Thread: Callie and the Haunt: A Halloween Tale

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A horror tale written by me in celebration of one of my favorite things, haunted walkthrough attractions. Of course, one should watch out around Halloween in case your friends might be secret witches with their own ideas of how to celebrate...

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It was just starting to get dark as Callie pulled her car down the dusty roadway and into the roped off employee lot. She steered the beat up little compact car into a free space, gravel and leaves crunching under the wheels. With a click of the key, the Dead Kennedy's were silenced mid-song and replaced by the idle pings and clacks as the car's engine cooled down. The pale girl blew on her palms and rubbed them together briskly, bracing herself for the cold air outside. Her hood was pulled over dark black hair, cut in a Bettie Page style bob. Tonight was going to be extra busy due to it being the last weekend, and the 31st to boot: she only hoped the Halloween crowds wouldn't mean her shift was a complete pain in the ass. She swung open the car door and forced herself to rise quickly, snatched up her worn backpack as she did so and slammed the door shut before heading across the parking lot. Combat boots crunched over dead leaves and kicked strewn branches aside as she walked. She shivered gently, then burrowed further into her hooded sweatshirt and buried hands in her pockets. It would be warm inside at least, she thought to herself. The girl carried a little extra padding due to an addiction to spiced rum and Nutrageous candy bars, but a small beer gut didn't help her out that much with the cold regardless.

Skeletal trees with bare branches framed the building housing the haunt attraction. Callie picked up the pace, eager to get inside now and start getting ready for her performance shift. The main trouble with fall out in the sticks, she thought, was how insanely cold it could be. She liked the scent of the decaying leaves and the crisp air, and of course the ever present smell of pumpkin flesh being singed by flames: but the way the wind seemed to sweep right through her clothing (and even bones) she could really do without. She paused to stamp her feet before hurrying along, and was waved to hurry up by her friend Janine who was working the ticket booth. By now, she was in sight of the entrance to the haunt. The same family had been running it for ten years at this point, and it had grown quite impressive with each passing season.

A wrought-iron fence outside the ticket booth surrounded a graveyard, weathered stones sharing space with bones poking out of the dark earth. Rocks and sticks were scattered about and fake moss draped over the stones. One looking over the names on the headstones might notice a trend in appreciation of both literary and film-world horror icons: The Hessian Horseman, Poppy Z. Brite, George Romero, Jeordie Verril, Mina Harker, and many others. The ticketing booth itself was fashioned to look like a wooden coffin-lid nailed to the front of a shack. The usual rules were displayed on a rather garish orange sign: no photography, no cell phones, no touching of the actors or props, people with allergies to fog machines or strobe lights stay out. Once past the switch-back waiting area, guests would enter one of two doors. The greeter for tonight, a bone-thin rockabilly type named Scott, was shivering lightly and trying to concentrate on secreting a slim iPod in one jeans pocket. He looked up briefly as Callie passed, and nodded to her with a little smirk.

The gothic-styled girl nodded back quickly and selected the door on the left, pushing it open and stepping into the first room of the haunt. Absently, she walked along the wooden plank pathway over the simulated bayou scene. A thin layer of water covered the black plastic garbage bag-lined floor, and the ambient soundtrack of croaking frogs was already turned on. None of the animatronics were powered up yet, however, and she made her way past the partially-submerged giant alligator and the gnarled, twisted corpse that would lunge out of a hollow tree trunk. Inside the central shack structure, that night's "voodoo priestess" performer was lounging, her make-up half completed. She waved to Callie as the girl passed by, then thumbed through a worn Bradbury novel as she reclined against a tall wooden cabinet filled with glass potions and ingredient jars (all containing odd bunches of herbs, animal bones, or handcrafted little gruesome props). Hurrying a little, Callie passed out of the swamp shack into a connecting passageway lined with cement sculpted bones and skulls that led to the next scene: the Victorian mortuary.

