Trapped in Terror: Horror-Themed Escape Room
How Did It Happen?
It all started with an unexpected return. My best friend, having flown back from the UK for a short holiday, decided it was time for a reunion. March 28th, a public holiday in Malaysia, was marked on our calendars as the day. We all eagerly agreed, anticipating yet another casual catch-up at our usual cafe haunt. But this time, he had a twist in mind. He wanted to elevate our gathering from the mundane to the memorable and signed us up for an escape room experience.
My Experience with Escape Rooms
My relationship with escape rooms has always been one of admiration and thrill. The concept of solving puzzles and quizzes under the pressure of a ticking clock has an undeniable allure. For those of you who share this fascination, I'd recommend diving into this multiplayer game - "Escape Simulator" on Steam. It's an exemplary adventure that truly captures the essence of an escape room challenge – it’s one of the best games I've had the pleasure of playing.
However, despite my fascination with escape rooms, I was blissfully unaware of how the infusion of horror would transform my anticipation into dread. The very idea of combining the intellectual challenge I so loved with elements designed to terrify was something I hadn’t prepared for. Little did I know, this combination would manifest as one of my most daunting experiences yet.
At the Maze Room
Upon arrival at the Maze Room, our group, already tinged with a mix of excitement and apprehension, made a last-ditch effort to negotiate our fears away. We hoped to persuade the game master to slightly tone down the horror elements. Unfortunately, our pleas met a dead end. "Sorry, it has been preset, and we cannot do anything about it," was the response that echoed back to us.
Why the negotiation, you might wonder? The game had an unexpected twist: the inclusion of an NPC (Non-Player Character) who, we were explicitly warned, "will touch you, but don't be afraid." Such a statement is easier said than felt. The mere thought sparked a whirlwind of questions in my mind. How can one not be cloaked in fear knowing that the barrier between the game and physical interaction was about to be blurred?
Context: The Ballerina Next Door This maze room wasn't just a game; it came with a backstory that could rival the plot of any horror flick, and not in a good way. Picture this: we're the neighbors of a certain individual named Alice. Driven mad by the relentless noises coming from her place, we did what any sensible person (read: no one ever in a horror movie) would do—we decided to investigate. Yes, in a move that screamed "typical Western horror movie dumbassery," we chose to dive headfirst into the mystery.
Alice, our enigmatic and somewhat noisy neighbor, was once a renowned ballerina. However, her story took a dark turn when she was found dead, an apparent suicide. The police quickly wrapped up the case, slapping a label on it without a second glance. But us? We decided we were smarter. We fancied ourselves as the Sherlock Holmes of horror tropes, ready to crack a case the police had dismissed. Because, of course, poking around a dead ballerina's mystery is exactly what any group of bored neighbors would do.
Entering the Room: Into the Darkness
Stepping into the escape room plunged us into darkness so absolute, it swallowed every trace of light, rendering us blind. Our only aid in this void was a candle that offered barely anything in a blackout and a walkie-talkie for begging hints from the game master. The mission was clear: solve the mystery of Alice. Yet, every shadow whispered caution, every creak a warning. We tread lightly, solving puzzles with a haste born of fear, half-expecting the jump scare of Alice to materialize with each new clue unveiled.
The game's tension spiked when we were instructed to stealthily conceal ourselves in the next room, advised that Alice had a vendetta against both light and sound. The directives were simple: hide and keep silent. A closet and the space under a bed became our sanctuaries. Given our trio, a game of rock-paper-scissors for hiding spots would've made more sense, but I quickly claimed executive decision-making power. I delegated the under-bed exploration to the friend who had gotten us into this mess, who accepted his fate with a mix of resignation and dread.
However, true to the form of a "classic horror movie genius," he opted for investigation over obedience, peeling back the bedcover only to unleash hell. Alice, in all her terrifying glory, was not just a figment of our imaginations but a screaming, monstrous presence atop the bed. Her cries and otherworldly sounds sent him scrambling, a chaos that sent shivers down our spines as we cowered in the closet, praying for invisibility. And just as suddenly as she appeared, she vanished into the depths of the maze, leaving echoes of terror and the pounding of our hearts in her wake.
The Betrayal: A Closet Too Far
The game master's warning was clear: "Keep it down, Alice could return any minute." So, there we were, trying to be ninjas in a horror movie. Me and J, my friend from the UK, were solving puzzles left and right, actually making progress. Meanwhile, A turned into a closet hermit, claiming the entire space for himself. I even told him, "Make some room, I might need to dive in there too!"
Luckily, we cracked a code that unlocked another closet. Perfect! Now J and I had our own hiding spot, and A could have his closet kingdom. But then came the real test. We hit a button, and suddenly, the game was on fast-forward. The phone rang, and the walkie-talkie blared, "HIDE! ALICE IS COMING!" We all scrambled. A slammed his closet door shut, basically leaving us for dead. J and I barely made it into our new closet.
Footsteps, crying, the whole horror soundtrack started playing. Through a crack, I saw Alice crawling on all fours, like something out of a nightmare, hunting. She zoomed under the bed, then... our closet door creaked open. J and I were holding our breaths, me with my eyes wide open, ready to throw a punch if it came to that. But, she left, and then went for A's closet. Watching Alice terrorize A, after he had left us to fend for ourselves, J and I couldn't help but giggle, thinking, "Karma, man."
Alice eventually left us alone, and we solved the mystery. The real lesson was learned in the closets: sometimes, karma finds you in the darkest of places.
PS: We are still friends with A till today :)