I absolutely could not be happier with the way this Halloween season has been chugging along. I’ve gone to a ton of haunts, from hayrides to trails to church basements, and those are stories reserved for my haunted house journals. However! Seri and I went to one in a lunatic asylum in Weston, WV on Sunday, and then took an optional flashlight tour of the premises afterward, because we figured why not? I mean, our adventures are scary enough (some kind of fucked up shit always happens to us, even when we’re just hanging out at the high school track) but who doesn’t need a little paranormal immersion in their lives. The haunted house portion was a lot of fun—we came out laughing, albeit nervously—but the flashlight tour was definitely creepier. Here are some pictures. And by some I mean so many that I will need to divide them amongst two posts so as not to break the Internet.
The Morgue Tour
There was a guy in a wheelchair taking our tickets. He wouldn’t let me keep the stub as a souvenir!
It was like this:
There was an old lady behind us who made a big fuss about it too. I heard her throw down the word “scrapbooking” at one point. Yeah, she went there.
FA LA LA LA LAAAAAWHEELCHAIRS!!!!!!!!
The morgue tour was super creepy from the get-go because we had to walk outside behind the main building to get to the building the morgue was in. On the way, our guide (a tiny but no-nonsense lady who I’m sure I could have made cross in .0005 seconds flat if I wasn’t so distracted by all the broken glass and the desire to push Seri into a big mud puddle) pointed her flashlight to an area behind the building where there supposedly was once an APPLE TREE THAT SOME PATIENT HUNG HIMSELF ON! You guys, you KNOW how much I love apples and suicide! I mean…apples!
P.S. There’s totally someone looking out of that bottom window.
The hallway where the morgue is located.
Casket! Some imbecilic dumbass had the audacity to call it a coffin, which made our guide flip her shit. I can’t remember her name, but I’m REALLY wanting to call her Sally. She constantly used the word “setting” instead of “sitting.” Who’s the imbecile now.
Morgue cleansing corner!
There was one young guy in our tour that I am positive I made a connection with even though he was there with his girlfriend, whom he even mistook me for at one point! And she was way less fat than me, so I took that as a compliment. Sorry, non-fat Erin lookalike. You can write about how insulted you were another day, because right now it’s my time to shine.
So yeah, this guy. He was like 20. But when we were outside waiting for the tour to start, some broad came over and scolding several of us for commingling on the steps when we should have been standing inside the queue. So there were like 6 of us who had to duck under the queue, just as my new boyfriend and his group of people were entering the line from the back.
“I swear we’re not cutting!” I pleaded, and they all said they knew, but when my new boyfriend got closer, he jokingly sneered, “Line jumper!” at me. I took this to mean he wanted to have all of the sex with me against a haunted hospital urinal.
During the tour, he and I were always the last ones in the group, lingering about and taking pictures. Seri claims she didn’t notice, but I think that’s just because she doesn’t want to choke to death on GUILT the next time she sees Henry.
Anyway, he was wearing a hoodie and a hat. It was too dark to ever really see his face.
The haunted house portion of the asylum, while scary in its own right, was a little disappointing because instead of really utilyzing the natural creepy state of the space, they had most of it covered up
I don’t know what this is.
I kept turning around and taking pictures of the halls behind us. Mostly because I was too scared to keep my back turned on it.
When we were still outside in line, there was a couple standing with us. Maybe they were in their early 30s too, it was hard to tell, but they seemed extremely unoffensive. Until the tour started and the girl-part of the couple went from quiet and mature to obnoxious asshole before the guide even started pointing shit out. We weren’t even out of the lobby yet and it was already photo bomb city. These mothers were in my way in every fucking room, acting all posey-posey for each others cameras in front of the morgue sink, a broken window, an exit sign. THEY WERE GODDAMN EVERYWHERE I WANTED TO TAKE A PICTURE. I could have pointed my camera at Seri’s ass, and that girl would have had a sudden urge to have HER picture taken there, too. And she kept posing like she was at the fucking beach. And she was wearing stupid boots.
And she was just a stupid twat, OK?
I can also tell you that she is a big Heath Ledger fan, because maybe I have big eavesdropping ears and probably not because she told me herself.
There’s one room that’s haunted by a little girl named Lily. Numerous paranormal groups have witnessed her playing with toys and balls in there, but I was too busy wondering how I could steal her baby doll without my soul becoming demon dinner.
I really want to point out that those streaks are probably spirits! But I don’t feel like being a douche today.
My boyfriend and I had another cute little encounter by this door. I did my cute little “You have no idea that I’m really a Black fucking Widow” giggle.
I feel like maybe I missed out on a lot of the historical facts of the morgue tour because I was too busy fixating on my lust for the guy in the hoodie and my hatred for the Photo Bomb Couple of the Year.