
When we set off last week to review a trio of St. Louis’ most infamous haunted houses, we didn’t realize that we were in for such a range of ghoulish experiences. From barking masked men to truly freakish camouflaged chainsaw murderers, we all got our fill of the haunted house scene and had a truly great time in the process. But hopefully, this review will help you to avoid some of the lame and less convincing Halloween fare, and steer you in the right direction for a truly terrifying evening of suspense and horror.
The Asylum
By Laura Vilines
Maybe I should have paid closer attention to the non-existent line outside or the disappointed look on the faces of the patrons, but on Saturday, I na‹vely forked over 14 dollars and excitedly got in the line to enter The Asylum at Lemp Mansion. At first, the haunted house seemed promising; there was a somewhat frightening man bothering us in line, wearing a black mask, and making remarkably realistic barking noises. I felt confident that we were going to have a great time inside. However, upon entering the haunted house, I was almost immediately disappointed. My companions and I were greeted by a string of very unthreatening and poorly-costumed performers who only attempted to startle us for several seconds before disappearing back into their incredibly obvious hiding places. Then, we proceeded through a very long, very dark passageway that I assume was a shabby attempt at a maze. This darkened pathway comprised the majority of the haunted house, and I must say, it’s really too bad that I stopped being afraid of the dark when I was four. Otherwise, I might have been in for a somewhat scary evening. Sadly, the highlight of the trip occurred when a high school-aged performer with green face paint hissed at one of my friends, “Snitch! Snitch! Snitch! Nobody likes it when you give it away.” So, basically, if you have 14 extra dollars this weekend, invest in a couple rolls of Saran Wrap or Duct Tape and hit up Bauhaus; it’s closer, it’s more fun, and I’m willing to bet that the costumes will be scarier than the ones at the Asylum.
Silo-X
By Cody Elam
Silo-X is not a silo, nor is it a “haunted house.” Rather, it is a conglomeration of wooden walls and chain-link fences thrown together with fog machines and semi-haunting music in a remote parking lot. There are several typical haunted house scenes (a crazed doctor in operation, hanging bodies, caged psychos), but most of the area is composed of dimly-lit pathways and flashing lights. Although the atmosphere generally lacked in detail, there was no shortage of face-painted teenage boys who seemed to enjoy jumping out from behind walls and creeping closely behind girls.
The best parts of Silo-X are the mazes in complete darkness-they make you feel okay for running your face flat into walls. After bumping into another screaming group of kids, we followed the obvious “exit” signs back into the light. Silo-X ends in a typical fashion, with a chainsaw-wielding actor dressed in camouflage, drawing his piece dangerously close to passers-by.
Overall, Silo-X is not worth the thirty-minute drive (not including time spent getting lost), long lines, and $14 entrance fee. Most groups seemed to agree, as I overheard one patron at the exit asking, “Is that it?” But if you are looking for a relatively tame way to be spooked, and are willing to brave the cold night air, take your favorite friend along and have fun.
The Darkness
By Matt Simonton and Robbie Gross
The wind was cold and it hit hard as it swept down off the rooftops of the abandoned warehouses of historic Soulard. Undaunted, I braved the 45-minute line and refused to let the screams of the innocents inside break my spirits. Then, like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I ventured into The Darkness. The thick fog from the smoke machines slowly enveloped me, and as I inched my way down the corridor, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of a fiend of unspeakable horror. Cloaked in the guise of a maniacal housewife, the creature was both gruesome in her unkept garments and yet strangely beautiful. I instantly swelled with passion. Yet, before I could find a place in this den of terror to consecrate our monstrous love, the creature turned sour. Letting out a piercing cry, the spectre charged at me with a chainsaw. Startled, I fled from the lovely terror only to discover that further scares were just around the corner. I encountered corpses rotting on slabs, portraits and statues that inexplicably came to life, and labyrinthine passageways, black as a starless night. At every turn, I was spooked by the ghoulish guardians of this Darkness: apparitions with faces the color of the whitest chalk and clothing drenched in blood, whose hideous appearances would likely appall their second-period civics teachers. Oh the terror! Oh The Darkness!