“Come on, I’m sure it’ll be fun…”

“I don’t know…” Kamini said. The third-generation Indian teen lay back on her bed, talking on the phone with her boyfriend. “You know I don’t like going to see scary movies very much. I don’t think I’d like going to a haunted house any more then that…”

“Please…” Mark, her boyfriend, begged. “The rest of the gang are all going, so unless we want to spend Halloween by ourselves…”

“That might not be too bad…” Kamini told him. “The two of us over at your place, alone…” She put as much suggestion into that last word as she could.

To her frustration, her boyfriend didn’t seem to take the hint. “Kamini, please. I really want to see this place. Steve took his girlfriend the other day and he says it’s terrific! Look, if it’s too scary for you, I promise I’ll make it up to you. Next weekend we can do whatever you want to do.”

“Well…” The teen pursed her lips, thinking it over. She really didn’t enjoy being surprised or scared, but the promise of getting to take her boyfriend on an all-day shopping spree at the mall was too good to pass up… “Alright. It’s a deal. I’ll see you Halloween evening.”

***  

“Hey!” Kamini said, answering the door a moment after Mark rang the bell. She smiled, enjoying the way his eyes widened. For Halloween, the Indian girl had chosen to dress the part of an Egyptian princess. She had on a dress of pleated white cotton, Egyptian of course, belted at her slender waist with a gold cord and golden sandals. An Egyptian headdress, fashioned from carboard and gold-colored foil, was perched over her shoulder length dark hair, which was braided and pinned back. Some appropriate bracelets, armbands, earrings and necklace completed her outfit.

Mark was dressed his usually slob self, though this time it was on purpose. His flannel shirt was torn and ripped, as were his jeans, both dirtied up and smeared with fake blood. His face had been painted a pale grey, with several fake wounds applied with liberal use of more fake blood to transform him into a rather convincing zombie.

“Hey!” He said, grinning back at her. He nodded over his shoulder. “The others are in the van.” Peering past him, Kamini could see Mark’s old blue van parked in front of her house. Through the windows, she could see the rest of their friends sitting and chatting inside. The two turned and walked back to the van. Mark got into the driver’s seat, while his girlfriend climbed into the front passenger’s seat.

“Happy Halloween!” She said, turning in her seat to the rest of the people in the back.

“Glad you decided to come!” A girl in the middle seat replied. Angela was dressed as an Iberian princess, in a frilly pink dress and tiara. “John didn’t think you were going to come, since you don’t like haunted houses so much…” She nodded to her boyfriend, who was in the seat beside her, dressed as her knight in shining armor.

“We had faith in you, Kami!” A girl called from the back. Cassy and Brittney were sitting together. The two friends had also collaborated on their costumes. Brittney was in a blue gingham dress, her brown hair tied back. A wicker basket was in her lap, a stuffed toy doggie sticking out. From where she was sitting, Kamini couldn’t see if she had on ruby slippers, but thought it likely. Beside her, Cassy had a black dress, pointy hat and broomstick in hand. She’d painted her hands and face a bright green.

Mark started the car up again and drove down the street. It was still early in the evening, the sun was up and there were only a few little kids, their parents hovering protectively over them, out trick-or-treating. The friends chatted excitedly as they drove across town.

“Here we are!” Mark announced, pulling into a parking place. Kamini unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, glancing around. They seemed to be in the warehouse district. The other buildings around were just that. The building in front of them looked like one two, except for the front, which had been covered with a large, decorative façade in the style of a Victorian Mansion. The windows were boarded up, glowing eyes peering between the weather worn slats. In front of it, a small graveyard had been set up, tombstones leaning every which way. Skeletal hands reached up from the shallow dirt, gesturing towards the front door over which was a glowing sign with the haunted house’s name: “The Dungeon”.

“Told you this place would be awesome!” Mark told her. He started towards the front door. Kamini followed him, a little reluctantly. As the group mounted the rickety steps to the front door, there must have been a hidden motion sensor because the ominous doors swung open by themselves, accompanied by a loud creaking and peals of thunder from speakers concealed behind the tombstones.

