and now you’re sitting here staring at your insides becoming outsides. Your heart starts another one of its attempted escapes and every time it thuds against your chest more liquid cascades out of you like a waterfall in the middle of the 9th circle of hell. You are a human blood bag.
“So, you’re finally here,” A voice asks you.
You want to spin around and face certain doom. That’s the twisted part of you that wants to know how you’re going to die and who is going to kill you. The other part of you wants to confront the person that did this to you in the first place. But you can’t do either. You simply lie back and shut your eyes.
“Whatever you’re going to do to me, will you make it quick?” You ask, defeated and exhausted.
“If I wanted to do this quickly then I wouldn’t have taken you through the rooms, now would I?”
That is not the answer you want. You are disappointed, but not surprised. The voice of whatever this thing is, is haunting. It doesn’t sound like one being. It sounds like many voices being overlaid into one, almost as if more than one person was speaking.
“Who are you?”
“I am who lured you here. I took you through the rooms. I intend to keep you here”
“Where is it?”
“When will I realize I should be petrified and trying to find a way out? “I am surrounded by visible darkness, but what else could this thing possibly do to me? My damn chest cavity and torso are blown out but I’m not dead.”
“This is room number 5. The last room for you. You’re the first person to make it this far. Congratulations. Would you like your prize now, or later?”
“Prize? Surely this thing isn’t going to cough up $2000 and send me on my way. It would be nice, but I’m practically blown to bits. There’s a catch. Still, I played along.”
“Now, I guess.”
“Wonderful.” And just like that, the thing pounces on you. It holds you to the cool, damp ground with such power, you are sure it is going to force you through it. It licks the entirety of your face with its razor thin tongue and stares through you with its glowing bronze eyes. You were expecting something monster-ish. You were expecting a long, spindly creature with sharp, honed claws and hollow talons with your pierced eyeball hanging off for decoration. But that’s not what you got. What was looking back at you, was you. It has your visage but with dirty, ashen hair, face and nails caked with black goo, and the teeth…
Their teeth, your teeth, are needle-like as they curve their lips into a sickening smile. Those teeth should not have been able to fit inside that mouth, but you don’t have time to react because in a second their face is buried into your open body. Their chewing and slurping noises fill whatever space you are in and all you can do is lie there and watch in horror as they feast. They eat through your bones like saltines and lap up your blood as if it’s ice cream, dripping from your arm.
After they get their fill and look at you once again, they snake their body closer to yours so they can plant a bloody kiss on your face, right below your eye. Their whispers into your ear are sweet and tickle your ear. They are chanting and soon your essence is transferred from one body to another. You are now staring at your own mutilated corpse from some other distance, and then you hear the voice in your head.
“I wonder who is next to fall.”