I work as a journalist. Some of you may have heard of me: Howard Coville. I specialize in traveling to locations that attract a certain crowd.
I cater to horror junkies, occult fanatics, hippie spiritualists, and the pagans and neo-pagans. For a long time, I didn’t think too highly of any of them. I saw them as fools, eager to believe whatever cliched myth had built up around an old shack or weird-looking rock. Then I found the funhouse.
When I drove up to it, it didn’t look like much. It was an old building, with two doors: one in front, and the other in back. Here and there, tiny flecks of color suggested it had once been brightly painted, but now the formerly vibrant adornment had peeled and faded to reveal dark brown wood. The remnants of a sign that read “FUNHO” hung by a corner.
The decrepit exterior did not deter me. In my years touring “spiritual” and “occult” destinations, I had seen many such unimpressive places that my readers found fascinating. This was nothing new.
I stepped out of my car, an old Rolls-Royce, and shut the door behind me. The gravel of the parking lot crunched under my leather boots. I strode up to the wooden door at the front of the building. The knob had fallen off at some point in the past and lay, rusting and dusty, in the pebbles to the side.
I took out my flashlight and pushed on the door. It swung open, creaking on the hinges, and I stepped into the darkness inside.
The door swung shut behind me. My flashlight lit up a mirror to my side. Turning, I could see the walls were all mirrored, as was typical in a circus funhouse. I did find it surprising that the mirrors were all intact, given the sad state of the building’s exterior.
I decided I would walk through and write a short piece on the building, making up some “rumor” about a psychotic clown or crazy fortune-teller. There didn’t appear to be anything particularly abnormal or interesting about the place.
After a few minutes, I was surprised I hadn’t come upon the exit yet. The building was not particularly large. The mirror maze could not be very extensive. Yet, after about half an hour, I had not found the exit. I decided to retrace my steps and leave.
After another hour, I knew I was lost. I started to feel like the reflective walls were closing in on me. No matter where I pointed the beam of my flashlight, all that greeted me was my reflection.
Then I saw something. It was on the mirrored wall in front of me. It was not something that belonged in a funhouse maze. Framed in dark brown wood, a portrait inked out in traditional Japanese style showed an Asian noblewoman in a dark orange kimono. Beside it was a placard that read “Lady of the Autumn Leaves. Unknown Artist. 1500s.” What was such a masterpiece doing in a ruined funhouse?
As I walked on, I began to see more artwork. Paintings from different cultures, from different eras, adorned the mirrored walls, until it felt more like I was in an art gallery than a circus attraction.
“I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised. I was not expecting this for our first date.”
I dropped my flashlight, startled. The voice was a woman’s, coming from somewhere ahead.
“You are a man of more refined tastes than I realized.” She laughed, her voice ringing out like a bell.
“Hello? I’m stuck in here! Do you know the way out?” I yelled, hope rising inside me. Maybe she could help me escape!
“You are rather handsome,” she continued, as though I hadn’t made any sound.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” I called out again.
“I particularly like this piece. I have always been fond of the color red.”
My hopes sank. It seemed she could not hear me. Glumly, I continued, catching snippets of her conversation with someone I could not hear.
Then, I saw light. It shone through the outline of a double door. I could hear the roar of a crowd, and as I reached for the doors, it rose to a crescendo of cheers. The door swung open, and I stepped through, squinting in the sudden light.
The room beyond was empty, void of any living creature besides myself. It was a large auditorium. The doors had opened onto the stage. Above me were the prop sun and moon, painted with glitter. Bright spotlights shone on me, and the massive red curtains were pulled back to expose the seats.
There were probably several hundred bright red chairs. As I stepped down from the stage and reached out to touch one, I could feel that it was upholstered in soft, thick fabric. My best guess was satin or velvet.
This theater was fancy and old-fashioned. The banisters were intricately carved and gilded with gold. Gas lamps lit the space. Fancy rugs lined the aisles.
I walked to the door at the back of the theater and pulled it open, then walked through.
I was now in what looked like a store. Glass cases filled with fancy jewelry spread out around me. Diamonds and gems sparkled under the overhead lights.
At the edge of the room, I saw a woman. She was dressed in vintage clothing, with strings of pearls around her neck and a fur shawl. Her brown hair was done up in an elaborate style, and her skirt looked multi-layered.
She looked up and spotted me. “You!” she screeched, rushing at me. She swiped at my face with long nails. I turned just in time to prevent her from scratching my right eye. Instead, I felt the warmth of blood welling up from the scratches she left in my cheek. I yelped and scrambled away.
“Give him back! Give him back!” Eyes wild, she pursued me, knocking over display cases, sending diamonds and pearls rolling across the floor.
I made a beeline for the door, rushed through, and fell flat on my face as gravity seemed to switch directions. I stood, and after realizing my pursuer did not seem to have followed me, I looked around.
The room I was in was filled with books. They lined the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. There was an opening in the shelves that I headed toward.
It soon became apparent that I was in another maze, only made of books instead of mirrors. I soon stopped and decided to take a rest. It seemed a good place to do so. The books were not the most comfortable surface to rest on, but I was suddenly exhausted. Adrenaline spent, I fell into a restless sleep.
