Just some stuff I wrote for English. I really posted this for that quest.

As the vehicle pulled up to the fabulous façade of the haunted mansion on that black night of the 12 of October, I couldn’t help but think, “What is it of fear that fascinates man?” I had journeyed to the renowned 13 Floor of Phoenix. I disembark from my vehicle. I scan the area for good measure. In that haunted place one cannot be too careful. I see a serpentine line of humans waiting for their turn to go into the dark mist that they so readily wish to do. The plump orange employees walk around surveying the people. They ask, “Why do you come?” to which the answer typically is, “Why, to get scared! See if the rumors are true; that none can pass through this morbid mansion!” I shuffle over to the end of the serpentine line. I’m herded through the first entrance. When I step inside, I am met with: a pungent aroma; dark, loud, and pulsating music; bleak stone walls; and at the end of this long corridor I meet a cashier. This is the last I will see of the world that I have come to know. I pay and in I go.

Not much changes. I am shuffling slowly through a corridor much like the entrance to this awful place. I round the corner and I see a humped bridge over a small pond. The pond is green, the trees around the area are willows and they seem black and dead. They add a sense of despair to an already heavy feeling. There is a man at the foot of the bridge. He stands motionless, like a scarecrow in the field. I stop. I stare at him for a few brief moments, noting his heavy breathing. He does not move all the while. He remains looking down, as if staring into Hell and asking the Devil what to do. I cannot delay, I must move on whether afraid or not one must brave their way through much. As I step onto the bridge, a loud shout penetrates my ears! “Where do you think you’re going? Abandon all hope if ye is desirous of entering yonder! Ye not have any inkling of what awaits ye!” My pulse continues to pound maddeningly, my eyes remain widened. The scarecrow retracts to his previous state. I must move on.

I go over the bridge, and through the woods, straight into a cemetery. “What could possibly await me here?” I mumble sarcastically. A heavy and thick fog suddenly set in. Cries of the dead, crows of the crow, and shuffling of heavy yet seemingly not whole feet, are all heard. Where can I turn? These are not figments of my tortured soul; I need to move away from the area. I deftly move towards the direction where I believe I saw the way out. Is it really the way out? My intuition knows that they try to trick my folly. I must take that chance. I escape as those awful sounds behind me seem to have congregated where I once stood.

I look up and I realize that there is a large mansion up on a slight slope ahead. The cemetery must have been its pleasant scenic view to its demented lord. I walk up the gorgeously crafted yet demented steps of marble. The demon carvings seem to come alive; they wither and die, then they are reborn out of the ground, with deep red eyes and sharp and gnarled teeth. The door opens ever so slowly. A tall and pale servant now stands in the door way. “Welcome, dear unfortunates, we’ve been expecting you.” He ushers me in. He leaves me in the parlor alone. I stand there beholding what is around me. There are manic paintings on the wall. One seems to come alive. Maggots drop from the gapping maw of her mouth out of painting and unto the floor. “What are you doing in my house?! I don’t like the uninvited!” She moves around the place while talking and she steps on my foot. “I DON’T LIKE TO BE TOUCHED! HOW DARE YOU! OFF WITH YOU!” A trap door opens. I am pushed into an elevator. A bell hop stands near the buttons. “There is only one button! And it leads to hell!” He pushes the button. Suddenly everything goes dark. Only the bell hop seems to be enjoying it since he is cackling. The elevator violently shakes. The cackling stops. Then the elevator stops. The lights come on, and there is a dead face two inches from my face. He smiles dementedly. “Your stop”, he says. I am pulled out. I find myself in another corridor. “What madness is this?” I ask myself. I find that I can only go forward.

The corridor leads on. Eventually the corridor gives off a horrid aroma. There seems to be blood on the floors, not just droplets but, a streaming trail of it. The blood trail leads to double doors. I apprehensively push them open. The sound of saws and cutting flesh fill the air, as well as muffled screams. A sign reads, Asylum. I shuffle on. More doors, I push them open. A so called “operating room” fills my eyes. Two “doctors” yell at me. “What are you doing in this chamber?! You’ll wait your turn detainee. OUT!” They point to a door with bloody hand prints. As I walk out I see terrible x-rays, not of bone, but flesh. The x-rays are as if they are actually pictures of some poor soul that had been skinned and then forced to pose as if in a police lineup. I quickly move out the door hoping to not walk into a room of “post-op” patients. Instead it is another corridor. Loud tortured wails reach me form the other end. I can barely walk forward. My head pounds with the intrusive thoughts of others, thoughts of the dead and tortured. I feel as if darkness is devouring me. Suddenly, as if it never happened, the thoughts stop. I walk forward and see the cell of the Asylum’s detainees. They wail incomprehensibly at me. When I come close to the other end of the corridor I, strangely, do not see a door, just two big, black balloons pressing up against each other. The only way out must be through this strange contraption. I have to force my way through the balloons and then I am out! I see more people waiting in another line for the next attraction. I feel safe, so I smile thinking my horrid ordeal is over. Next thing I know, a crazed man charges at me with a chainsaw. He swipes at me, nearly cutting me in two. He does not raise it at me again. He just stares at me. I walk out the door to the real outside and finally it really is over.