The Best Haunted House in Woodbridge

Owen hated working with teenagers. They were always late and playing on their cell phones. Absolutely no work ethic. But, they were cheap. Plus the yearly haunted house was a town tradition and no one wanted to work it besides the kids.

Unfortunately, his employees always found new ways to scare each other, not just the visitors. If Owen ran into one more fake skeleton, fake spiderwebs, or had one more figure in a black cloak jump out at him, he was going to start firing these kids, and there wouldn't be a haunted house this year. Not to mention one or more of them had been stealing. He wasn't sure who, but his space heater had gone missing and, strangely enough, one of the drawers from the filing cabinet in the office. It had been empty, so who knows what they were going to do with it. Probably another prank.

The haunted house was scheduled to open in just under an hour and the two teens he'd sent over to finish up the barn still hadn't returned. Owen swore and made his way to the barn. At least it was now covered in fake dust and fake blood, he was gratified to note, with a few power tools and body parts thrown about for atmosphere. But he still couldn't find the kids. He heard a shuffling and looked up. There they were. The two teens climbed down the ladder from the second story ledge. Fooling around, no doubt, both of them covered in hay.

“I thought the barn was almost finished,” he said. “We open in an hour.”

“It is finished, Mr. Lewis,” the girl, Amanda he thought her name was, said. “We were just double-checking the flying mechanism.”

The boy, Caleb, hit a button and a grim reaper came flying from the second story with a screech, moving along a thin metal cable. Owen opened his mouth to yell at him, but Caleb looked abashed and they really didn't have time.

“Great,” Owen said, “now get to the entrance. People are already starting to line up.”

“Yes, sir,” Caleb said. He and Amanda rushed out of the barn, whispering to each other.

It wasn't just Caleb and Amanda. All of his employees seemed skittish tonight. Not just first day excitement or nervousness, either. Owen was used to that. The first night open always included just as many screams from the employees as the visitors. An excuse to be as loud and exuberant as they wanted. This was different. This was hushed whispers and something passed between quiet hands.

Drugs, probably. Later in the evening, between shuffling groups, Owen saw a man in a hockey mask hand something to Amanda, her face now painted like a cracked porcelain doll and her petticoat dusted with blood and viscera. She moved back to the barn, even though she was supposed to be working the corn field. Owen followed her. He would tolerate quite a bit from his teenage employees, but not drugs. And especially not when they were supposed to be working. He saw Amanda climb the ladder to the second story, raining hay down upon the guests. He followed after her and saw her crouched down by the far corner of the barn.

“Hey,” he shouted to be heard over the laughter and screams downstairs. “What are you doing?”

Amanda jumped up, using her body to conceal whatever she'd been doing.

“Nothing”, she said, then winced, likely hearing how obvious the lie was.

Owen stepped closer and gestured for her to move aside. She hesitated, but moved. Behind her sat the drawer from the filing cabinet with a pillow stuffed inside, the space heater blowing over it. He didn't know where they'd gotten the pillow, he hadn't noticed any missing. Atop the pillow sat four kittens, their eyes not even open yet. Amanda had dropped a bottle.

“They need to be fed every two hours”, she explained. “We found them here yesterday and couldn't find the mother. Everyone's been taking turns feeding them.”

Owen sighed. “Come on. Let's take them to the office. It's warmer in there and I have a pet bed they can use.”

Owen hated working with teens, but he supposed that sometimes they could be alright.