Just past the doors was a small lobby, keeping the old Victorian aesthetic. Waiting behind a desk shaped like a casket was a woman dressed all in black, complete with a face concealing veil. From behind it, she spoke in a theatrically spooky voice. “Weelcoome, brave mortals to…The Dungeon! Do you dare, tonight of all nights to venture into the dark confines of this evil place, to peel back the comforting veil of civilization and see the darkest deeds that have gone on in the worst pits of sin and evil of mankind?”

Mark’s response was to pull out his credit card. “Six tickets please.”

The woman took the card and quickly scanned it, handing him a receipt and six paper stubs. She stepped out from behind the deck and walked over to an entryway covered by a thick velvet curtain. “This way, then. Step into the darkness and beware…” She pulled the curtain aside, revealing a dark hallway stretching an indeterminate distance away.

Nervously, Kamini followed the rest of the group through. Just as she passed, the woman let the curtain fall closed, plunging the hallway into pitch blackness…  

***  

The group stumbled through the darkness down the hallway. After a few alarming moments, Kamini realized they weren’t in total darkness. Small, red and orange tinted lights ran along the base of the walls on either side of the hallway, giving just enough illumination they weren’t stumbling into the walls, and each other as they progressed.

Overhead, hidden speakers filled the hallways with eerie, unsettling music, atonal and jarring and spooky sound effects. Overhead, there must have been a rail system in the ceiling, hidden in the dim shadows. Strange shades flew by overhead, accompanied by cackling laughs and howls. Lights would occasionally flash evil eyes and demonic faces in the shadows at them. Kamini yelped when something warm and harry brushed past her in the dark. At one point another girl screamed. Kamini thought it might have been Angela but wasn’t certain.

As the group reached the end of the corridor and came around the corridor, the ambient noise changed. Water dripped onto stone. The rattling of chains echoed from the walls. Prisoners groaned and occasionally screamed in pain to the clanking and creaking of infernal devices.  

“Here lies before you the first stop on our tour of nightmares…” A ghostly voice narrated for them. “A short trip back in time to the Middle Ages. Prepare to descend into the dark dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition!”

As the narrator announced this, the group ran into another set of black-out curtains, hiding the room that lay beyond it. Mark stepped through, followed by Cassy and Brittney. Kamini paused for a moment, but hurried forward as John and Angela stepped forward, not wanting to be left all along in the dark hallway.

The room the teens stumbled into was like a scene out of a movie. The walls were made of large stone bricks (or at least plaster textured and painted as stone. Set every few feet along the floor were two rows of iron rods topped with rings. Chains were strung between the rods, forming a pathway through the room, which the guests were supposed to walk along.

Beyond the narrow path, the remaining space had been turned into a dungeon out of some gothic nightmare. Iron braziers stood at the corners of the room, heaped with glowing red coals which gave the only light in the room. Between them were all manner of torture devices, laid out on display.

Close to the door, an iron maiden stood, a heretic shackled inside. With a squeal of hinges, the door swung shut. From inside came a loud cry which dwindled into a low gurgle. Out of the base of the torture device, a flow of liquid, black in the dim light, ran from a slot down a sloped grove to a drain in the stone floor. Across from it, a woman in the tattered habit of a nun was stretched out on the rack. At the nearby brazier, several iron brands slowly heated in the fire to be put to her helpless flesh to wring a confession from the wretched captive.

On the other side of the room, two more maidens, a Spanish Princess and her Moorish lady-in-waiting as the disembodied narrator helpfully explained for the group, were being tortured. The handmaiden was seated high up on the Spanish Horse. The top of the wooden sawhorse was angled to a sharp point, between her legs and studded with blunt iron points all over. The captive’s hands were locked in iron manacles, hung by a chain over her head while her legs were shackled to heavy stone weights which dragged her down even harder against the torture device.

The Princess, meanwhile, was experiencing the torture of the strappedo. Her wrists were likewise shackled, but behind her back. The chains were drawn up with a wench, pulling her arms back and forcing her to bend over or have her shoulders dislocated. Her feet were secured with iron cuffs to rings stapled to the stone floor.

Standing beside either captive were two inquisitors, shrouded in hooded black cloaks. Both had whips in their hands. Kamini realized, unlike the other two prisoners, these weren’t mannequins, but actors. The torturers whipped their victims with quite convincing vigor. Kamini turned her head, cringing as the girls cried out in pain, their screams muffled somewhat by the leather straps between their teeth.

