My Adventures at Zak Bagan's Haunted Museum

Chapter 8: The Basement

We went along a hall with shelves of oddities until I could see a wooden railing to the left. As I got to more into the area, it widened, and I could see that the stairway lead down. There was a wooden gate across the stairway with the letters, "Basement: Enter at Your Own Risk". 

The tour guide stopped at the front of the gate and began her talk about what was down there. "This is the entrance to the basement. It is said that in the 1970s, satanic cults had ceremonies down there when the building was abandoned. Strange things have been known to happen that Zak hasn't allowed people to go down there, until now. If you are on the RIP Tour, this is your time to go down and explore the basement. There is a spirit box down there as well. Talk with the spirits, if you dare."

You know I'd bought an RIP Tour Ticket so I could go into the more exclusive areas of the museum. I began to go down the stairs and was immediately hit with an oppressive funk in the air. It was a basement after all. It had to be dank and scary. 

But as I continued down and turned into the hallway, I was met by red brick arches that lined the hall. At the end of the hall was a mirror. The Bela Lugosi Mirror. It had been moved down here for display. Some people took a glance into it, and I decided to try again. I'd looked in it before. I had a mixed relationship with this mirror that Bela Lugosi is rumored to have scried in. It was also a witness to a murder.

I walk up and take a look. Nausea sweeps through me and my vision blurs. I step away and shake my head. Yeah. I don't like that mirror. 

I hear the distinctive white noise of a SB7 Spirit Box in the room to my left. It's the main room to the basement. I walk in and see in its center a painted pentagram. Nice touch, Zak. He really likes to creep you out and bring on the dramatics. Positioned on the wall across from me is the spirit box sweeping the channels, and a few other people walking around the pentagram. I'm happy to say they were wise not to cross into it.

That's when voices start to come through the box. And it's not what you'd think.

"WEEEHHHHHH!" Shouts a playful, childlike voice. 

What the...???? I think carefully. What could that be? It sounds like a child.

The voice comes through again. "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!" What ever it was, it was either happy to see us and/or having a great time with our presence. I decided to not give it more of an audience and left the basement. I'd had enough. 

I walked back down the hall and up the stairs awaiting for the rest of the people that had dared the basement to return.