It isn’t often that a haunted house has the longevity of The Scream Machine; and that staying power has been hard earned. First opened in 2001, the fixture of Taylor has called at least five different locations home over the years, and even weathered a two year hiatus a decade ago. Now located on Northline between Telegraph and Beech Daly, The Scream Machine is howling once again.
A recent visit revealed the attraction to be stuffed with a horde of actors who were nothing if not a lively bunch. The air rattled with the sound of drop panels, noise makers, and the guttural groans of the lurking undead. Sets were highly detailed and splashed with a bounty of eye-catching trinkets. The classic cemetery scene has been restored to its former glory and spilled, as it once did, into a most sinister church service.
In one room, an expertly still mannequin lurched to life and clawed a bed post with a set of unnaturally long nails. Soon thereafter, I was comically accosted by a torso in the act of a bowel movement, and then entered the kitchen of a snarling, rat-faced, redneck who enthusiastically boiled the most tender flesh.
Later, I found myself admitted to an asylum after being hoodwinked by the sly Dr. Strach. Here, I encountered folks with eyes that glowed white, one malnourished girl complained of worms in her brain while another bushy-haired lass offered to supply me with enough drugs to stone an elephant. And I would be remiss if I failed to mention Momma, who ordered me in a freezer and then implored me to snack on some questionable dinner specials.
The Scream Machine created an immersive environment with light, fog, and elaborate scenes that had been keenly distressed. The whole experience was a feast for the senses, and managed to successfully blend classic techniques with novel scares. And boy, was the Hellivator geared up and firing on all cylinders when Horrorlust came calling!