Mark, she noticed, had stopped to watch the show, with evident interest. The two actresses were dressed in white dresses which had ripped open to bare their backs for the whipping. Though they had their backs to the group, it wasn’t hard to see that both were very pretty in a “damsel-in-distress” sort of way.

“Hmph…” Kamini snorted in annoyance. “I can see why Mark wanted to come here so bad…” She thought to herself. Stepping forward, the teen grabbed her boyfriend, and John who was also ogling the captives. “Come on…” She said, dragging them towards the door, followed by Cassy and Brittney, who were looking a little pale with fright.

“Hey…” She said to herself, as they stepped through another veil into a dark hallway like the one they’d come from. “Where’s Angela?” In the dark it was hard to tell, but the teen was sure they were one person short.

“Must have gotten scared and run to the exit.” John said with a shrug. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

The group made their way down the hallway. As before, spooky sound effects, eldritch lights and darting phantasms did their best to create an atmosphere of horror. Kamini, out in front, had a leering skeleton jump out at her, causing the teen to jump in turn. As she made her way down the hallway, behind her, Cassy and Brittney also screamed when they came to the pneumatic monster. The teen heard a brief scuffle of feat, drowned out by more ghostly wailing.

When they came to the end of the hallway, Kamini was startled to find the group down by two more. “Must have chickened out as well…” Kamini thought to herself, feeling strangely pleased with herself for having braved it out longer then her friends, save Mark and John who were eagerly speculating what the next room would hold. As they came to the veiled doorway, they could hear the murmuring of a large crowd, the crackling of torches and someone praying in old English.

“Welcome…” The narrator told them as they stepped through the curtains. “To the Salem Witch Trials…”

This room was larger than the one they’d come from, and the walls had been covered in matte paintings of a New England village with a night sky overhead, to give the illusion they were standing in the center of a large village. Lights in the walls and ceiling, giving the illusion of lit windows and stars overhead, combined with the dimness of the room in general, helped sell the illusion.

The path through this room was lined with dozens of mannequins, dressed in puritan black, forming a crowd. Over the shoulders of the angry mob, Kamini could see an accused witch strapped to the dunking stool, a scold’s bridle locked around her head, about to be tested for witchcraft.

Evidently, she must have failed the test. A little further on, the witch stood on the gallows, a figure in a black hood beside her, his hand on the lever. As the three walked past, the lever was pulled and the unlucky woman dropped, the rope snapping her to a sudden stop.

Further along, two more witches, clad in black dresses and hats had been lashed to the stake with stout ropes, bundles of wood piled around their feet. They were actresses, not mannequins. They squirmed in mock terror, struggling against the ropes as another actor stepped forward with a burning torch and thrust it into the pile. Smoke rose from the bundles, orange glows flickered amongst the sticks, promising the blaze to come as speakers added a realistic crackling of fire.

The trio watched for another minute before turning to the next doorway. Kamini walked through, now eager to get through the rest of this haunted house, hook up with the other girls and get out of here. Mark and John followed her, reluctantly.

Kamini walked through the dark hallway, waiting for something to jump out and surprise her. The teen wasn’t surprised when, from out of the darkness, unseen hands reached out and grabbed her. She was startled, however, when instead of clutching her for a moment and letting her run, the hands held firm, with a tight grip.

She started to struggle for a brief moment as she was pulled back into a pitch-black portal. As she was, her senses were overwhelmed with an odd smell, cloying and hypnotic. Immediately, her head began to swoon. Just in front of her, Mark and John stepped through the veil into the hallway. The two walked past Kamini, not seeing her struggles just a few feet away. She opened her mouth, trying to call out to them, but her voice was weak, overpowered by the ghostly wailing and rattling of chains that filled with haunted house. As the two kept walking, disappearing from view, everything went black…

“ugh…” Kamini slowly began to stir. “Oh my god…did I faint?” The teen thought as she struggled to recall what had happened. She tried to rise, only to find some odd pressure holding her in place. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her legs pinned together, both held in place by what felt like tightly wrapped bands of cloth.

With rising panic, Kamini opened her eyes. The teen was in what appeared to be an Egyptian tomb. The close stone walls were decorated from sandy floor to low stone ceiling with a mosaic of hieroglyphics. A few, flickering electric torches lit some of the room, and threw the rest into sharp shadows.

