Dr Steins Haunted House

Marcus Brakner tapped his foot impatiently as he waited, deeply regretting his choice of a cheap Dracula costume as his outfit for the night, feeling the ice cold chill of an October evening test the flimsy fabric's limits. His teeth were just on the verge of chattering as he pulled his phone from his pocket, flicking his pale thumb across the screen, letting out a soft sigh as the illuminated display showed him the time.

Slipping it back into his pocket, he continued to pace along the length of the black, vine covered wrought iron fencing, just hoping he wouldn't have to wait out in the bitter cold any longer. He took another look towards the crooked manor that had become so familiar to him over the years, then looked back out to the street as a pack of trick or treaters passed by with their hauls, waiting for any sign of his mom.

'Dr Stein's Haunted House' was an attraction well known to Marcus's town, a place where everyone had a fond memory of passing through its ghostly halls at some point in their lives, whether as a parent, or as a child. First opened in the mid-seventies, the manor had been transformed from the home of one of the former owners of a local furniture manufacturer into a house of horrors, complete with a number of jump scares intended to send even the most steadfast attendees fleeing. However, Marcus had only known it as being a building that boasted an ever declining condition, having suffered from a lack of care as its ownership was passed from owner to owner.

For Marcus, it was a staple of his family's Halloween calendar, the one location his parents always brought him and his siblings to each year during October without fail. For as long as he could remember, the old haunted house had been a feature of his family's Halloween celebrations, a place they made sure to include during their door to door vacuuming of foil-wrapped candy from local neighbourhoods.

As he grew older, his natural need to branch out and forge his own interests became far more prominent, with trick or treating being left to the wayside once he made it into high school. Occasionally, he would slink off to whatever house party was being held by one of his more cocky classmates when their parents were away. His parents also found their own alternative once everyone had grown out of the more childish elements of Halloween, with them attending the annual 'All Hallows Ball' held at the town hall, a purely adult-only event. After the visit to the aged attraction, his mother and father would return home to get changed, slipping themselves into their own costumes for the party, ones that Marcus had never actually seen in person.

Even as the family became more fragmented over the years during the October build-up, especially once Marcus's sisters and brother left home, there was always time to fit in a visit to the old manor at least once.

But at eighteen, the youngest of his siblings, Marcus was the last to make his transition into college, still inexperienced in the navigation of the many rituals and relationships that came with life on the college campus. Once the autumn break came around, he was the only one who opted to return home to celebrate the Halloween period with his parents, with his sisters and brother favouring the countless parties and all out bashes that would be hosted by the fraternities and sororities of their respective colleges.

However, his parents recent divorce made it incredibly difficult to try and capture the nostalgic experience he sought. His mom and dad did their best to make things easier, but dividing his time between the two of them for the duration of his break only served to distract him from what was one of his favourite holiday. For the first time, Marcus questioned whether the very last link to his family's old Halloween routine would be left in the past.

Fortunately, Marcus's mother was just as willing to keep up the old routine, even if it was just for one last year. With the arrangements made for them to both make their own way to the manor and traverse the old musty halls before going their separate ways, with Marcus himself having made plans to meet up with a small group of friends who were back in town for the week, the pair just waited for the days on the calendar to be crossed off.

Marcus smirked as he spotted a small convoy pass by, with a set of convertibles occupied by the seniors at his old high school, along with a number of cheerleaders perched along the rim of the open top, all dressed in zombified renditions of their usual school clothes. As the final car drove by, headed on its way towards one of the blow-out parties that the football team had become famous for hosting, Marcus caught sight of a figure emerging from the shadows of the parking lot opposite.

Marcus couldn't stop himself from staring at the distinctly feminine figure as it approached, still yet to be properly illuminated by any of the badly maintained streetlights that ran parallel with the pothole laden road. From what he could see, she wore a shimmering black and purple mini dress, which had a frilly skirt that flared out, reaching just halfway down her thighs, with a mock version of a bustle at the rear. He noticed that her long, toned legs were encased in a pair of dark stockings that possessed a web-like pattern along the tops, his eyes were drawn to a pair of silver stilettos that added just an extra amount of definition to her already eye-catching legs. A mane of long, curly blonde hair fell across her shoulders, highlighting the scandalous plunge in her costume's neckline.

