It may be hard to believe, but I wasn’t always a haunt fiend like I am now. Sure, New Jersey had its share of haunts, but none on the level of what you can find out here in California. I grew up with home haunts and Six Flags Great Adventure’s Fright Fest. Moving out to Southern California was almost a culture shock, because it was all so varied, different, and overwhelming.

My very first Halloween season here, I was like a moth to the flame; I couldn’t get enough. But one in particular stood out to me. One would change the way I viewed these experiences, forever altering my view on not just the season, but of myself.

Of course, I am talking about Blackout.

I was recently going through some old blogs I had written, and came across one that I had done a few days after emerging from Blackout: Elements, my very first time ever experiencing something like that. Reading it over, I could tell I was a bit…traumatized, but at the same time, it invoked feelings of accomplishment. I had lived through something that I didn’t really think I could, and was proud of myself for doing so.

Since I just made arrangements to go through Blackout: Inferno on Halloween night (with three Blackout virgins, no less), I thought it might be a good time to re-share the original blog, unaltered, for those of you who might be interested in a first timer’s experience with it. Having been through a few of their shows since then, it’s interesting to see how much has changed in me in just a few short years. How different of a person I am. How much I can take. And what affects me.

Also, I have to say make sure you know that the “friend” I refer to below is none other than Norm Gidney, owner of HorrorBuzz. Clearly, doing Blackout together for the first time set us on a crazy course of friendship that hasn’t been changed since.

And now…it’s time to blackout.

Enjoy…

 *  *  *

I was thrust out onto South Figueroa, in the middle of Los Angeles, with a gag covering my mouth and my pants still soaking wet. I was extremely disheveled-looking, with a wild look in my eyes, and everyone passing me by on the street probably thought I was crazy. A girl, whom I had met earlier, was sitting on a bench near the street, chatting away on her phone. She took one look at me and quietly mouthed to whomever she was talking to on the other end “…I’m going to have to call you back.”

“Well?” she said, wasting no time running up to me, an excited look in her eye.

I tore the gag from mouth, pulling it over my head and nearly knocking off my already tilted glasses in the process. I took a deep breath, the first since beginning my journey less than an hour earlier, and tried to compose my thoughts.

“It was…something,” was the only thing I could manage to get out.

And something it surely was.

On Friday, October 11th, I took on what is considered to be the Mount Everest of “haunted attractions”: The one and only Blackout.

Blackout isn’t new. It’s been around for a few years now, but it was only brought to my attention when a friend of mine told me about it when I moved to California. He is essentially a haunt connoisseur, waiting patiently all year long for the Halloween season to arrive so he can experience each and every haunted attraction in the area. From Knott’s to Universal Horror Nights even to smaller, home grown haunts, he loves them.

But Blackout was one he had never experienced before but always wanted to. He had never found anyone (stupid enough) to go with him, and when he first asked, I said yes without hesitating.  I’m not stranger to haunts myself, and looked forward to experiencing a new one. He quickly bought us tickets, and so I was locked in to going.

But then he started to tell me more about it. And I looked up reviews from previous years. And then the panic set in.

Just what the hell did I get myself into?

If you haven’t heard of Blackout before, now might be a good time to do a little research on it. Go ahead and Google Blackout reviews, and you’ll see some pretty extreme cases from the past few years. If you’re easily offended or dislike horror films, it may be best to stay far away from said reviews.

Based in NYC and LA (with a Chicago location being added later this year), people seem to either love it or hate it. There doesn’t seem to be any middle ground. It is considered the most extreme of “haunted houses” (though that’s really not the best way to describe it), and anyone who makes it all the way through wears that fact like a badge of honor. And rightfully so.

Me, right after getting out of Blackout: Elements

Right off the bat, their website eludes to what you’re going to experience. They have a few simple rules that you NEED to follow in order to do it.

You must be 18. You must go through alone. You must do exactly what you are told to do. Do not speak. Do not touch the actors. Do not touch the walls. You must sign the wavier.

You’re told what you’ll encounter: complete darkness, strobe lights, fog, crawling, loud noises, physical contact, sexual and violent situations.

On top of that, there is a safe word that you can yell if it all becomes too intense for you. At that point, you’ll be escorted out, no refund, without any clue about what was waiting for you around the next bend.

All these warnings are in place for you, because if you are of the faint of heart, Blackout is not for you.

This year, it was apparently done a little differently. Entitled Blackout: Elements, it brought the four basic elements into the scenarios that made you squirm.

Like an idiot, reading reviews and walk throughs of years past made me even more anxious as to what to expect. The weeks and days leading up to it, I started to bug out. The day of, counting down the hours and then minutes until my time had come, my stomach was churning. To say I was nervous is a serious understatement.

Blackout was held in the heart of LA this year, in the same building as The Purge: Fear The Night, another haunt we would be attending later that evening. While The Purge took up 5 stories and most of the building, the entrance into Blackout was merely a side door, covered in black, with the logo over it.

Walking through the door, you’re lead down a long hallway, where a guy sitting at a computer checks you in. At that point, you can hand over your possessions so they don’t get ruined, and you wait.

We waited outside for a few minutes, which is where we met the girl I would meet again later. While our respective appointments were at 8 and 8:30, hers was not until 9:30. She had shown up early, alone, to see others reactions before she was to go in.

I did not envy her.

Around 7:45, we went back down the hall to wait. I volunteered to go in first (because waiting longer would just kill me), and my friend had to stand 20 feet behind me. Before I knew it, I was being told to run up a set of stairs next to me. No “Are you ready?” No “Here we go!” Just an immediate “Run up these stairs. Now. NOW! GO!”

My friend later said he didn’t even realize I was gone until too late.

I was thrust into the frightening scenario almost immediately. There was no build up. There was no warning. When it starts, it starts.

For the next 40 minutes or so, I was put into situations and scenarios I can’t even fully wrap my head around. I have a difficult time even putting how I felt and what I experienced into words, even now, that I had days to experience it.

And even if I could, I don’t want to reveal what happened to me, in case someone out there wants to experience it for themselves. But, it should be said that, when comparing notes later on, my friend and I had very different experiences after a certain point. So, what I went through may not even be what you go through.

When it was over, much like it began, it was over. I was out on the street again, my mind and my body a mess.

The moment where Norm and I basically cemented our friendship forever

I said earlier that people who come out the other end of it wear that fact as a badge of honor. The next day, at another haunt event, various people were discussing what other haunts they experienced this season. When it came to be my turn and I said I did Blackout the night before, the entire room hushed.

“You went through it?” someone asked tentatively.

“I did,” was all I could muster up.

Then they erupted into a joyful chorus of giddy school kids, each one of them wanting to know what it was like, what they did, and how cool it was that I did it.

Much like then, I would be asked in the coming days, over and over again, if I liked it.

I don’t know if “like” is a word you could use for something like this. I don’t even know if that is a valid option. “Survived” is a better word for it. Like I mentioned earlier, there really isn’t anyone on the fence about Blackout. They either loved it or hated it.

Blackout: Elements was a completely emotional, psychological, psychical, visceral, in your face experience.

I survived it this year. I don’t know how I feel about it yet. I can’t wrap my head around it, still. I have woken up every single morning for the past five days thinking about it. It has crawled up into my head and taken residence over my every thought.

I think the question they should be asking is if I would do it again.

Despite what I went through, despite what they made me do, despite all that I have experienced, felt, and seen, without hesitating, I would reply honestly.

“Yes.”

I am a part of Blackout and Blackout is a part of me.