The Fun House

I’m just going to say right away, that I have no answers for anyone. I don’t know what happened to me. I’m still having trouble accepting that it did indeed take place. There’s evidence of it happening with the marks on my body, and the clear, vivid memory of the events. But alas, this is what went on at a place apparently called “The Fun House.”

I woke up in a room lit by nothing but the moonlight spilling inside through the windows. I was sprawled out on the hardwood floor of what looked like a living room. When I woke up, I was flat on my stomach, and upon lifting my head and observing my surroundings,I noticed a thick, palpable layer of dust on the floor, and in turn on the side of my face. I stood up, finding myself to be barefoot. I was in the middle of a set of dust-covered furniture. One long couch, a loveseat, and a big chair with an ottoman, all fixated to make the as-of-now fireplace the center of attention.

This house was literally what nightmares are made of. The furniture was all dated at least 60-70 years, as were the black and white and sepia-toned pictures that lined the walls. Every movement created a seemingly amplified creaking sound that filled the entire house. The air inside the abode was damp and heavy, and made it feel like gravity was working overtime. I looked down at my clothes, and saw they were tattered and torn, with dirt spots all over them, as if I’d been rolled around or dragged all over the ground before ending up in the spot I woke up.

I tried to remember where I had been before I woke up in the house and my mind was covered by a sheet of heavy, wet, figurative fog. The last thing I could remember was being at work. Not leaving work, not getting home from work, but actually being at work, on my computer. After that, my memory dropped off into a ravine of nothingness. I chose not to dwell on it at this time, and located the front door.

As I took my first step, the space throughout the house was permeated by a low volume rendition of that classic carnival song. Entrance Of The Gladiators. You know, the one that goes “do do dododododo do do do” (whether that helps or not, I don’t know, I just hope you know which one I mean). This filled my body to the brim with fear. The hairs on top of the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I instantly broke into a cold sweat. After that first step I found myself frozen, unable to move due to the haunting music that I just knew surely preceded something equally as horrifying. As the song played on and nothing popped out of the dark corners, I continued to the front door.

Once I made it, I unlocked the row of locks that lined the left side of the door. I pulled it open, and found myself face-to-face with a brick wall. I pushed against it, but it didn’t budge. Even though I knew it wasn’t connected to anything else, and didn’t go beyond the door, as evidenced by the small triangular windows on either side of the door through which I could see into the foggy night, it’s structural integrity was quite sound. I closed the door and planned to go to a regular-sized window. That is, until I realized that every window had bars on it. I was trapped inside this house.

As I tried to think of a way to escape, I heard a creaking from the floor above me. The carnival music ended, so that sounds of creaks that approached the staircase adjacent to the door is the only thing I could hear, save for my heavy breathing and heartbeat. I quickly hid behind the large chair in the living room, and awaited what was about to come into view.

The first thing I saw past the wall was a set of legs. Not one after the other, but at the same time, like whoever it was had hopped down the step. Next, I saw the rest of the figures body come down backwards, clearing about three steps. The figure repeated this process, descending the stairs like some deranged form of human Slinkee. In fact, as the flexible being reached the landing of the stairs, he struck a pose, his spandex leotard proudly showing the name “Elmer The Human Slinkee.” As he walked into the living room, it was like he was doing squats, lowering the top half of his body nearly to the ground before bouncing up and taking another step. He bounced around the living room, and when the light shone on his face, it revealed a terrifying visage. His eyes were wide, almost like he had no eyelids. He had a smile on his face, which put on display a set of blackened, rotting teeth. He seemed to look around for something, presumably me, then proceeded to go by the chair and into the kitchen. Then I heard a door open, and heard him descend another set of stairs, I’m guessing to the basement.

I didn’t want to walk around, because even while barefoot, I knew no matter how lightly I stepped, I would be heard. But I couldn’t just stay there behind the chair forever. I looked to my left for some sort of weapon, nothing. When I turned my head to the right, I was met with the knees of someone. I looked up, and it was a clown. My heart dropped to my stomach as I tried to yell out, but to no avail. I basically backwards crab walked away from the horrible looking entertainer, who started juggling. He had running white makeup on his face, and a red nose that looked like it had been used as a chew toy for a dog. His clown outfit was tattered and ripped, and much dirtier than mine. I got up and ran as he started laughing a horrible, guttural clown laugh that chilled me to my core. I ran across the living room, past the stairs, and into a dining room. I shouldn’t have.

In the room was a large table, that seemed to only be illuminated once I walked in. Seated around the table were eight children, all dressed identically, boys with the same haircuts, and girls with the same haircuts. When I set foot in the room, they turned to me and smiled. There was one empty seat at the end of the table. In practically the blink of an eye, all the children were pointing at the empty seat, presumably wanting me to sit there. Yeah….no. I ran up the stairs into a hallway with no nights. I was swallowed by the darkness. I felt my way down the hallway until I felt a doorframe. I found the handle and turned it, letting myself into a room that was filled with nothing but mirrors. I was going to turn around and leave before even stepping a foot in, but was pushed from behind in, with the door slamming closed behind him.

This room was small, but it had mirrors from floor to ceiling, including the back of the door. I was immediately disoriented. I walked through a small path I noticed, and basically said fuck it. I kicked the mirror in front of me at the time and it shattered. I kicked through another. And another. After what seemed like I had broken enough mirrors to have bad luck for the rest of my life, the room was more or less open, save for the frames of the mirrors. To my right was the door with the mirror on it, and I went to it, only to find it locked. I looked around the room, and there was a small square cut out of the wall with a tunnel. Deciding it was my only way to go, I crawled. Much to my extreme terror, it was filled with hundreds, perhaps thousands of spiders and centipedes. I could feel them crushing beneath my hands and knees as I hurriedly shuffled my way through the narrow passage, being sure to keep my mouth and eyes shut. I felt them crawling up the sleeves of my shirt, and up the legs of my pants, adding a tickle to the already unbearable event. I finally made it to another wall, which I punched through in my attempts to get out of that insect infected burrow.

