Welcome to Horror Mansion

The golden leaves crunch beneath my feet as I walk through the forest toward the abandoned barn. In a few days, this place will be transformed once again into a loud, extravagant haunted house, one that appears here every year and stays until Halloween. But right now, it is just another expanse of abandoned and overgrown piece of farmland that surrounds Esteredge. A cold breeze ruffles my hair and seeps into my coat. In the distance, a single candle is lit in the decaying building. I turn around and hurry home.

***

Word travels fast, but none spreads faster than the news that Horror Mansion is opening tonight. I awake to a hundred messages telling me about it; from every person I know, and a few that I don’t. Horror Mansion is the biggest event of the year here. Everyone goes at least once, and a few go more than that, despite the hefty admission fee.

It is not just the ever-changing theme that attracts people, but the mystery surrounding the haunted house. No one knows who runs the place, or how it seems to magically appear overnight. Most appealing, however, are the disappearances. Almost every year, one group of people enter Horror Mansion and are never seen again. Some believe they are taken by a demon, but others argue they are transformed into the zombies, goblins, and scarecrows that wander around the property and scared any trespassers away. Neither of these examples are logically possible. People like Sienna spend each Horror Mansion trying to find the truth.

This year, she finally convinced me to go with her, desperate to solve the case and finally get a job at some glamorous big city detective firm. Her excitement is contagious. Yet I can’t shake the nagging feeling that something big is going to happen there this year.

It’s 9 when Sienna and I arrive at Horror Mansion. Already, it is packed with people, and nearly impossible to find parking. We end up leaving the car three blocks away and walking the rest of the way. The gloomy field from before has vanished, replaced by dimly lit walkways, tombstones, and an impressive mansion. Mist coats everything, obscuring most of Horror Mansion from view. Despite the crowds, there is an eerie atmosphere about the place.

We join the line, and stand there, trying not to shiver in the unusually cold fall air. Per tradition, everyone is dressed up, and we try to distract ourselves by naming our favourite costumes.

“Mine is definitely the clown,” Sienna says, gesturing to a girl with a curly red wig, dark eye makeup, and a tinfoil silver dress, “but the inflatable is not bad.”

“I like the queen. The one with purple robes and a tall crown. But ours are pretty good.” I am dressed as a vampire; blood-red lips, dark velvet cloak, and a set of plastic fangs found in the back of my closet. Sienna is my opposite, an angel. She has a white dress, suspended halo, and small, fluffy wings. Both don’t offer us much protection against the weather, or what will be waiting inside.

The line slowly moves forward, and screams begin to shatter the air. Conversation ceases as people stop to listen, and tremble, as if they just realized what they were signing up for. But no one leaves: they would be teased for months if they did. Sienna buries her face in her notebook, hastily memorizing every clue, theory, and vague speculation ever made about Horror Mansion. I mentally prepare for what is ahead.

We eventually reach the front of the line. Sienna tries to weasel information out of the lone ticket master, but to no avail. Defeated, she hands him a thick wad of dollar bills, and the weathered wooden doors creak open. We step into the dark entryway, lit by the flickering fire of sconces on the wall. The tiles beneath my feet are dark and slippery from the moss growing on them. Ahead of us is a double stairway that leads onto the second floor landing, then continues onward to the top of the house. We walk toward it. On the side tables are vases of long-dried, decayed flowers. A unlit crystal chandelier reaches down from over our heads.

Sienna confidently steps onto the staircase, and just in time. The axe misses her by inches. We both turn toward the dusty suit of armour, which seemed harmless before. An arrow flies down from somewhere above us.

“RUN!” I shout, but she is already flying up the steps two at a time. I follow, jumping over a spiked ball rolling across the foyer and springing up the stairs with more speed than ever before.

Sienna is lying on her back at the top. For a moment, I think she’s been hit, before I hear her quietly chuckling like a maniac. “That was amazing!” she grins up at me. I raise one eyebrow at her. “What? I haven’t got so much exercise in months.”

I roll my eyes, and look back at the stairs. It is littered with arrows, and covered in an unidentifiable dark substance. Poison, maybe? For some reason, Horror Mansion already seems so much more real this year. Like these things will actually harm us.

