Oct 25, 2002 By Angie Santello For The 8 min read

On a cold, wet October night, my fianc’ and I could feel our hearts pounding and our palms sweating as we anticipated the fear that would control our minds and bodies during a horrifying Halloween journey. As we waited for our friends to arrive in the vehicle that would take us to the haunted attraction, we discussed the possibilities of new and grotesque creatures that could send chills running down our spines.

These terrifying discussions of the grim and horrifying sites that we could encounter slowly built the suspense of our arrival at our final frightening destinations – the fearsome field, the manic maze and the hair-raising house.

We boarded the wagon with our feet hanging over the side and were quickly whisked away, making numerous turns and twists through a grassy field. Traveling through eerie silence, we began to wonder where the ghouls were hiding.

But our wait didn’t take long. Shortly after the wagon made a wide turn, the bushes rustled, and we could hear the loud roaring sound of a chain saw.

Shocking everyone taking the haunted tour, a demonic man armed with a chain saw rushed the wagon, causing screams of panic.

His arrival from behind the small bush was totally unexpected.

As we journeyed further into the depths of the field, we passed a reservoir eerily lighted with green, blue and white lights, and a hillbilly’s rickety home where a shotgun blast panicked us all.

The vast, shadowy mansion on the horizon drew closer.

Knowing that the ancient relic was where our hayride journey would end, yet where the nightmare would begin, riders shifted in their seats. Their eyes widened, their grasps tightened and their teeth chattered. Nervous talk among the riders continuously stopped and started as the wagon climbed a small hill and maneuvered around a ditch on the side of the muddy road.

The last few alarming sites passed by hay wagon riders as the mansion grew fearfully larger, and lights lining the pathway were brought into focus as we neared. A truck and trailer, both toppled onto its side, lie deserted in the field. But, to our horror, a small, stuffed person was pinned underneath.

Poor souls with stakes stabbed through their midsections hung on posts. Slowly, the sky faded from grayish-purple to black. No stars were visible in the October sky. But the blackness disappeared as we were transported to the red and white glow of lights lining the driveway of the mansion.

Hopping off the wagon, we heard the harsh, gurgling, tortured voice of a ghoul. Standing before the lamppost-lined entranceway, the ghoul shouted out the rules of the haunted tour. “No touching, smoking or harassing the characters,” the ghoul shouted. Knowing the rules, we were anxious to begin the tour.

A goblin met us, suddenly jumping and yelling from behind the corner of a building located on the outside grounds of the house. Afraid to move on and no longer wanting to play the brave role of the leader, I shoved my fianc’ in front of my path.

Next, we walked together as we agreed to compromise. We traveled side-by-side down the dark depths of a long tunnel. In what seemed like a never-ending walk, I realized that I could not visibly see my hand in front of my face. Calling out to my fianc’, I looked in his direction. What I saw instead was the white face of a human monster walking directly by my side. I jumped, shouted and then ran, after scrambling for my fianc’s hand on the other side of me.

Running down the remaining length of the tunnel, I could finally see light. We found the rest of the visiting crowd waiting to enter the next disconcerting part of our tour – the twisting, turning maze where I heard it is easy to become lost.

After making it through the maze with my unrivaled sense of direction, my fianc’ and I passed through a cemetery, which is home to zombie creatures. We crossed a bridge framed by cloaked spooks and came upon a farmer’s shed, which heralded the entrance to the dreaded mansion.

A lady dressed in white stood at the mansion gate, warning us of our passing. Gathering my nerve and redirecting my flirting attention, I boldly walked up the steps of the house and opened the creaky door.

Pitch black met my eyes as I automatically flung out both of my arms to find my balance. Heart pounding and palms sweating, I precariously continued on through the corridor, not knowing what I would encounter next.

Ghosts, ghouls and monsters startled us both as they jumped out of dark corners, peered through openings in the wall and followed along beside us, grimacing horribly down at us.

We also met popular characters such as “Beetlejuice” from the movie of the same name. Flanked by two doors reading “Heaven” and “Hell,” he offered us the trip of our choice. Although our group unanimously agreed to choose heaven, we were sent straight into the murky depths of hell. We coaxed a brave soul in our group to open the door.

During our alarming visit to hell, we encountered the devil, silhouetted by a background of red fire, as we crossed a seemingly burning bridge. “Come here, my pretty,” he called out, popping his head over the bridge rail, blocking my path. “No!” I screamed and ran to catch up to the group, glancing behind me one more time to make sure I did not have any demonic followers.

High-wooden towers raised to the sky invited our climb up the spiral steps leading to the top. Crossing an outside bridge, with the rain pouring in sheets, I turned my head, hearing a scream. I gawked at a black-haired woman stranded at the tower’s highest point, desperately pleading for help. I yearned to tell her to jump from the railing, wanting to assure her that the people in our group would not fail to catch her.

But suddenly, this heroic thought was burst by the sharp voice of a sinister-looking fright, who demanded that we keep our distance and go on our way. Risking the chance of myself becoming locked within the tower walls, I chanced to move on my way.

Knowing that the seemingly never-ending tour would soon be coming to an end, I decided to grab my fianc’ and slow our pace, greedy for more terrifying sights. It proved to be a good decision on my part. The last few spooks hiding in the darkness jumped and shouted from the shadows when we least expected it, filling both of us with fright.

The stories of the exiting tunnel proved true. With dizzying accuracy, a shower of flames encircled us, spinning and spinning, until we made the quick decision to run out into the chilly night air before our cheese fries and hot chocolate came tumbling out of a hole.

Believing our haunted tour was over, we excitedly began chit-chatting about the adventures we just endured. My fianc’ and I began our walk on foot back to the festival area, through a row of cornstalks slightly blowing from the mild breeze.

We left muddy prints on the footpath behind us.

I suddenly realized that anyone, including a weary traveler armed with a chainsaw, could trace our path in order to hunt down the visitors they lost.

Attempting to put a halt to my wild imagination, I focused ahead where I saw a small, white hay shed.

Its roof sheltered us from the air and provided solace until I realized that a woman farmer stood a few feet from us, blocking our way to the festival.

The sight made me suddenly stop, rushing my senses and filling me all over again with fear. My fianc’ grabbed the sleeve of my coat, coaxing me to continue.

“Did you follow all the rules?” she asked us in a loud, strong voice from the distance.

We drew closer as I meekly replied “yes” in the friendliest tone I could manage.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you go since you sound pretty convincing,” she said. I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief.

Grabbing my fianc’s hand, I bounced the rest of the way up the path.

With the horror gone and the happiness restored, I realized that the fright, now transformed into relief, provided me with a true energy rush, which is desperately needed on occasion as a change of pace from the life’s normal routine.

Turning around and waving goodbye, I whispered into the cold, wind-swept field that I would see it and the terrifying mystery it holds again soon – maybe on Halloween, or how about tomorrow?