Fremont Haunt

Where there is no imagination there is no horror.
-- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Tuesday, October 30, 2001
One year ago: Greenwood Dance
Three years ago: Costume Party

I gave Jack's daughter H---- the choice: would she rather carve jack-o-lanterns, or go to the haunt of Fremont? She chose the haunted house, so off we all went after dinner.

I'd heard about this place from an email from my friend Luke. He was supposed to be working at the haunt at least part of the time, but I wasn't sure if he'd be there this evening. I'd also forgotten to make a note of the exact location, but I figured it would be obvious. Of course, it was cold and rainy, and dark, which made the haunt location harder to find. Jack didn't complain too much as we wandered around the Fremont neighborhood. They've really been doing a lot of contstruction! Fortunately we found the Fremont Unconventional Center, which had a poster for the Haunt. We made a note of the address, and walked on. We heard some girlish screams, which made H--- jump! We knew we were headed in the right direction.

The poster, and the signs we occasionally saw, said "Under the Red Door" but I wasn't certain what that meant. Finally we turned the corner and all became clear; the old tavern that had been a Fremont landmark had been moved a block away from its old location. They actually moved the building! (I usually get local news from the local NPR station, but I must have missed this story.)

We walked around another corner and found the entrance to the Haunt, inside the new parking garage under the old building. Jack became very dubious about the whole thing. Crowds and roaring voices echoing around make him uncomfortable (remember his similar reaction at the Southcenter Mall Food Court recently?). I told him I'd be fine with him waiting for us outside, or in the tavern upstairs, but he stayed in line with us, only taking one short breather outside.

H--- was very excited, and got herself more rev'd up by the minute. We probably waited in line for about an hour. Near us in line was a mom with a boy around ten, and a middle-aged couple. Finally we were at the front, paying for our admission (H--- qualified as a youth still), then being admitted.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *    *

The first chamber was mostly bare. A staff member gave us important safety tips, then we watched a video of a poor schmoe in a straitjacket, talking about the "history" of the site. It was clever how they combined real history (Native Americans, loggers, speakeasies) with fictitious horrific events. Lots of short shots, almost subliminal, of fake skulls and horrible faces.

Then we were directed downstairs to a maze. I don't know if having the entrance and exit be the same stairwell was a good idea, but it probably couldn't be helped. We wandered at random through halls draped with dark cloth, viewing horrid sights and being startled. A few of the scenes were a bit hokey, and a few of the actors had trouble staying in character, but most were good. I was impressed with a hall that had sound effects tied to light beams -- it was like a light harp. I wasn't really a fan of the plaques on the walls apparently made from disemboweled rats -- too plasticky.

When it seemed that we'd seen it all, we went back to the staircase where we had to wait until the lower floor chamber was ready for us. We got instructions from the staff member -- "Walk quickly into the center of the room. Don't RUN!"

It was pitch black, indeed. (You don't actually see much pitch around, these days.) H--- and I both held on to Jack. When a strobe light flashed on every ten or fifteen seconds, we could make out mysterious masked, armless figures moving around us. I heard another man with us shout "catch them!" which would have been fun. It was shocking to find the mysterious ones close to us when the lights would flash -- an automatic jolt.

Finally the lights came on and a masked figure directed us to a further door. We walked into -- the scariest place of all: the gift shop! I was surprised to see that, besides the requisite t-shirts, there was a table of gifts from the Love Pantry, on of the Haunt's sponsors. "No worries, folks," said the supervisor, "all items are g-rated!" It was mostly glitter gel or glow-in-the-dark handcuffs. We didn't buy anything.

When we wanted to go up the stairs to the outside, the supervisor held us back for a minute. "We had a spill earlier; I want to make sure it's all cleaned up," he said, before speaking on his small radio. Finally he let us go. (This haunt isn't handicap-accessible.) When we exited through a door to the outside, suddenly there was a terrible roaring noise! Someone came running from behind us with a chain saw -- I ducked down. H--- took off like a cheetah, running down the street at top speed. So much for making sure your family members are ok! Jack and I told her she should try out for the track team. The funniest part was that this happened to her two years ago at the haunted house, too!