The Murder House

I dream I awaken on the floor of a garage on the edge of a seashore amusement park. My brother and I look for an attraction called "The Murder House," a dark ride that you can only find by going through laundry rooms and maintenance areas until you come across a creaky old service elevator made of dark, rotting wooden slats. Other people seem to know of the ride, too, and we all go onto this elevator and press "down." The elevator descends to a frightening, awful level filled with wailing demons who reach through the wooden slats and fondle us. The demons are genuine, and I am so scared that my brother promises to sue the amusement park for me.

   
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