“Let’s move on.” I say, starting down the hallway in front of us. This one is not much different that the entrance, except here there are windows overlooking the gray sky and newly erected cemetery below, as well as portraits of intimidating, long-dead people on the walls. About halfway down, I glance back at Sienna, who is still lying on the ground, with no sign of movement. “Do you want me to leave you here?” She doesn’t react, but after a few seconds, she hauls herself up onto her feet and walks slowly toward me.

“What do you think is the theme this year?” She asks.

I think about it. “Honestly? No clue.” Sienna considers this as we venture further into the house.

Every once in a while, we reach a fork, and choose the one that appears the daunting. More often though, the halls stretch on and on, and I feel as if, at every turn, we are walking through a maze. I voice my thoughts to Sienna, who takes note of them, but seems more invested in trying the handle of every door we come across. All of them are locked, and the journey is pretty uneventful until we reach the library.

It is a large room, opening directly from the hall, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a few armchairs, and an unlit fireplace full of charred wood. But like all the other parts of Horror Mansion, the room feels as if no one else has ever stepped foot into it before.

On the table lies a crumpled scrap of paper. I carefully approach it and, when nothing spawns from the shadows and attacks me, pick it up. Sienna peers over my shoulder as I smooth out the crumpled piece to find a short line:

To move on, find the book that is different.

“This is going to take forever.” I complain as I survey the hundreds of books surrounding us. All of them look identical. Blue spines with swirling gold detailing.

Sienna approaches the leftmost corner and starts at the bottom, pulling out books, looking over them, then replacing them onto the shelf. She looks over her shoulder to find me still rooted to the spot. “If you don’t start, we will be stuck here.” Reluctantly, I head to the far end of the room and begin sorting through the novels.

Time seems to slow. Within minutes I am ready to give up and I can tell Sienna feels the same way. Still, she refuses to turn back, and I don’t mention my own nerves. My hands slow, and the titles blur by. It seems as if the same three or four books are placed endlessly on the shelf. This could take awhile.

My eyes are so unfocused that I almost don’t register when I pull the book out. It is already back in its place when I realize that, despite it’s blue spine, the book is really a deep red colour. “Sienna?” I hate how uncertain my voice sounds.

“Did you find it?” She calls back, and within seconds she has crossed the room, abandoning her spot on the bookshelves.

“I think so,” I show her the book, “have you seen any other red ones?” Sienna shakes her head.

“Is there a switch or something behind it?” She reaches into the gap, and after a few seconds, there is a loud click, and the shelf moves. Sienna pushes against it, and I help, until it has moved enough to allow us through. We slip behind the bookshelf, and it slides back into place, locking us into the next room.

We have not gone more than a few steps in the room before one of the dark checkered tiles sinks beneath my feet. I immediately jump off it, moments before the tile dips into the darkness below and disappears from view. Somewhere to my left, Sienna gasps.

I rush to her side. She is unscathed, but shaken. “Did the floor just vanish? Is that… normal?” From my new vantage point, I watch as the land beneath our feet slowly falls out of sight. If we stay in one spot, we will be trapped forever.

“Follow me.” I sprint across the remaining tiles, not slowing even when solid ground recedes beneath my feet, leaving me searching for purchase. But in the dim lighting, I struggle to find an exit.

“Over there!” Sienna shouts. I glance over my shoulder, see where she is pointing, and miss the next tile. I stumble, almost falling through the floor. Sienna catches my arm and pulls me back up. Together, we close the distance and jump through the open doorway.

I sit there for a few minutes, struggling to catch my breath. Sienna is the first to stand. She scans the room we are in now. It is pretty unremarkable. Bare walls. One window up near the ceiling. A spiral staircase in the middle leading onto the next floor.

“Well, third time’s the charm. Or maybe it was fifth.” I mutter, “This better be the last obstacle.” Sienna is silent, listening, and I do the same.

From somewhere above us comes a faint sound, like some heavy object falling onto the floor. “Did you hear that?” Sienna says, eyes tracing over the room. “I think we should check it out.”