I woke to the unexpected sound of the wind howling. I shivered and looked around. I was no longer in the book maze. I was now in a small wooden room with a single door. Through the cracks in the walls came a biting cold.
I opened the door and found myself surrounded by blinding white snow. I hurriedly slammed it again, and looked for another way out. There was none. I did see a scarf and an old-fashioned mens’ coat, with the letters JW monogrammed on the lapel. In the pocket was a pair of gloves. Donning the apparel, I stepped back into the blizzard.
After trudging through the white terrain for about twenty minutes, I could make out the outline of a building ahead of me. As I reached it, I realized it was a winter cabin. I tried the door, and finding it unlocked, I pulled myself through into the warmth of the interior.
It was a four-room cabin, done in a rustic style. There was a bedroom, bathroom, living room and kitchen. Interestingly, every spare surface was covered in colorful glass ornaments and figurines.
I relieved myself in the bathroom, then gratefully ate and drank in kitchen. I was not sure how long I’d been in this odd place.
I went to take a closer look at the figurines. There were a variety of animals and colored orbs. I reached out to touch one.
“Smell him! Smell him!” The shout came from right outside the cabin. I hurriedly hid inside a cabinet and closed the door quietly.
The door burst open, slamming into the wall with a thud. Something loud stomped into the cabin. “Where?” The loud footsteps went into the bedroom.
I made a run for it. I rushed out of the cabin and back into the cold. I tripped and started rolling down a hill. As I crashed into something at the bottom, everything went black.
I opened my eyes to find myself in a large bed. My head throbbed and my arm hurt badly, and as I looked at it, I could see a bone poking through my skin. Grimacing, I took the scarf and wrapped it around my arm tightly, forcing the bone more or less back into place. I then leaned over the side of the bed and vomited.
I jumped down from the bed and looked around. I was in what looked like a little girl’s bedroom. Everything was brightly colored, with a palette dominated by pink, and hearts, bows and frills seemed to be preferred motifs. But everything was overly large. I seemed to be the size of a doll in relation to the furniture.
I left the bedroom and made my way down the hallway to the kitchen. Then I heard the voice from the cabin. “Here! Here!”
I slid under the kitchen table, which was set up for a tea party. I could see the door from my hiding spot. It opened, and two pairs of legs came through. Whoever, whatever, these people were, they were sized in proportion to this dollhouse-like place. Their shoes were frilled and colorful, and their legs were long.
They started searching. I suspected they were looking for me, and it was confirmed when a huge body leaned down and grinned at me with a face caked in makeup. “Found you.”
He reached for me, and I bolted through his legs, making a beeline for the open door.
Outside, the landscape was dotted with giant toys. I ran, but could tell my pursuers were quickly catching up to me. Their massive legs granted them the ability to cover far more distance than I could.
Then I spotted my salvation. It was a hole, just big enough for me to fit through. There was no way these entities could follow me. I scrambled for it, slipping through just as the female being made a grab for me.
The room was dark, but I could hear noise all around. Buzzing and clicking surrounded me. With my good arm, I switched on my flashlight and shrieked. I was surrounded by insects.
Beetles, butterflies and moths covered the walls and floor in an array of colors. Their wings shimmered mesmerizingly in the light. After the initial shock, I calmed, realizing they did not appear interested in me.
I stood, and gingerly stepped around bugs, taking care not to disturb any by touching them. To my right, I could see the light of an open doorway. I headed for it, and exited into a cool breeze.
I was in a garden. Flowers surrounded me. Songbirds chirped and bess buzzed happily among the flowers. It was an idyllic scene, but by this point, I was expecting something awful.
I spotted an empty baby carriage. Like much of the stuff I had witnessed so far, it was vintage thing, white with lace frills. As I approached, I could hear the woman who had attacked earlier sobbing, “My baby! My baby!” Fortunately, I could not see her.
Ahead of me was a wrought-iron gate. I walked through and into the gravel parking lot behind the funhouse. I laughed at the familiar sight of my old Rolls-Royce, and stumbled to the car.
I found out I had been missing for a week. I told the cops I didn’t know what happened. I knew my experience was real, because I was stilling wearing the coat, gloves and scarf when I admitted myself to the hospital with a concussion and a broken arm.
I looked into the history of the funhouse and its owners after my experience.
The story goes that a local girl, Martha Wiltshire, fell in love with foreign businessman Joseph Wilderstein. She was from the upper echelons of society, and he had wealth of his own. The marriage was the talk of the town.
Wilderstein was in the entertainment business, and opened some permanent attractions in his wife’s hometown. Martha publicly stated that her favorite was the mirrored funhouse he constructed.
The couple had a pair of twins, Urich and Eva. But tragedy struck when their third child, Arthur, was abducted from the maternity ward. The police searched dutifully, but this was the early 1900s, and certain scientific advances that would have helped had not yet been made
According to the records I found, Martha Wilderstein, suffering grief (and possibly post-partum depression), went nuts, killed her husband, and fled with the twins. The police never found any trace of her. I think I know where she went. And I don’t think she or her kids are coming back. At least, I hope not.