The occupants of the final car to pass by shared the same feelings that Marcus had, with their wolf whistles and cat calls echoing in the distance, earning a number of glares from the parents walking hand in hand with their costumed children making their way to their next candy hotspot. They were only encouraged further as the blonde shot a wink their way, waving as they disappeared around the corner.

He rose up slightly once she was walking directly towards him, puffing out his chest as he felt the blood travelling towards his groin. But once her face finally caught the cone of yellow light from the lamp above, he felt a wave of shame for his wandering eyes crashing over him in an instant.

"M-mom?" Marcus stuttered, catching sight of the familiar soft features belonging to Catherine Brakner. He noticed how her carefully applied make-up enhanced her features, with a red blush accentuating her regal cheekbones and a metallic purple lipstick that caused her pouty lips to shine in the light. Though she was just reaching forty two, Marcus couldn't help but admit that she would have given most of the girls on his college campus a run for their money.

Catherine beamed as she held her arms out, pivoting to show off the rest of the outfit that had clearly come at some expense. "Uh-huh, vat do you vink?" she asked, putting on her best Bela Lugosi impression, enhancing the effecf when her prosthetic fangs caught the light.

"It's...definitely not what I was expecting," Marcus admitted, holding back the indecent thoughts that had passed through his mind before the identity of the costume's wearer had been revealed.

"It's a little more daring compared to what I would normally wear," Catherine admitted, smoothing the velvet materiel covering her stomach, "but I'm not old enough to start having to dress up like an old crone just yet. Usually I'll wear something that would match your father's costume, but given that I'm going to be making a solo appearance at the town hall I figured that I would follow your theme. So, I went with the Bride of Dracula, if that's alright?"

"Er, yeah, I guess. It looks great on you," Marcus replied, suddenly regretting having cheaped out on his own costume, especially when it became apparent just how much effort his mother had put into hers. "The jocks definitely seemed to enjoy it."

His mother smirked innocently, giving him a dismissive wave as she walked towards the cracked stone stairs leading to the front door of the decrepit manor. "Did they? I wouldn't look into that too much, a group of drunk football players will take just one look at a good pair of legs and immediately wonder how they can go about getting between them. Are you ready to head inside?"

Marcus nodded, skipping up the steps behind his mother. When they arrived at the top step, they were met with a glowing neon sign that simply read 'Dr Stein's', though it was clear that the years of consistent use had left its mark, with barely half of the tubes managing to light up. Catherine grabbed the gargoyle shaped knocker and gave it one sudden strike, flashing the same whimsical look at Marcus that she had always done whenever the time came to pay a visit to the old manor.

It took a few seconds before the lock could be heard clicking open from the other side. The door was pulled open in a jerky motion and the hinges whined as their decades without lubricant worsened their stiffened condition. Expecting to be met with the typically elaborately made-up host, the pair were instead met with the the sight of a particularly bored teenager, likely just months behind Marcus of age, dressed in an ill-fitting beige trench coat and a bald cap that did a poor job of hiding his messy brown hair.

"Here for the tour?" he asked, in a tone that suggested to the pair that he would have much preferred to have been glued to his phone rather than acting as the host for the decades-old attraction. He perked up slightly once his eyes landed on Catherine, doing a poor job of disguising his gaze as it feasted on her extravagant body.

"Yes!" Catherine replied with a chipper smile, giving her son a lopsided smirk as he bristled at the sight of the host checking out his mother. "Are we the only ones at the moment? It's usually quite packed."

The host shrugged, quickly devolving back into his unconcerned demeanour. "Most of the families came here earlier, I guess they just wanted to get it out of the way so they could start going door to door. Want to get started?"

