Scared shitless.... more please??

What is it, about being scared shitless, that we all love? Obviously, I'm not talking about our every day lives, but more films or roleplay scenarios. All the crazy fucked up ideas you see in films being methodically and graphically played out infront of you in the name of entertainment conjured up by some strange, unstable and normally paedo looking Director *Tarantino springs to mind, but he is God of movies so we'll let it go*. I'm a bugger for watching horrors, thrillers and some films that I can only categorize as *superbly sick and fucked up*. In the latter category I have films like Human Centipede I & II, Itchi the Killer and pretty much any Freddie Krueger stuff. Freddie haunts me tenfold. Even now, when I'm all grown up, I still can't face him. Over the last few years I have tried to confront my fear of Krueger, and my last attempt caused me to mow down an old geezer.

We decided to go to an amusement park some 30 miles away. We'd never been there before and I remember walking into the reception area and being hit with the scent of candyfloss and toffee apples, if I close my eyes now, I can still smell it and it takes me back to my little girl days when such parks were the epitome of awesomesauce. I can see myself now, all sticky handed from the floss and no amount of licking is removing the offending tooth destroying concoction, waiting for my turn on the 'Hungry Caterpillar' which, by the way, is a bit fuckin fast. Even at 32 y/o :P

Wandering around this park, we came across what was aptly called 'The Passage of Terror'. I'd seen these before, infact I'd been 'in' one before. Let me explain what The Passage of Terror entails.

Basically, it's a huge building with around 10 different rooms in, all connected by one slim line corridor. It weaves like a snake and due to the layout of the building there is only one way in.... and one way out. You have to go through every single room to reach the exit. During your 'stay' here, you meet and interact with actors who are playing different characters from horror movies. Doesn't sound so bad huh? WRONG!

In the queue, I'm feeding off the buzz and excitement of fellow freaks, silently pleased that I had worn my New Rocks and not some ridiculous 4 inch heels when I was rudely interrupted by a thump on the floor. I look up to the door we were waiting at to see a 5ft dude dressed in full monk garb with a staff that I can only imagine Gandalf would wank over. Wide eyed, I listen to him rambling on, praying for us it seemed, bit far fetched but I'm rolling with it. He segregates us, ceremoniously, into groups of 6, choosing a 'Leader' to head the group through this Hell house. He warns us of 3 things, 3 things only.

1. Never, ever run.

2. You cannot turn back

3. Things will not touch you, if you do not touch them.

Number 1 I was fine with, I'll be screwed if I have to run anywhere unless it's for Ian Somerhalder's undies. Number 2, Yeah, no worries bro.

Number 3. Wtf? I'm wanting a defiition of 'things' at this point. If something's gonna touch me, no no spot or not, I wanna know wtf 'it' is. I refrain from asking, since amidst my contemplating of this issue I've managed to catch the weird monk's eye, and he's twinkling it at me, kinda like the old nasty witch does before she gives Snow White that bad ass apple. Promptly I put my ass in the middle of the group against my better judgement, (watch Human Centipede for my reasoning) and holding onto my hubby's sleeve, we enter.

First room was huge and along side the left was some cemetary surrounded by iron clad railings. It's all spooky with fog, music and cobweb shit that stuck to my hands, yeah *hangs head* from the floss and all seems well; until chainsaw massacre dude comes screaming the fuck outta nowhere with a chainsaw that looked horrifically real. The usual squeals came out of most of us chicks, but hey, it's a ride, of sorts, right? I'm a bit confident at this point, dick move on my part and it would become apparent. Next room is really tight, small and compact with around 12 body bags hanging from the ceiling. And it was here, at this point, that I thought GDI, this is a bit freakin un-nerving. Knowing that there had to be someone in one of these bags, not knowing which one since they're all swaying, and you have to side swipe the fuckers to get by. I'm just not impressed and co-ordinated myself in a way that I could be covered by my fellow commrades thus, creating a human shield from all angles. I learnt some skills from the likes of Laserquest and Quaser!! Bracing myself, I'm tight in the middle of my amazing human shield, eyes shut and tip toeing, coz like, that matters in the dark, but nothing. No heart clutching holy shit freak outs, nothing. Just silence. Little tricksters!

Entering the following room I'm a bit on edge but some of my courage has returned and I see the Exorcist chick writhing on her bed. She's making all these groaning noises, wildly thrashing around, which oddly reminded me of myself when I faked my first orgasm in 1994. Ya, I remember the date, just... appalling. With our backs to the walls, we skirt around her bed, not once did I take my eyes off that bitch. I was almost ready for the bed propelling and her being shot up screaming some demonic message but it still made me jump, and laugh. Hey this wasn't turning out so bad afterall.

The following few rooms were pretty good. Usual baddies lurking, eery sound effects but I did notice that it was getting a lot darker, a real lot, to the point where you could barely see which direction to take. During the outbursts in the previous rooms, our 'Leader' appeared to be somewhere at the back of this super cool crew but we pressed on regardless, with me in second place. Hubby stops, dead. ''Um, honey?''  Yep? ''If ever there was a time that you should go to your happy place and not totally freak out, it would be right about now, k? ok? Hon? You with me hon?''  I'm sooo not fuckin 'with him' not by a long chalk because during his brief pause, I've managed to sneak a look ahead and the sight that beheld me was what my nightmares were made of.

