Nightmare Read Free

voice was distant, as if coming from somewhere else in the building, yet it was undeniably
directed at us as it slowly intoned, "You ... don't ... belong ...
here. "
    I heard my two companions holding their breath as a pair
of red pinpoint lights appeared in the middle of the room and fixed on each of us in turn, disembodied eyes sizing the three
of us up.

    I glanced to my left and saw in the darkness that Angela and
Jill had sidestepped instinctively toward each other for safety.
    The deep, throaty voice spoke again, louder this time, as the
two eye-lights burned brighter in intensity. "GET... OUT...
OF... THIS ... PLACE!"
    A door across the room leading farther into the building was
flung open with a bang, and without waiting to be told again, Jill
and Angela fled the kitchen to enter the next room. I hesitated,
appraising the two red lights, which had fixed on me now and,
remarkably, followed me as I walked toward the next room.
    It was a nifty effect.
    Inside the next room, the kitchen door behind me shut itself
silently this time. Angela and Jill were practically hugging each
other in the small dining room of the house, around which were
six chairs. And in each one of the chairs sat what I assumed
were holographic projections of ghostly figures. The clothes or
rags they wore billowed and flowed around them as if they were
underwater, and the figures themselves gave off a slightly bluish
glow, the only light in the room.
    The figures were incredibly detailed and three-dimensional,
but my opinion of the ride's quality plummeted at the sight. Real
apparitions never looked anything like this. These "ghosts" were
pure Hollywood magic.
    My companions were far more convinced than I was. Especially when the spirit at the head of the table, an elderly man with
craggy fingers and clothes that hung from his bones, turned and
locked his sunken eyes directly on to Jill. His eyes were filled with
hate, and seemed to pierce right through whatever remaining courage Jill was holding on to. His gaze grew in intensity and
vitriol until Jill inexplicably shouted, "I'm sorry!"

    I still have no idea what Jill was apologizing for, but I knew at
the time that it was a knee-jerk response to somethingJill found
terrifying. The "spirit" looked down on her as if she lived in a
gutter, judgment and fury burning in his eyes. The expression
was a bit chilling, I had to admit.
    The old-man apparition bared his teeth, which were broken
and black, to her and opened his mouth wider and wider until
it went far past the point at which a human mouth could be
opened. It grew bigger and longer, and ever so slowly, he rose
from his place at the table and started gliding across the floor
toward her.
    Jill's hand reached out and grasped Angela's just as Angela
was about to slide away, leaving Jill on her own. As the old man
came closer to her, but never moving at more than a snail's pace,
the other five apparitions at the table rose from their seats and
began inching toward both Jill and Angela.
    Angela screamed as the old man came close enough to touch
her, and suddenly everything went dark and a cold gust of wind
blew through the room, whipping up all around us.
    I was starting to understand why this place was so popular. But nothing I'd experienced had brought me remotely close
to feeling fear. It was all extremely well done, using advanced
technologies to astounding effect. But it was too perfect, too
scripted down to the last detail, to elicit the desired response.
At least from me.
    I knew better.

    After a bathroom, a brief detour into the basement where
numerous things jumped out at us, and a bedroom, where the
bed and all the furniture hung from the ceiling, we entered a
long, narrow hallway. The house's power attempted to surge to
life, but managed only halfhearted blinks and flickers before
going out completely. Once all was quiet, something resembling
a guttural growl filled the hall, and it began to