The tall girl strode through the open doors into the cramped first room of the mortuary scenes. A open coffin on a stand contained a partially gutted rubber corpse, and decayed flowers were scattered about the room in urns. She proceed into the next room, a cramped hallway leading past sinister looking Victorian photographs of stern individuals. During operating hours a few of these slid down with ease, allowing a masked actor to pop out and menace customers. The next area was the main show scene of the mortuary: the morgue. Antique exam tables filled the space at angles, piles of fake rubber guts in the corners and vintage surgical diagrams on the walls. A few faux corpses were on display, the rest of the tables empty and awaiting performers. Through a simulated broken-in window, she walked briskly through the outdoor cemetery scene, disinterred rotting corpses poking out of the ground and dead tree branches overhead, a soundtrack of eerie wind and owls hooting playing over the sound system while carved fake marble statues stared blindly as she passed.

At last she passed between two tall fake trees with gnarled, evil faces carved into them and into her scene for the night. Just as she entered, she heard the telltale electric hum off to her right and a fog machine kicked on. The stream of smoke spread along the floor and slowly rose amongst the cement-and-rebar trees that framed the clearing. Smiling, Callie gave a little wave to her co-workers. Hannah was seated on a fake tree stump, halfway into her witch costume of a sweeping hooded cape and corset top: however, she still was wearing jeans and tennis shoes instead of her flowing rose-and-thorn patterned skirt bottom. Minerva leaned against the wall, her athletic frame draped in fake moss and long sticklike gloves on her hands. Her face was painted a mixture of black and green to allow her to blend in with the trees and scare guests more effectively.

"Hey guys, good to see we are all are in here tonight!", Callie spoke to her friends. "I didn't want to be stuck further on in the torture chamber, those cages suck."

"You got that right, Callie", chimed in Hannah. The redhead was pleasant and warm looking mostly, easy going, and so her performance of snarling and acting generally demented usually caught customers off guard. She knew how to deliver and get some good scares as well as how to interact with her "victim", the role Callie would be playing that night. Minerva also nodded in agreement before speaking up:

"You girls ready to do this crap? We can get some good scares, I think. But you two have it easy, I have to do all the lurking and popping out…"

"Oh, you", Callie laughed softly in response. "Like you mind getting all the scares, Nev. I know you asked for it special….you just like to bitch about it." In response, the toned girl stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes at the goth lass, before both started openly giggling at the silliness of the response.

"How much time till we open?", enquired Callie once they both had settled down. Hannah pushed back the sleeve of her hooded cloak to check, and muttered "Damn!" before responding there was ten minutes to go before guests would be let in. She scurried off to change her pants, and Callie quickly removed her sweatshirt and stashed it in her backpack. Her outfit for the evening was simple: a peasant style dress and country-style bandana over her hair, as if she was some farm girl the evil witch had kidnapped. She took a quick swig of water and wolfed a granola bar, then began hunting about for the small step-ladder she needed. Finally locating it, she dragged it over to the giant, real-looking stone cauldron in the center of the room and climbed inside carefully. She had to be careful, stepping on the simulated logs at the base which glowed red and crackled via fiber-optics would not be good as they'd certainly break easily. Once in the cauldron, she called out to Minerva, who was currently moving about trying to find the best hiding place amongst the fake trees.

"Hey, Nev, come help me out here?". The disguised girl nodded and came over, took the small length of rope from Callie and tied her offered wrists (a bit tightly Callie thought, but not uncomfortable), then hauled the step-ladder away again and hid it. "How do I look?", enquired the pale girl, striking a pose in the large stone cauldron: tied hands before her and look of simulated terror on her face.

"Like a witch's dinner, of course, isn't that the idea?", Minerva retorted and smirked, then poked the girl's stomach teasingly, causing Callie to squirm a little . The two exchanged a look then, fleetingly: the girl in the cauldron could have sworn her friend was gazing at her with something like desire, or hunger. At that moment however, Hannah re-entered the room and the moment passed. She had finally changed into her costume fully. A hood was pulled over her face and her red hair framed pale skin, a pair of purple contact lenses with catlike slits in her eyes. She quickly downed a can of Coke she had procured from somewhere, and stuffed the empty can into Callie's backpack before she hid it at the back of the room, behind a pile of leaves.