One long, narrow path, no way out, no alternative route, just this path that led to the burning fiery furnace. I swear my heart stopped, panic stricken I'm trying to cope with the irrational fear that has literally gripped my entire body. My feet wont move, no matter what I try. I am not over indulging here, I was 100% absolutely terrified for my life. Somewhere along the way in this Hell hole, I'd ignored the fact that this wasnt actually real, it was just a game, and now I was about to seal my doom. Hyperventilating I'm trying to tell the husband I simply cannot carry on, before old wise one reminds me of the monk's words and his 3 rules. FML.

Darkness engulfs us. Pitch black before a red light flickers on, calculatingly, at the end of the corridor once more. Stood infront of that damn furnace was the man that had literally violated and disturbed me for years, swaying like a crazed mad man running his knife edged fingers along the rails. I shit you not, I think I nearly almost just about died from heart failure. I wanna go back, seriously no fucking about now, I'm done.  Finished. I don't care what you have to do to get me the hell out of here, just do it. My ultimations were gently denied by the other half who was quite clearly fighting the urge to piss himself laughing at me but he knows me, he knows when I'm really spazzed out and he knows this is one of those times. He does his man glory bit and grips my hands tightly around his waist and hides me as best as possible. We proceed. I swear Freddie could smell my fear. You read about that shit, I knew that he knew that I was hiding but I silently prayed, by the Grace of Almighty God, please leave me the fuck alone. I swore there and then that I'd never ever pick bark off trees and throw it at old people ever again, I swore blind that I would never ever see if our family hamster could withstand the suction of my new cyclone hoover throught the bars on his cage and I most definitely promised to never ever laugh at kids getting battered at supermarket check outs if he just let me pass quietly.

Sneaking past him, I thought I was home dry. Was I really that lucky? Sweating like a rapist through pure fear and although we were just about past him, I lost it. I just freakin lost it. Panic was on override and I ran like a world athlete praying that I'd keep my footing in this ridiculously, fucked up dark place. He clocks me, Freddie clocks me running like a gazelle, he gives chase. I'm screaming in terror, and it's pure terror. I've often wondered about how my screams would sound in this kind of scenario, the only word I can use to describe the sound is... guttural? I'm almost into the next room and if my previous calculations were right, Freddie would not cross into the next room. I'd made it. I turned to face him, and even though my legs were shaking and my heart was suffering severe palpitations, I smugly grinned at the fucker. During my awesome feeling of triumph, I realised Freddie is smiling right back at me. It was one of those all knowing smiles, the ones that say 'Think you won bitch, do you? DO YOU? Turn around babycakes'   

Hey little girl, wanna see some puppies?!

I did turn around, and felt some relief to see an illuminated EXIT sign. Thank fuck for that, the hammer horror is over. I make a break for it, at mach speed, whilst I'm yelling over my shoulder to my husband, who's just managed to catch up "Baby, it's an Exit, an Exit, hallelujah!!"   and I hear him saying something back but I can't catch his words, it sounded like "Noooooooooooooooooooo"  I look back whilst continuing my momentum forward and see he's shouting at me to stop. Fuck that, I'm out, and as I turn to face the way I'm going, I'm abruptly stopped and flung against a wall. Stabbing a knife into the wall directly at the side of my head is Jason. Mask and boiler suit and distinct heavy breathing. It's possible that I almost wee'd myself, and my screaming had took on a whole new pitch. Just screaming in his face, relentlessly, I was so shocked I couldn't formulate any coherent thought. I shoved him with all my weight off me, enough to propel him into the oncoming somewhat amused fellow crew members and leapt for the EXIT door. I'm screaming so hard, and running so fast that I literally fly through the door, to be met by the brightest sun and blistering heat and I can't see shit, but no way am I stopping, chicks die in movies by stopping, stupid chicks. 

At ultimate speed with severe cavegirl hair and a mouth as dry as a nun's foofoo I collide with a little old man who probably weighed around 7 stone piss wet through. He's down, and I still can't see properly, my eyes were taking an eternity to adjust. Finally, my vision returns and around me are tourists enjoying a nice cup of tea and buns in little cafes purposely built at the end for extreme comedy value, totally amused at my 'dismount' from this ride. I hear one guy laughing so hard and shouting ''Man, we heard you screaming all the way through that girl, hahahahahha" I fight the urge to walk over there and just knock the wanker out and instead help the old geezer up who I've just almost killed. He's ok, he's well hard. 

I'd say for the following 2 hours I was so shaky and chastised myself for voluntarily going through that, I made the decision there and then to never go in anything remotely like that again. But now summer approaches and this amusement park is on our list of places to go. Deep down lives a fear of this experience but I can't help but wonder, once I'm at the park, will I change my mind? It's likely I will, but why? What is it about us humans that we feel it necessary to endure such fear, for lols?

All I know is that I'm going armed, I will observe my 5 P's Rule. Mace and a taser gun will adorn my amazing utility belt alongside full kevlar armour. If I'm going down, I'm taking the bastards with me.

Need to go watch some My Little Pony to pull me out of reliving this nightmare.

Ciao

Raven xoxo