The lobby was just as splendid as I imagined for a place dedicated to terrifying secrecy and spine-chilling entertainment. The walls were adorned with eerie artwork, shadowy figures beckoning through the haunting light of flickering lamps. I marveled at the decor—a perfect blend of mock horror and twisted whimsy. I found a plush chair near the reception desk, tapping my fingers nervously against my leg as I waited for someone to greet me.
Eventually, a tall figure dressed in a sleek black suit approached. "Scarlett?" he asked, flashing a curt smile that was equal parts friendly and frightening. I nodded, and he gestured for me to follow him down a narrow hallway lit by ominous candle replicas.
The interview with my boss was surprisingly straightforward, albeit peppered with questions that made me raise an eyebrow. "What scares you the most?" was the first. I offered a hesitant smile. "Bees," I finally admitted, earning a curt chuckle.
Then came the more personal curiosities. "What about your sexual experiences? Any phobias tied to that?" I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. Did it matter for a job in a haunted house? Wasn't the point to manufacture fear, not set potential employees on the therapist's couch?
I wrestled with my answers, trying to navigate the between being honest and the weirdness of it all. Was it weird that I found certain gory horror motifs thrilling? Or was it just plain vanilla?
After what felt like an eternity, we moved on to the final segment. "What do you love about Halloween?" My lips curved into a smile. "The freedom to explore who we are through costumes, the thrill in the air, the ghost stories," I answered, feeling more relaxed, my passion seeping into my words. I didn't take the liberty on sharing my birthday in there because it didn't really matter. They were going to figure it out one day.
It was like peeling back layers on an onion, opening up to a stranger whose primary goal was to see what made me tick—and terrified.
Hours later, around the time when shadows begin to lengthen and twilight creeps in, I was finally handed the confirmation I had been waiting for. Two hours had flown by like a thrilling horror scene—quick, intense, and full of surprises—but I was in. I had the job!
With my heart still racing from the strange interview, I exited the office, clutching my papers and a bizarre mix of excitement and apprehension that only a true haunted house experience could provide. The office corridors now felt like a maze of shadows, and as I navigated back to the lobby, I couldn't shake the feeling that the place wouldn't let me go without at least one more fright.
As Jason had reminded me, this wasn't just a haunted house; hell, it was "The Haunted Hookup." I could just picture the frightful escapades and horrifying tales that awaited. I was both the terrified and the terrorizer now, and as I stepped out into the bustling street, I knew I was about to dive headfirst into Halloween madness—one terrifying encounter at a time.