The teen herself was lying on top of a large stone table, though squirming around she could tell it was wood painted and textured. Standing over the prone girl was a statue, or maybe a mannequin of a man dressed in a white kilt and a large mask shaped in the dark face of a jackal.

“Mmmppphhh!” Kamini grunted, struggling to rise. She was still dressed in her Halloween costume, but someone had apparently added to it, wrapping wide linen bandages around her legs, from her ankles up above her knees, and her torso and arms. More bandages over the lower half of her face, muffling her confused cries for help.

“Welcome to the Land of the Pharaohs…” A ghostly voice suddenly spoke, causing Kamini to whimper in surprise. “Five thousand years ago, the bodies of Royalty and Priests were preserved through mummification after death, wrapped in bandages and placed in tombs to be preserved for all time…”

As the narrator spoke, Kamini heard footsteps coming closer. A moment later, Mark and John stepped into view. The teen squirmed and struggled, but the two didn’t seem to notice or recognize her.

“On rare occasions, they didn’t bother waiting for death. For her blasphemes against the gods, this priestess has been sentenced to be wrapped in funeral bandages and entombed alive beneath the desert sands…” As the narrator said this, the statue beside Kamini suddenly came to life. Her eyes widened in shock as the figure bent over, taking up more bandages and continued the process of wrapping the struggling teen up.

“This can’t be happening!” Kamini thought to herself. She’d somehow become part of the haunted house’s exhibit. Helplessly, the teen squirmed around. As she shook her head, whimpering into her gag, she noticed the sarcophagus, sitting on the ground in front of the table, open waiting for her to be placed inside. She screamed in fear, but the man continued his work, wrapping his helpless captive up.

Nearby, Mark and John watched, with gleeful interest. “MMMrrrkk!” Kamini grunted into her gag, as loud as she could. “Mmmrrrkkk!!! Hllllpppp!!!” Her boyfriend didn’t seem to notice, except to enjoy the show she was putting on as the bandages reached her chest. Over half her body was now fully wrapped in multiple layers of tight, blinging bandages.

Her neck was wrapped, then another layer over her mouth, muffling the captive’s cries ever further. A single layer was wrapped over Kamini’s nose. To her relief, the cloth was thin enough she could breathe in enough stale, musty air to keep from suffocating. Just before the bandages covered her eyes, Kamini looked at Mark one last time, wide with fear, begging him for some help. Mark grinned, winking at his girlfriend. A second later, the Egyptian priest pulled the first layer over her eyes, plunging the teen into darkness. She moaned in terror as he quickly wrapped the rest of her head, securing the cloth at the top to ensure she remained tightly wrapped up and helpless.

The teen whimpered quietly into the still darkness that surrounded her now. She felt hands grabbing her lifting her from the table. She was lowered what felt like yards, until she could feel the tight walls of the sarcophagus close around her, limiting the captive’s already narrow range of movement. From somewhere close by, muffled by the layers of cloth covering her head, she heard Mark and John talking, discussing what a great Haunted House this was. Then, the lid of the coffin was set into place and everything went dark and still…

***  

Mark stepped through the final doorway, emerging into a cool, star-lit night. He took a deep breath of fresh air after the musty smells of the haunted hour. Behind him, John also came out, grinning.

“Well, how did you boys enjoy the tour?” A man said, coming around the corner.

“Amazing!” Mark said with a grin, nodding to the man who had suggested the come. He was also the one who suggested inviting Kamini and the other girls as well.

“Thank you. We do our best to please.” The man replied, reaching into his jacket. From inside, he pulled out two envelops and handed them to the two teens. “Your finder’s fee for our newest employees.” Mark grinned, feeling the bulge inside the envelop as he pocketed it.

“How much longer will you be open?” He asked.

“Probably another two or three days. We’ve got some other groups coming.” The man told him with a sly grin. “After that, we’re breaking this down until next October, so if you want to see the house again, better do it before then.”

“And what happens to the…employees, when you close down?” John asked. Mark nodded, thinking of Kamini, probably still wrapped up inside the fake coffin back in the building, and the other girls as well.

“They’ll be shipped out when we close up. We’ve got plans for them elsewhere.” The man told them. His tone told the two it would be a bad idea to ask any further questions. Mark grabbed John and steered his friend back towards the parking lot and the car. As they walked away, the owner waved.

“See you boys next Halloween!”