"Absolutely, it wouldn't be a true Halloween night without a quick tour of the old place," Catherine stated, providing the door frame with an affectionate pat, pulling it away as flaking paint came away with only the slightest touch, "lead away, Dr. Stein!"

"Alright," the teenage host replied dispassionately, pulling down a massive switch downwards, which produced a flickering light to simulate the look of sparks and lightning.

As the mother and son crossed the threshold, the decades-old attraction sprang to life and a row of recently added LED torches grew to life, illuminating the narrow hall ahead. Only taking a few steps across the old wooden floor, Marcus heard the concerning sounds of the flooring groaning heavily with each step. He was sure his mother had heard it too, leading her to be more careful where she planted her feet, not wanting to risk getting one of her impossibly thin heels caught between the gaps between the floor boards.

They dutifully followed the unenthusiastic host from door to door, visiting each room to see the 'horrific' sights that lay behind every door. But Marcus couldn't quite shake off the feeling of how rehearsed it all felt, the path they took had never deviated from the days when he was barely knee high, nor did the individual themes of each of the rooms. It lacked the dread and the haunting mystique it had once provided him in his youth.

They slipped inside the main dining hall located at the very rear of the building, which was dominated by a large table that ran from end to end, occupied by a number of dust coated plastic dummies, each of which had been decorated to depict a certain demise. The dummy at the very head of the table sat with its arms folded pensively, with its severed head resting on its side just beside a platter of fake rotting fruit. The rest were either lying face first against their plates, meant to display signs of poisoning, or they had been impaled with a number of different sharpened instruments. Again, nothing about the 'Dinner Massacre' had changed since his first ever visit and he believed it was highly likely that anything about it had been altered since the display was first installed in the seventies.

With the first floor covered, the host picked up a cheap replica of a handheld wooden torch and waved it from side to side as they approached the staircase, casting a light on the peeling wallpaper that ran along the winding stairs, triggering the 3-D effect of the portraits of the fictional family that once resided within the manor.

As the pair climbed the creaking staircase, Marcus felt his mother's eyes turn towards him, ignoring the monotonous monologue of the host as he listed off the various family members, along with the spirits that made their haunting presence known only on October 31st.

"What's the matter, Marcus?" his mother asked softly, sweeping her blonde voluminous hair from her beautiful face. "You seem like your mind is somewhere else entirely."

Marcus sighed, not even making an attempt to seem frightened as a malformed taxedermied bird launched from an old cuckoo clock located near the top of the stairs. "You're not too wrong. I don't know, it just doesn't feel the same as it used to. It's all too predictable, and without dad or the others here to poke fun at the goofy stuff it feels like we're only going through the motions."

His comments earned him a disarming smile from his mother, one that never failed to leave him dazzled. "Thank God, and there was me worried that you didn't want to spend what precious little Halloween time there is left with your mother. I know this place isn't as frightening as it was when you were younger. Hell, it hasn't changed much since your grandparents used to bring me here back in the late eighties, and it definitely doesn't help that our supposed host up there looks less like Dr. Stein and more like Dr. Loomis. Still want to keep going?"

Marcus laughed quietly, taking his mother's outstretched hand in his own, perking up immediately as they reached the landing of the second floor. They partook in a whispered back and forth as they visited the bedrooms, pointing out and poking fun at the old props that decorated the rooms, particularly whenever they encountered an animatronic that either didn't function properly or missed a number of its limbs. Coming to the final stop of their tour, they followed the host into the master bedroom, where they found a familiar pair of plastic skeletons resting upon the king size bed, dressed in a black tuxedo and a peach coloured dress.

