As I’m writing this my shoulders are wet, the back of my head has been slightly shaved and I’m recovering from a snake in my face, a dead chicken head pushed against my right cheek and an electric shock running through my left hand.
Yes, I’m home from the 17th Door.
And if you’re one who digs adventure, and loves frights, and relishes Halloween—I strongly urge you to head to Buena Park one of these nights, plunk down the $39 and walk through the (literally) 17 doors into 17 different terrifying/fun/wildly entertaining rooms.
Here, for your entertainment, is the hallway through which one enters and exits …
Seriously, this was my fourth time at the 17th Door. I went with two friends—Mike, who has done all four with me; and Andrea, a rookie. Even with the past experience, shit is legit scary. This isn’t your elementary school haunted house, where a bunch of kids put up some fake spider webs and wear masks. No, this is spinning rooms, dangling animals, grotesque smells, aggressive behaviors, wind gusts and insane asylum bus trips and cold water pours and suffocation.
The immersiveness is top shelf. So is the staging. It’s just an elite haunted house experience; one where no one gets hurt and the laughs even out the cries and you walk away feeling oddly accomplished.
I love it.