My personal favorite, though, is we did a big tribute for the 35th anniversary of the Charles Manson murders. You wouldn’t believe the shit we pulled for that. That was in ’04, year before the party ended. What happened after that? Well, after we got shut down, we laid lay low for a while. When we reopened as Skull City we decided to tone it down. No more of the really sick stuff.
Here we go, our next room. The graveya-… What’s that? Oh, why’d we get shut down? Look, Big Gulp, I’m not supposed to talk about it. Just want to let it die and be buried. But you and me, we’re a pair of aces. Philthy Phil and Big G. Two of a kind. You knew that right off, didn’t you? Probably knew it before I did. You got that look about ya. The joint’ll give you that look. We recognize our own kind, don’t we?
Here’s the short version, but let’s keep walking. Follow me in here, through the graveyard. Not much to see in this room—mostly just Styrofoam tombstones… OK, we’re almost there. Skull City is close. This is the last hallway. It was back here that they found the bodies back in ’05. What’s that? Yeah, I said bodies. That’s the trouble I’ve been trying to tell you ’bout. Back in ’05—you were still in Somerset I bet—the police come by on a Saturday night. Right before we’re about to open for business. Had a line of folks outside waiting to get in, and these pigs come ’round to ask us some questions.
There was a complaint. Some girl’s mom called. Seems her daughter went out with her friend the night before, but neither of them made it home. Said they were going to the Haunted Castle. Well shit, lots of teenagers do that. And lots of teenagers say they’re doing that and then go somewhere else drinking or to hook up with a boyfriend mom don’t know about. That’s what I tell the police, but the pigs—you know how pigs are. Yeah, I see that smile, you know what I’m saying. What’s that? You’re not smiling? Oh, it must be the black lights. They’re really messing with my eyes tonight.
Anyways, the cops want to check it out, so I give ’em a walkthrough, and not one of them comments on how great the attraction is. They don’t notice the craftsmanship like you did, Big G. They’ve got no sense for art. When we get to the end they want to see the rest of the place. Backstage, they say. When the cops search the panic hallway they find the two girls piled in one of the corners, throats slashed, clothes torn. I don’t even want to get into the details. I’m sure you’ve seen much worse. Someone must have pushed them behind the wall the night before and killed ’em. Sounds to me like a serial killer, I told the cops. Or maybe a jealous boyfriend? I don’t know. Two dead girls are hidden inside a haunted house. You tell me how they got there.
Should’ve seen ’em, Big Gulp. Couldn’t have made ’em better myself if they were props. Those girls were gutted like that corpse in the morgue. Remember that? How real it looked? They were just like that. That’s what got me thinking ’bout things like foam sealant and rubber cement, acrylic paints.
Get this. You’ll appreciate this part. Who do you think they arrest? That’s right. The guy with the record. You vacation in Coal Township for three-to-five and you’re the first one they come after. It’s that joint look, Big G, that’s why you gotta be careful while you’re still on paper. You got that look, and you’re the first one they come for…. Fuck… Sorry ’bout this… I was cleared of all charges, man, but it was… I was sweatin’ it. I just couldn’t go back. I couldn’t handle another term… But me and Jeff, we protect each other. I told you that. I was always better at things like building stuff, and answering questions… Jeff couldn’t have held up under that kind of scrutiny… I had to protect him.
After that, we decided it would be best to take that year off and reopen the next October as Skull City. Toned it down. Don’t let Jeff do character work no more. I told you, the old man beat him stupid. He gets into character, sometimes he can’t get out. Me, right now I’m Dr. Otis B. Grim, but really I’m Philthy Phil. I know the difference. Jeff… he didn’t always know. Like when we went to Hell House, I kept tellin’ him those kids were acting. The chains weren’t real. The born-agains unlocked ’em at the end of the night. He didn’t need to cause that kind of fuss. I tried to stop him before he snatched that kid and ripped the chains from the wall. Security tossed us right out of that joint. It’s OK to chain kids to the wall, but you’re not allowed to do something about it?
But I guess Hell House was too much like our house for Jeff. It struck a nerve. That’s what happened with the Haunted Castle. We kept upping the ante every year—topping ourselves with sicker and sicker shit—until it became too much like home…
#
Are you ready for the best part? Follow me, Big Gulp. It’s just through this door: Skull City! Ta-da! What do you think? Pretty sweet. There’s more than three-hundred skulls in this room. Have you ever seen so many? Metal skulls piled up in that corner, pink ones and black ones. Plastic, ceramic—large, small, broken, intact. Got skulls in here I forget where I got ’em from. Got various rib bones thrown in to fill up the space—made of galvanized wire and plastic tubing. What do you think of the curtains? They’re leather but made to look like human flesh. Did the stitching myself.
Look closer. Take it all in. We’ve got bookshelves filled with skulls, and a mantle. How about that coffee table? Legs are made of bone, actual animal claws for feet. The frame is ringed with femurs. Made it myself… Look, over there. You know those chocolate fountains they have at parties? I modified one of those with two-dozen skulls and filled it with fake blood—a bleeding skull fountain! Who would dream of such a thing? Look over your head. A homemade skull chandelier. Your pal Philthy Phil is an evil genius, ain’t he? Could’ve been an engineer, I tell ya.
Alright. Tour’s over. It’s show time. They’re getting everyone into place, and the doors will open soon. See that? They just dimmed the overhead lights and pumped up the audio. Fog machines will kick on next. Let’s get you into character. Here’s the straitjacket. Hold out your right arm… Now spin around and I’ll work this over the left… Yeah, it’s a little tight, but it’ll stretch… Looking good. No time for makeup. You got that cool-lookin’ scar anyhow. Here’s your pager. Someone starts to flip lid in here, you press this button, alright?
Now hold your feet still… while I… there we go… Come again? What are those? Those are the leg irons… Of course they’re real. We’re first-rate around here… Don’t worry, ya big baby. We’ll unhook you when the show’s over. If those psychos over at Hell House can chain up little kids, we can do it to felons from Community Works.
Well, you’re on your own now. Dr. Otis B. Grim has got to get back to the morgue. Fresh blood awaits, am I right? One last thing, here’s the sledgehammer. When folks come in here, I want you to go crazy. Make as much noise as you can. Struggle. Claw at your leg irons… Yeah, just like that… Don’t be afraid to knock a few skulls around. Remember that hallway that narrowed until you were too far to turn back? This is your chance to fuck with people’s minds the same way. They’ve come this far, now there’s nowhere else to go. The last room. The grand finale. Remember what I told you in the morgue? You’ve got to come out with both barrels. Well, you’ve got to close the same way. These people don’t know about Somerset, Jack. Wouldn’t last the wink of an eye going through what we’ve been through. Think they gave a fuck about you locked up in that cage? They were copping feels in the corn maze, Big G. We were dying, and they were laughing—laughing at people like us.
But now you’re the King of Skull City, and it’s your turn to give it all back. Understand something, these marks ain’t been through the Hell House that we have. Don’t have any clue. Tonight, you show ’em what hell looks like.
You take up that sledgehammer, and you give ’em a taste.
###
About the author:
Vince Darcangelo is an award-winning journalist, author and photographer. Read more of his work at www.vincedarcangelo.com or transgressmag.wordpress.com.
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