"And here we've arrived at the bedroom belonging to Lord and Lady Perriwinkle," Dr. Stein proclaimed in a bored tone, making little effort to sound as though he wasn't reciting the words from a script, lazily holding his arm out towards the dusty bed, "or what's left of them. Some say that the grief of losing their family to the massacre drove them to their deaths. Others accuse them of being culpable in the massacre, choosing to bring the battle over their inheritance to a brutal end. Alas, we'll never know the true stor-"

The host's lifeless reciting of the final act of the story was interrupted by a pinging sound emanating from his pocket. Turning away from his two guests, he snaked a hand into the jeans that were not so well concealed by the trench coat, pulling out his phone. A grin finally rose on his face as he looked at the caller. He immediately answered and turned on his heel, chattering away as he approached the doorway, holding up his index finger as a blunt means of getting the pair to wait for his return. His abrupt departure was registered by a motion sensor located above the door, which triggered the mechanism that slammed the door shut behind him.

"Can you believe that?" Marcus scoffed, pointing his thumb back at the door. "I know the hosts in the past where it's never exactly Disneyland quality, but they at least put a lot more effort into making the experience feel a little more daunting."

"Don't be a spoilsport, he's probably just speaking with his girlfriend," Catherine laughed, strutting over to the side of the bed, taking the chance to get a closer look at the different props and contraptions, "even I can remember when I used to sneak off for the night to hook up with someone."

"Definitely didn't need to hear that," Marcus winced. As much as he wished he was, Marcus wasn't ignorant of the fact that his mother was an attractive woman, something his friends and schoolmates never failed to remind him of. Even in her early forties she still managed to turn heads wherever she went. Shaking his head, he opted to distract himself, attempting to pull the bedroom door open, showing a flicker of genuine concern when it didn't show signs of budging.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you haven't been sowing your wild oats up and down your campus?" his mother raised a blonde eye brow, fiddling with the handles of one of the bedside cabinets, disappointed to discover that they were all glued shut.

"Well, not exactly. I've sort of been waiting for, you know, the right sort of girl," Marcus admitted with an embarrassed blush, which only urged his desire to wedge the thick wooden door open, again to no avail.

"The right girl?" Catherine turned suddenly on her heel, crossing her arms as she stared at her son with an incredulous expression. "Marcus, you're at college, not a church camp. The whole point of the college experience is to let loose, to break the boundaries your parents placed upon you. You're not meant to tie yourself down to just one person at eighteen, the only things that should be on your mind at this time in life should be studying, eating, sleeping, and sex. And not necessarily in that order."

"I'm not just going to get into bed with the first girl I see," Marcus defended himself, standing on his toes as he tried to get the piston holding the door in place to give way, only to realise that the mechanism had seized up entirely. "Dammit, I think we might be stuck in here."

"Are we?" Catherine asked. "Try and see if you can get the host's attention."

Marcus banged his hand against the door. "Hey! Hey, we can't get the door open! Are you out there?" Marcus paused briefly, deciding to press his ear against the door when no reply came. Though it was incredibly muffled, he could easily make out the sound of feminine giggling from across the hall, which was followed by the unmistakable sound of bed springs squeaking.

"Anything?" Marcus's mother inquired, sounding almost at ease with the idea of their unexpected entrapment.

"No, I think he must have invited a girl around. Something tells me that he was hoping we would take the extended wait as a reason to take off while he gives his girlfriend the more personal experience. The balls on that guy."

"Leave him alone," Catherine giggled, sauntering back over to the bed, "he's doing precisely what you should be doing. It's Halloween, Marcus, it's the one day of the year where women squeeze themselves into the raciest costumes they can get their hands on, if the opportunity presents itself you go for it."

"The only problem is that while he's out there screwing his girlfriend, we're stuck in here," Marcus frowned, giving the door a final barge, coughing when the futile attempt only resulted in him being showered by the dust balancing on the flat top of the door frame.

"We'll make do for now," Catherine said. She reached over the bed and grabbed one of the skeletons by the shoulders, dragging it off the bed and onto the floor. Climbing onto the bed itself, she gave the plastic representation of Lady Perriwinkle a sharp shove, sending the plastic skeleton toppling over the edge. She settled herself against the headboard and crossed her legs at the ankle, flicking her blue eyes at the space next to her. "Wanna join me? I have an inkling that those two might be a little preoccupied for a good while, there's no point in wasting energy trying to open a door that can only be operated from the tour guide."