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If you were able to spend a shift doing any job in the world, what would it be? Maybe you’d attempt to help people? Perhaps money would be the primary motivation? Or would you aim to satisfy your inner teenager, working on the near-guarantee of having a ridiculously good time?
Yeah. Me, too.
Scoring a one-night shift at The Darkness haunted house in Soulard wasn’t too much of a stretch, as it turned out. A simple request via the ol’ telephone was met with an enthusiastic “you bet,” followed by some additional e-mail and, voila, the gig was booked. Because the month of October slips by far too quickly, I wanted to get into The Darkness sooner than later, which meant a Wednesday night shift, under the guidance of veteran haunted house performer Lauren Lobosky.
If you believe that we’re all put on this rock for a reason, you could assume correctly that Lobosky’s got more than one calling. See, she’s an engineer by day, working a solid, regular job, with all the usual pressures and positives of a day gig. But during October, she’s really in her element, as one of the clear stars of the show at The Darkness, which she works in between touring stops at other major horror attractions around the country. (She gives a rundown of her routine and busy fall season in the accompanying video.) But The Darkness is her home base, no doubt.
On weekends, she often works the exterior of the venue, playing to a large and rowdy audience that builds during the weekend hours of 6 p.m. to 1 a.m., with the last patrons leaving the walk-through attraction at nearly 2 a.m. During our shift, which took place on a relatively light mid-week evening, the crowd began their 30-to-40 walkthroughs at 7:30 p.m., with the last visitors allowed in at 10 p.m. On those kinds of nights, a bit of flex time can mean all the difference, and Lobosky set it up so that she could roll into work the next day at a more forgiving hour.
Meeting me in front of the building, our first stop was a tour of the venue, with lights on and only some of the audio effects in play. It’s definitely fun to see a horror house in that kind of setting, with the animatronics quiet and the light allowing you a chance to focus in on all the small details around you, the “Munsters”-like cobwebs, skeletons, hanging corpses, and skulls of all sorts. Having walked a chunk of the interior, it was time to check into the actors’ room and that’s a singular experience for sure, full of smack-talking young folks who get into character by working each other over, before moving onto the audience. And this is not a small crew, by any measure.
Even on a slower night, 52 performers are hired to add to the ambiance, some dressed as monks, others as clowns, many more as garden-variety slashers, monsters, and freaks. Lobosky was there to aid me in a two-person scene, and our corner of The Darkness had a few interesting, multi-sensory elements. For starters, patrons would walk down a dimly lit corridor. Reaching our section, Lobosky would hit a single button, unleashing a wall of real barrels, which slammed down on a metal grate. At that point, her role had her screaming behind an unlocked metal fence—the unlocked part is key, because she was able to either engage customers from inside the room, or she could break free, running and shrieking ahead of the attendees into a small cubby-hole, which itself lead to an elevator.
Although Darkness fans might only spend a couple minutes in that very space, they’re being hassled by two performers, they have the barrels (and some serious noise from them) to contend with; all the while, they’re setting off more audio and motion effects by stepping on triggers. Everything in the house, as Lobosky explained, is run by pnuematic power, rather than hydraulics, which is to say air power, instead of oil or other liquids. Thus, the constant, spitting, “whoosh”-like sounds that accompany your entire visit.
Live snakes, reptiles and spiders are part of the lobby wait, and animatronic versions of the same are sprinkled throughout the maze-like building. But without the human performers, there’s something definitely lacking. And, as noted, The Darkness has a dozens-deep cast, who vary between performers who’ve spent a previous year, or two, on the site, and those running through their first season. And that’s why someone like Lobosky has value—she can pretty much handle any portion of any zone of the place, putting on a performance that’s going to register with the fans.
Our angle was that Lobosky was sealed in behind that fence, with a wired dummy vibrating atop the table next to her, at least when it was triggered by the audience. Also, a full-size “woman” would pop out of an oil barrel and another male dummy stood nearby, with a shovel full of coal; our job was to directly engage the fans, as the lights flashed, the dummies leered, and the piped-in voices shrieked. Lobosky started our act, unleashing the barrels, then screaming wildly. At this point, I would wander through the thick, smoke machine-generated fog, yelling at both her and the walkers. Within the span of about the first three trips through, I had my little routine down. And having yelled it all night long (to the point of partially losing my voice the next day), I can pretty well say that it went like this:
“What? Not this again. Didn’t I already tell you people? She’s crazy. She’s a liar. She’s a crazy liar! She’ll tell you things. You know what she’ll tell you? That it’s safe to get on that elevator ahead. But you know what? It’s! Not! Safe!”
Mind you, the last three words come off with more authority when you bang a metal oil drum with a chain for emphasis, which I did with increasing enthusiasm.
At times, the night passed just a bit slowly, gaps in customers giving long lulls. Lobosky talked about her stints at the house, her ability to slide down the street on kneepads to cheering audiences, her ability with horror make-up, which is pretty solid, if my “blood”-spattered mug was to be believed. At other times, the fans rolled through quicker and the energy was amped. When that happens, you start slipping into character pretty deep, occasionally giving off a real nice scare, other times getting into a good-natured yelling match with the wise-guy teens who want to prove that they’re not afraid of you, not afraid at all.
Later in life, if forced to list 20, or 25 amazing sights I’ve witnessed, The Darkness may have provided one for the list. A family (mom, dad, and son) rolled through our section. They were legitimately terrified when they hit Lauren’s fence. As I approached, they went into full freak-out mode, clutching each other and running down the short hallway into the elevator, which shook violently as they triggered the full-scene-shake. For a brief moment, I added pure misery to these people’s lives, but I think they enjoyed it. I know I did. Probably enjoyed it a bit too much.
Hey, Darkness: Um, can I have a job?