"It's showtime, ladies…let's rock this!", she called out to laughter from her two friends, but they nodded: all three were primed to go. Minerva twined her way between two trees and amongst hanging moss, rendering her pretty much invisible if someone didn't know where to look. Hannah hefted a large wooden paddle with a Styrofoam skull attached to the end, and Callie sunk down inside the heavy cauldron, head and shoulders poking up above the rim. As all three readied themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Jansen (the owners) walked through on their final check before admitting the first patrons. After declaring everything satisfactory, they were gone to the next scene (the cursed Egyptian tomb).

About 45 seconds later, the fluorescent work lights switched off and the show lighting kicked in: eerie reds and greens that highlighted the slowly accumulating fog, and the shifting simulated firelight of the plastic logs under the cauldron. The ambient soundtrack was turned on as well, eerie night bird calls and the sounds of flapping wings and thunder in the distance. Hearing the tromp of approaching feet in the skull-lined hallway, Hannah crept close to the entrance. Her face twisted in a demented grin, and as the first group of teenagers entered the scene she wasted no time in booming, "COME TO VISIT MY FOREST, DEARIES?" and then cackled insanely as Callie writhed in the stewpot, begging to be rescued and Minerva silently circled around between two likely-looking girls who already were huddled in together, shaking.

The evening's performance went smoothly indeed, with the three friends hitting their stride and working well together. As the lead witch, Hannah was delightfully over the top and loony, managing to make people unsettled by sheer force of exuberance. Callie would plead with the guests as they got near and the redhead pretended to stir her about in the pot, begging them to rescue her, or get out unless they wanted to be dinner themselves. This set them up nicely for Minerva, who would pop up behind them as they neared the cauldron with an animalistic snarl or cry of "I want your flesh, humans!" right in the ear of the nearest victim. Sometimes they varied it, with the foliage-disguised woman moving to draw attention and Hannah sneaking up behind a victim to cackle "In the pot with you, I'm starving!" or to slam her stir spoon on the ground suddenly. Together, the three girls got more than one person to leave the scene at a run, or to stop altogether and cower as the performers taunted them.

The hours flew by quicker than they were expecting, and before they knew it the last group of startled teenagers was fleeing their room. Hannah exhaled loudly, once, and took a seat on one of the tree stumps and began to idly massage her lower legs. Just as Minerva was crossing to help Callie out of the pot, the owners once more came through.

"Good job tonight, ladies", Mrs. Jansen offered with a grin. "On the security cam, you could tell you all really were getting some good scares…nicely done. You all can pack up and head out whenever you like, we're gonna clear the rest of the rooms and lock up the front, the back will be open. I think the bayou and morgue crowd already headed out, something about getting a drink" With a nod, the two owners moved on into the darkened corridor away from the forest scene.

As soon as they were gone, Hannah smiled at Minerva, and waggled a finger at the girl who had resumed reaching in to help Callie climb out.

"Naughty naughty, did you forget about our plans? Leave her in there." At these words, Callie had to do a double take: what was her friend talking about?

"Come on, Nev, get me out of here….", the dark-haired girl asked simply, shifting her wrists. "I seriously have to stand up, my legs are numb." Hannah smirked, but ignored the girl as she spoke, instead addressing Minerva.

"Go on and get cleaned up, then grab the supplies: you remember where we stashed them behind that stretcher in the mortuary scene? I'll get her ready…I'm starving." Confused, Callie looked from the tall girl leaving the room to her red-haired friend.

"What is going on, Hannah? This isn't funny, get me out of here. I am starting to cramp up." The dark-haired girl struggled slightly, trying to push herself up using her tied wrists and numb legs (and not meeting with very much success). Her friend crossed to her, and gently touched her lips with one finger even as she lightly pushed Callie back down.

