Graveyard, The Manor, Ghost Pirate Adventure, Zombie Fallout, Carnevil, Butcher House, and TW Bass Insane Asylum all for one low price! Right off of hwy 287, behind Texas Best Smokehouse. If you're looking for a fun and affordable night out for the family, or looking for an especially frightening date night this Halloween season, you won't be disappointed. The Legend:
You hear that? In October,
the wind really howls around here. The ominous feeling burrowing into your gut isn’t from the wind. It’s not from the town, either. The town’s a great place, as good as any other. No, that deep, unshakeable chill crawling up your neck is from that old mansion right over there. You shouldn’t go there. Most folks that do are never heard from again. Its creaky doors and old, boarded-up windows hold secrets no man, woman or child should ever know. You see that light flickering out from behind the boards? October is the only time any semblance of life is seen in that place. Thing is, no one has lived there in decades. No one you or I would call alive, anyhow. That place – and the land it’s built on – has had a cursed history since folks started settling here, and probably longer. What’s that? You want to hear the stories about that dark, foreboding old house? I think it’s best no one knows, but if it keeps another soul from being swallowed up by whatever dread things lurk in there so be it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. In the late 1800s, wealthy German eccentric Heinrich von Hagle moved his prestigious family from the Black Forest region in southwest Germany. Though descended from famed aristocracy, the von Hagles had long fallen out of public favor in their homeland, due to accusations on witchcraft, murder, and even cannibalism. Nothing was proven, yet the damage was done to the family name. With its then-rural setting and abundance of privacy (were they seeking to be free from persecution, or looking for haven to ply their alleged dark practices?) Heinrich and family chose Midlothian, Texas as their new home. They settled on a plot of land covered in shadowy forest, and intersected by an unnaturally deep creek. It held no mountains like their previous home, but the trees, and something unknowable, made it feel like home. The local townspeople even gave their estate a name: Creekside Manor. They felt accepted, and set out to restore the family’s reputation. However, it wasn’t long before the von Hagle’s new beginning was cut short. You see, the locals knew there was something wrong with that creek, something sinister in those woods. That’s why the land was vacant, and cheap. They started dying off, one after another, in mysterious ways. One was found face down in the creek, not a single mark on the body. Another was found on the roof, skinned to the bone and carefully laid out in the sun. Heinrich’s brother, Hans, ran screaming into the forest one night, never to be seen again. On and on it went, until only Heinrich was left. Weeks later, he was found by the local law, sitting in his armchair, with his head turned completely around, facing the backrest. When his body was moved, the sheriff was shocked to his eyes wide, yet vacant, and his mouth frozen in a hideous, near-impossible grin. Heinrich was buried with the rest of the von Hagles in the family plot in the front lawn. Townsfolk boarded up the windows, and put up a fence around the property. A large “No Trespassing” sign was hung on the fence as a warning. Not to the locals. They knew better. Or they used to before all this macabre history faded with the passage of decades, until only the very old remember. I’m getting on in years, and it’s good I pass this along, before it’s too late. Anyway…where was I? Oh yes, I remember. The place stood abandoned, and for good reason. Most feel there’s almost an unnatural life to that house, that it has a dark power all its own. Well, after that awful hurricane hit New Orleans years back, the violent storms uprooted something foul. Along with the hundreds of coffins bearing dear departed loved ones, thirteen caskets, containing old, horrific things best left buried, were washed up in the creek behind the Manor, brought north by unnatural currents. Whatever they are – some call them vampires, some ghouls, still others something else entirely – were awakened from a centuries-long slumber. I think it was the wicked, baleful energy that inhabits the land, and that house. Those things dwell there now, sleeping in silence all year until October comes, when they open the doors to those foolhardy enough to step inside. Go on in if you think you’re brave enough. I know I’m not. I saw what slept in those coffins…
