Ever been to an escape room before?

It’s just too bad that my first one happened to be a horror-themed nightmare.

LITERALLY. I THINK I SUFFERED A MINOR HEART ATTACK.

You see, when I was invited to a friend’s birthday party with promises of a fun time at a horror-themed-but-hopefully-not-that-intense escape room, I was ecstatic. Why? I LOVE HORROR. It’s my all-time favorite genre, and I specially love narrating horror stories. The briefing was fun enough, with mentions of padlocks, walkie-talkies, emergency buttons and an exciting albeit frightening experience. Obviously, I wasn’t fazed, or I think the adrenaline just made me throw caution to the winds.

Yeah, definitely the adrenaline.

ANYWAYS, BACK TO MY HIGHLY-EXAGERRATED RECOUNT OF THE EVENTS THAT TRANSPIRED.

Ahem.

Gosh, I’m still struck speechless. The ever-present stinging in the crevasses of my tonsils are a constant reminder and a warning.

The moment I sneaked a glance at that doll drawn in crude chalk on that black wall, with crosses for its eyes and a noose circling its neck, I nearly lost my nerve. But I plucked up my courage, FOR I HAD TO STAY STRONG.

Also, the website stated, “not scary”.

Hilarious.

To my chagrin, we were split into two groups, with a door separating us. We were blindfolded and led into the hungry darkness, housing god-knows-what. A flashlight was pressed into my hand, and guess what? I was in the group that suffered restricted movement, so first, I had to fight to get free of the handcuffs that bound me to the bloodstained bed and barred cupboards.

The moment we heard the door slam and a padlock click, I pulled off the blindfold, looked at my friends, and screamed.

THERE WAS A DOLL SITTING BESIDE ME AND ONE ON THE CUPBOARD AND THE ROOM HAD “KEEP OUT” EVERYWHERE AND THERE WAS ONE STARING AT ME AND I WAS DESPERATELY TRYING TO JOKE AROUND BUT IT REALLY DIDN’T WORK-

*intense gasping*

Did I mention I absolutely despise dolls now?

Anyways, my peers on the other side of the door began narrating in time with an individual from our side, reading off a faded scroll. I still remember bits and pieces of it…

“Hello, hello, players. I am Agatha.

For centuries now, the Doll Master has been trapping poor souls and taking them captive, turning them into dolls to remain here for all eternity. I escaped his vicious clutches a while back. I wish I could help you, but he watches my every move. To escape, you must find the five dolls, or he’ll turn you into one of them!

I’m sorry! Good luck!”

*commence extended screaming at the sound of a balloon popping*

Once our opposites passed us the key to the handcuffs, they obtained from popping a balloon, we had to complete a wire maze with the still, watchful stares of said dolls. I jumped at every sound, until finally we were re-united with the others as the door swung open.

I’m obviously not going to give you spoilers, just a few details…

😉

The booking form should come with a “DANGER” sign on it…

Whatever.

We unlocked the many padlocks on different cupboards, finding a diary documenting the five creepy dolls. They each had a story more gruesome than the last. We opened a cabinet, and out jumped one of them with sewn eyes and a missing nose.

REALLY?

We screamed loud enough to wake the dead.

Once THAT was over, we noticed a number painted on the glass case. Taking it in mind, we continued discovering more clues and discovering a way out. It was quite engaging and interesting, housing directional padlocks, standard locks, keys, mazes, invisible ink, blue light, and alarm lights.

Trust me, when you’re with talking dolls, a flashing red light DOES NOT HELP.

THEY WERE TALKING.

I’m writing this right now and wondering if there’s someone watching me. Horror has a strange way of bringing up old emotions, doesn’t it? It’s so creepy, I can FEEL A DOLL. THIS IS TRAUMATIZING.

BACK TO MY RECOUNT, THEY WERE TALKING, WHSITLING AND SINGING.

At one point, this childish voice came over the speaker, whistling a nursery rhyme. Then it began talking, in those melodies you can hear on “Creeped Out”. There were loud bangs, flickering lights, and scratching.

THIS ROOM IS CURSED.

“La la la la la la…

HELP ! HE’S GOING TO TAKE ME!

YOU MUST HURRY, OR HE’LL COME FOR YOU TOO!”

Not very reassuring, is it…

AND AT THAT MOMENT, A PLANK FELL, ON IT ENGRAVED THE WORDS…

“You’re running out of time…”

Or it might have been…

“I’m coming for you…”

WHATEVER IT WAS, IT WAS SINGEING MY NERVE ENDS AND FREEZING MY BLOOD.

And then(we had an hour to escape, and this was one of the escape rooms with the lowest escape rates), SOMEONE POPPED IN WITH A MASK ON, ADVANCED ON US AND DISAPPEARED.

THE LOOK OF TERROR ON MY FACE, AS I WAS THE CLOSEST, WOULD MAKE ME LAUGH NOW BUT THEN, I YELLED MY HEART OUT, NEARLY DRIVING MYSELF HOARSE.

My friends turned and stayed rooted to the spot, and I simply stared at the floor.

Ding! The timer hit the 1-minute mark, startling me, and shaking me out of my reverie. It began counting down.

YOU DON’T COUNT DOWN, IT AMPLIFIES PRESSURE.

I swear, I can relive the moment as I’m narrating it right now. It was heart stopping, and we escaped with the skins of our teeth.

Me: GUYS, ONE MINUTE, ONE MINUTE!

Friend 1: WAIT, I’VE GOT THE LAST DOLL! THE NUMBER’S 1, IT’S 1!

Friend 2: GO PUT IT IN THE PADLOCK. I DON’T’ WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IF WE DON’T ESCAPE!

Imagine your heart beating like a drumroll.

Imagine turning the numbers in stilted anticipation as everyone watches your every move, and the timer ticks down…30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25, 24…

You input the last few numbers, and it doesn’t open. You jiggle it in frustration and switch the last two numbers.

23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18…

Me: I’M DONE, I’M DONE!

*pushes open the door, sees light, and nearly collapses in relief*

17 SECONDS, CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’VE ESCAPED.

Yeah, we escaped in the nick of time.

My heartbeat slowed as we drowned each other out in a clamour of voices, and I regained my ability to speak without shaking. Of course, now we acted like we were best friends with the dolls.

It was something that would remain imprinted in my mind. BUT IT WAS FUN, NO MATTER HOW GRAVELY I’VE JUST NARRATED THE SITUATION.

Of course, you can simply come on over to experience it yourself!

I’m warning you though, you may never again be able to see a Barbie doll again without envisioning it headless.

Moral of the story:

Never trust the websites.

Signing off…