"Shhh, dear, relax….I am afraid I can't help you out, but I promise, soon, you won't mind." The redhead grinned down at the confused goth lass and lightly stroked her cheek. "We're just going to have a little fun to celebrate the holiday, you know. It is the night when spirits are free to roam the earth, of course, you know all that lore. But it also is a nice excuse for a very special sort of meal, in honor of the wandering dead. You know, some believe offerings must be made to appease any visiting, spectral wraiths: but truthfully, mostly I just want to eat you up. The whole 'whooo spirits of the undead' thing is just a nice little bonus reason to celebrate."

At those words, Callie just stared, stunned. Her friend had just stated right out in the open about wanting to eat her, with a straight face. What the hell? Surely this had to be some sort of crazy ass Halloween prank, she wouldn't put that above Hannah. The girl had a strange sense of humor sometimes. Just as she was opening her mouth to comment back, Minerva re-entered the fake forest scene. She had changed out of the simulated trees-and-leaves outfit, and was now wearing black jeans and absurdly, a black cloak type top with a hood. She was carrying a large cardboard box with one arm, and gripping a bundle of firewood by the knotted rope tied at the top. With an exhale of relief, she set down the wood and handed the box over to Hannah.

"Here we go, I think I got everything we need, love. You ready to start the feast?". Listening, Callie's heart was pounding in her ears, and she was trying desperately to make sense of this. This could not be happening, no way. She still suspected it was some elaborate joke, and was trying to force her mind not to wander down the track of thinking her co-workers could actually be serious about cooking her in a ridiculous prop cauldron in a haunted house attraction. Even as she decided this had to be a trick, Hannah approached her as Minerva unpacked the box. The redhead smiled softly and cupped Callie's chin, distracting her for a moment: until the goth girl's eyes alighted on the small switchblade that lay open in Hannah's hand.

"What…no…don't!", was all Callie got out, before Hannah gripped her hair to hold her still. The small blade flashed carefully but swiftly as the witch-costumed girl cut her friend's clothes off, then fished them out of the deep cauldron. Callie was scared of being cut and tried her best to stay still, full panic setting in now. This was going too far: she was forced to think maybe she really was intended to be dinner, as crazy as that seemed. She met Minerva's eyes, not noticing what was being unpacked from the box she had carried in.

"Please, Nev, make her stop…the joke isn't funny anymore, you can't seriously be wanting to…", her voice trailed off in dismay as she saw the cold, half-listening expression on her friend's face. Minerva merely shook her head once, and responded softly:

"I am sorry, Callie, but I want this just as much as Hannah. I like you but this is going to happen regardless of anything you say: we will be feasting tonight." At those words, the bound, now naked girl saw what was being unpacked at the athletic girl's feet: a wide array of whole and chopped vegetables, seasonings, several gallons of bottled mineral water. Stew makings. Callie uttered a low, dismayed moan: she knew what was coming and didn't like it at all. Sure enough, Minerva started stacking the wood around the base of the cauldron, moving aside the prop logs to do so. Once done, she and Hannah began pouring the water into the cauldron till it just touched the top of her stomach. She floated up and down, gently, pleading with her friends to let her go until Minerva lightly pulled her head back and Hannah inserted the golden, crisp apple into her friend's protesting mouth then duct taped it in place. That done, the wood at the base of the prop cauldron was lit and carefully tended, water starting to heat up.

As she struggled uselessly, bobbing slightly in the water filled cauldron, Callie fought against panic. Her last conscious thoughts before losing all sense of self and reality to sheer mental chaos was how it felt to be the intended meal for a couple of modern-day witches she had counted as friends. Maybe she was intended as a sacrifice to some poorly-understood dark netherworld entities, or maybe they just wanted to eat her, pure and simple. Her friends began adding vegetables and prodded the meat girl gently with the large wooden spoon, anticipating the feast to come on that Halloween night.

Very good story. The words brought immages to my mind. I really liked it.