I emerged through the wall to another room and immediately stood up and shook myself off for what seemed like minutes, even going so far as to take off my clothes and make sure they were void of any multi-legged mini-monsters. Even so, that feeling of something crawling on me never left, even to this day. It was when I got myself together that I noticed a closet. I really don’t know what compelled me to check it, but I did, and inside I found the hanging body of a man dressed in a worn-out business suit, with holes where his eyes should’ve been. A rat scurried his way out of the closet into the room, followed by some friends of his. I immediately turned and went for the door to the room, thankfully this time it was open. I returned to the hallway and looked to my left, seeing the third and last door before the one at the very end of the hallway. I entered, and it was a bathroom.

When I say it was a bathroom, I don’t mean a functioning one. The toilet was overflowing with feces and urine. The shower was coated with grime, and had a layer of what I can only guess was blood pooled at the bottom. The sink was a mess of tangled hair plugging up the drain, with some kind of black liquid staining the inside of the sink itself. I didn’t even bother going in, as the smell was putrid and made me gag just from the initial whif when I opened the door. I went to the final door at the end of the hall. I slowly opened it, trying to peek and see what was inside.

Before I could get a good look, I was pushed in from behind once again. I fell flat on my face, and looked up to see the clown and the Slinkee Man. The clown was standing there, pulling a long ribbon out of his sleeve, staring at me with malice intent. The Slinkee Man was arched over backwards, doing a crab walk for a few paces, then turning around and going back. I stood there frozen for what felt like an eternity, before I noticed a hole in the floor in the corner adjacent to the two horrifying beings. There was a ladder. I knew that was my only way out of this room.

I didn’t hesitate. I took about three steps and I was there. I dropped down to a seated position with my legs down the shaft, and found footing on the ladder. I sent the rest of my body down, and just before my head cleared the crest, I saw the two crazy looking entertainers with angry looks on their faces coming towards me; the clown pulled the final ribbon out from his sleeve and had a blade tied to the end of it. I crawled down the ladder, and looked up, I saw four hands reaching down after me. Then, a piece of wood was slid over the opening and I could hear a drill securing it to the floor.

Down I went, for quite a long time, until I reached a floor. I must have been in the basement. The floor was concrete. I still couldn’t see, because the opening to the rest of the area was about 3 feet off the ground. I had to uncomfortably fit myself under, and I finally saw where I was. It looked like a butcher shop. Blood stained basically every surface. There were tables with cleavers and knives of all sizes lined up, filthy as they possibly could have been. Luckily, I saw no meat of any kind. I made my way through the clear, blood stained sheeting that acted as walls and found myself in what looked like a bedroom. When I say looked like, I mean there was a bed and a dresser there, inside an area only enclosed by clear sheeting.

On the bed was a woman with a blindfold, striking a different sexually-influenced pose every few seconds. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so I crept my way by on the floor. Once I was past the bed, I looked behind me, and the woman was on all fours on the bed. She then pounced. I used all my strength and kicked off the ground, sending myself flying forward onto my stomach. The woman hit the floor and writhed in pain for a moment.  I shuffled forward and made it past the clear sheet that hung from above. I took one last look behind me before the sheet met its original placement and saw the woman quickly crawling after me, but stopping at the sheet. Then, she let out an exaggerated cry, like a baby throwing a tantrum. Blurred through the sheet, I could see her return to the bed, and throw a fit.

I stood up and continued on into the darkness before me. I finally reached a turn where I saw moonlight shining through something. It was a window! With no bars! I sprinted towards it. That’s when I heard the carnival music once again. This only encouraged me to move faster. I punched out the window, cutting my hand in the process. I pushed away any glass that could cut me on my crawl out and slid the top of my body through. Almost out, I felt a hand grab my ankle. I looked back, and the eight children, the blindfolded woman, the clown, the Slinkee Man, and some weird, all black unitard wearing being I hadn’t seen in the house were all at the window, grabbing for my legs, all moaning while the blindfolded woman wept loudly. I kicked furiously at the lot of them until I was able to slide the rest of the way out. I stood up and got away from the window. They all had their arms reaching through, moaning. I ran as fast as I could.

I ran until I saw a sign.

“We hope you enjoyed your stay at The Fun House! You’re welcome back any time!” with a creepy smiley face painted on the side of the message.

I kept running, and running, and running, until I saw something familiar. My car. I went to it, to find it unlocked. My shoes and socks were on the passenger’s seat. The keys were in the ignition, and there was a little post-it note on the steering wheel.

“Happy birthday!”

My birthday wasn’t for another two months. When I got home after like three hours of driving, I called each and every one of my friends, all of which said they had no idea what I was talking about.

I called the cops, and took them to the location of the house. Much to my surprise, it was still there, unlike the “Fun House” sign I had passed. The police entered the premises and found nothing. Just an old, empty house that had been abandoned for quite some time, as evidenced by the thick layer of dust that coated everything. Everything. There were no footprints anywhere. The cops thought I was lying.

I have no way to explain what happened. But I know it happened, because I have a cut on my hand from punching out the window, and bruised knees and elbows from crawling through the spider/centipede tunnel. I don’t think I’ll ever know what happened that night. All I know is I don’t ever, ever want to go back to “The Fun House” ever again.

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