If you grew up in Des Moines, Iowa you already know there was only one place to be when October rolled around and that was Linn's Haunted House. Located at 3805 6th Avenue in the Highland Park neighborhood, this legendary spot wasn't your typical high production corporate haunt. It was built right into the basement of Linn’s Super Market. Back in 1996, when my friends and I were in high school, it was the absolute peak of autumn cool. The regulations of the mid-90s were gloriously loose, and the scares were unadulterated.
But there is one specific night in 1996 that is burned into my memory forever. It wasn't the actors, the clowns, or the chainsaws that terrified us. It was the infamous tunnel.
Part of what made Linn's so unique and claustrophobic, was that you couldn't just walk through it. The founder, Merlyn Linn, designed it so that you literally had to drop to your hands and knees and crawl through pitch black tunnels to move forward into the basement. Usually, it was a blast.
Except for this one specific Friday night.
We were halfway through the maze, packed like sardines in a tight, low ceiling section. We were waiting on the group directly in front of us to move. Suddenly, we heard a distinct, wet, gagging sound from the darkness ahead. Someone in their group had completely lost their stomach, puking all over the floor of the crawl way.
Little did we know what was waiting for us as we started shuffling forward.
First came the smell. It hit us like a wall. That unmistakable, sour stench of hot, fresh vomit mixing with the musty dampness of a grocery store basement.
"Oh god, what is that?" someone whispered.
Then, we felt it.
Because it was pitch black, we couldn't see a thing. My hands went down first. Instead of the hard floor, I felt something warm, wet, and incredibly gross squishing right through my fingers.
Panic instantly set in. We screamed and tried to push backward, but it was impossible. There was a massive, never ending line of eager people packed tightly behind us, shoving forward and screaming at us to keep moving. We were completely trapped.
With no other choice, we had to slowly, agonizingly crawl right through the fresh puke. Hands, knees, jeans, everything was coated. It was an absolute horror show of the worst kind.
We survived the rest of the basement that night, but the ride home with the windows rolled down in the crisp October air is something my friends and I still talk about to this day. Linn's Haunted House truly gave us the scariest night of our lives... Just not the way they intended!
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