I get on to my feet. My fingers close around a broken umbrella lying on the floor and Sienna holds her red pen out like a sword. Once again, she ascends the staircase first, and I follow, eyes peeled for any signs of life. But there is nothing unexpected, nothing that jumps out at us from nowhere, and the new hall is just as bland as all the other ones. Except that at the end, is a door. And this one -though unmarked and unremarkable- feels right, as if all our answers lie behind it.

In silent agreement, we cautiously approach it, almost back-to-back, like two heroines in some generic Hollywood spy movie. Half the distance is crossed when they drop down from above, clothed in all black, wielding thorny whips. There are only two, but they are significantly better armed than us.

Sienna runs at the nearest one, waving her pen ferociously. They collide, and I am impressed by the force she gives, despite her rival’s advantage. I face my adversary, and put the one combat class I took four years ago to use.

My muscles burn as I finally stand, my opponent lying unconscious on the ground. Whoever it was put up a good fight. I turn. My eyes fall on a small puddle of blood, and the black-clad body it is pooling out of. I walk toward the figure, and lean down.

“They’re still alive, if that’s what your wondering.” Sienna says. I look up to find her encased in a glass box.

A laugh escapes my lips. “How did you get there?”

“Oh, this old thing? To tell you the truth, I accidentally got trapped. But it’s fine, and a lot safer in here.” Sienna has lost her feather wings and halo, but still has the nerve to make jokes. “You go on. Find out what’s behind that door.”

I stare at her in shock. “But what about your career? Your article? Why are you giving up after all we went through?”

“I’m not giving up,” she says, “But you deserve to go after all we have been through tonight. Plus, I still haven’t found a way out of this.” She taps on the box.

I sigh. “See you soon.”

“Good luck!”

I wave, and walk down the hall. At the end, I pause, my hand resting on the doorknob. I glance over my shoulder at Sienna, and she smiles, nods encouragingly. I push open the door.

My eyes land first on the dancing flames, then they travel up toward the domed roof, and the silhouettes of bats fluttering around the chamber and resting on artfully arranged tree branches. This is by far the most interesting room. The walls are covered with strange oddments: aged scrolls, exquisite paintings, and a few elaborate gadgets. In the centre, on a raised dais, is an ornate wood desk, and behind it, shrouded in shadows, a chair. Or maybe throne? My eyes are glued to it.

“Congratulations.” The voice comes from all around me, echoing off the walls. I turn in a circle, trying to locate the source. An evil laugh comes next. The chair turns.

“Who are you?” I shout.

“Already jumping to the questions, I see. You know, few have ever made it this far. You should feel lucky.” At last, I come face-to-face with the notorious owner of Horror Mansion. He is a short, red-skinned man with two curved horns protruding out of his head, and a small black beard.

“Oh WOW! You really are the devil,” I shriek. I reach for the nearest weapon but come up dry. He is laughing again.

“You humans and your silly beliefs.” He says. “Every red being is a devil now?”

I pause. “If you aren’t a devil, then what are you?”

“Only the richest, most powerful man around. And the owner of Horror Mansion.” He gestures at a large pile of money sitting in the corner of the room. “You have reached the end of the game, and so you get one wish.”

“And I have to make one?” I ask.

“Yes. Tonight. Preferably in the next couple minutes. I am a busy man.”

I pace across the room. The devil goes back to his paperwork. My mind races as I struggle to come up with an idea.

At last, I stop. “Let Sienna and I go, and leave this town alone. Forever.” I order.

He sighs. “That is TWO, not one. But, I guess I can make that happen. It’s about time that I move on to another city, get business up high again. Any last words?”

“Thanks.” I smile.

His eyes soften slightly. “No prob.”

***

The sounds of the city are so much louder than those of Esteredge. Sienna drags me around, showing me all her favourite places. It has been a month since we left Horror Mansion, and afterwards, she had published the famous article revealing its secrets, and got her dream job. We don’t really talk about it; Horror Mansion is just one of those things of the past. Though I can’t stop looking back on how I forgot to ask about the other people who made it to the end of Horror Mansion. Another missed opportunity.

But as Sienna and I look at the crowded streets and flashing billboards, all that slips from my mind. Wherever they are, I’m sure they are fine.

And I will be too.