There are some places that you shouldn’t explore at night. At least not if you don’t want to find out that there are things that go bump in the night. Old abandoned amusement parks seem like they would top the list of places to never go at night, even if you brought a friend.
You’ll never believe what happened to me and my friend at the old Six Flags! (I swear this is real)
Okay, so this is going to sound crazy, but I have to tell someone. Last night, my buddy Alex and I decided to explore the abandoned Six Flags amusement park. You know, the one off Route 9 that’s been closed for like, a decade? Yeah, that one. We’d heard all the rumors – people saying they’d seen weird shadows or heard screams coming from the funhouse. Total urban legend stuff, right? Well, we figured it would be a cool place to mess around and maybe get some creepy pics for Instagram.
We snuck in right around dusk. The place was seriously eerie. Rusted roller coasters loomed against the darkening sky like skeletons, and the wind whistled through the empty stalls and ticket booths. The air smelled like mildew and something… else. Something almost metallic, like blood. It was super quiet, except for the creaking of the Ferris wheel as it turned slowly in the breeze. I swear, it felt like we were being watched.
We made our way deeper into the park, the shadows getting longer and darker around us. We passed the old carousel, its painted horses looking sad and faded. The tilt-a-whirl was covered in graffiti, and the bumper cars were just piles of twisted metal. It was all so freaking creepy, but also kind of exhilarating.
Then we saw the funhouse. It was a massive, lopsided building, all crooked angles and garish colors. Its giant mouth entrance was wide open, beckoning us inside. We exchanged a nervous look, but we were too curious to turn back. We stepped inside…
The funhouse was a whole other level of creepy.
It smelled like stale popcorn and cotton candy, but mixed with something else…
something rotten.
Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like tattered curtains, and the floor was sticky with who-knows-what. The walls were lined with mirrors, all warped and distorted, making us look like grotesque versions of ourselves. It was actually pretty funny at first, and we started taking selfies, laughing at our stretched-out reflections.
But as we went deeper, the funhouse started to get seriously messed up.
The mirrors were all cracked and shattered, revealing glimpses of dark, empty space behind them. Then our flashlights flickering and just died, leaving us in almost complete darkness. We switched up to using the lights on our cell phones, but they barely lit up anything and made the shadows even crazier.
then the noises started. At first, it was just a faint scratching, like something dragging itself across the floor. But then it turned into a low growl, deep and guttural, like a monster from a horror movie.
We started to freak out. Alex was practically begging me to leave, his voice a shaky whisper as he urged me to forget about the noises and get out of there. But curiosity gnawed at me. The growling was getting closer, and some stupid part of me needed to know what was lurking in those shadows. I told Alex I was going to check it out, despite his protests. He called me crazy, but I didn’t care. I was determined to see what was out there.
So, like the complete idiots we were, we split up. I went left, and he went right.
That was our first mistake.
I stumbled through the darkness, my hands outstretched. The air was thick and heavy, like something was breathing down my neck. The growling got louder, closer. Then I saw it – a flash of movement in the darkness. It was huge, a hulking shape with glowing red eyes. It lunged at me, and I screamed, turning and running blindly back the way I’d come.
I could hear it behind me, its claws scraping against the floor, its breath hot on my neck. I tripped and fell, scrambling to my feet just as it reached me. I threw myself to the side, and it crashed into a wall, the impact shaking the whole funhouse. I didn’t wait to see what it would do next. I scrambled to my feet and ran, not stopping until I was outside, gasping for air in the cool night.
But where was Alex?
I burst out of the funhouse exit, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap. My heart was pounding, my legs shaking. I doubled over, gasping for air, the taste of fear thick in my mouth. But the relief was short-lived. I looked around wildly, the panic rising in my throat again.
“Alex!” I shouted, my voice hoarse. “Alex, where are you?”
There was no answer. Just the wind whistling through the skeletal remains of the park.
I stumbled back towards the funhouse, my fear warring with a desperate need to find my friend. I couldn’t just leave him in there, whatever that thing was.
As I approached the entrance, I heard a scream. It was Alex, his voice filled with pure terror. I didn’t hesitate. I plunged back into the darkness, the echoes of his scream ringing in my ears.
Following the sound, I found myself back in the hall of mirrors. Alex was frozen in place, his eyes wide with terror, the light from his cell phone bouncing erratically off the distorted glass. The creature was there, looming over him, its silhouette a grotesque distortion in the fragmented reflections.
“Alex!” I yelled, trying to snap him out of his trance. “We have to go!”
He didn’t respond. I grabbed his arm, yanking him backwards. He stumbled, and I caught him before he fell. The creature roared, the sound echoing through the warped space. It lunged, its claws scraping against the glass.
I dragged Alex behind me, his legs barely moving as we stumbled through the maze.
We reached a dead end.
The creature was closing in, its ragged breathing filling the narrow space. I frantically searched for an escape route, my heart pounding in my chest. Frantic, I caught sight of a little of the moonlight grass outside. There was a small hole in where the plywood had rotted and fallen away. I kicked at it and moved a little. The plywood was held in place by a few rusty nails and despite being half rotten, it didn’t want to move.
I kicked it again and with a groan the gap widened.
“Alex, in here!” I hissed, shoving him towards the opening. He hesitated for a moment, then scrambled towards it. I kicked at the plywood again, loosening it enough for him to squeeze through.
The creature’s growl echoed closer. I followed Alex who was trying to pull the hole open for me. I got my body through, past the protruding nails, and almost had my legs free when a sharp pain seared through my leg. I cried out, yanking my legs the rest of the way through the hole. as the creature’s claws raked down my calf.
We tumbled onto the hard ground, gasping for air. We didn’t stop to check my wound, we just ran. We ran through the deserted park, past the ghostly Ferris wheel and the decaying carousel, until we reached the fence. We stumbled our way towards the exit, my leg throbbing with every movement.
We finally made it back to Alex’s car, our clothes torn, our bodies trembling. I glanced down at my leg. It was a mess, a set of three long gashes were oozing blood. I ripped off a piece of my shirt and tied it around the wound, trying to ignore the pain.
We drove home in silence, the events of the night replaying in my mind. I could still hear the creature’s roar, feel its hot breath on my neck. When I got home, I cleaned up my wound as best I could. It looked bad, but I figured it would heal.
The next day, I told my parents I’d fallen while climbing the fence. They didn’t believe me, but they couldn’t prove otherwise. Alex and I agreed to never speak of what happened that night. But we both knew the truth.
The scars on my leg are a constant reminder of the horror we encountered in that abandoned amusement park. And even though no one believes us, I know we’ll never forget the creature in the funhouse. It’s out there, waiting in the darkness for its next victims.
