Westfield, pop. 9,214
A haunted-house tycoon for iPhone.
Coming soon — App StoreLay rooms on the grid, one dreadful square at a time. Every corridor is a choice.
Staff the crew, cue the scares, and keep the line moving until the last group is through.
Thirty-one nights. One ledger. The town is watching, and so is something else.
Volume I & II
Twenty-nine rooms, each drawn as a plate in a shop-class anatomy folio nobody will admit to printing. Common to foil. Your house is a binder you walk people through.
Something takes an ankle and lets go. They tighten up.
PLATE II · SIGHT · 16s · 1 crew
They lose the exit. Two minutes in a room the size of a van.
PLATE VI · SIGHT · 38s · 2 crew
He comes through the wall. Not the door. The wall.
PLATE XVII · SOUND · 36s · 2 crew
26
MORE IN THE HOUSE
The binder holds twenty-nine.
You have to walk to the rest.
Photographed October 1987
Twelve performers on the books. Each one raises the house — each one has terms. Read the fine print before you post them.
SIGNED · ROOM
Doubles the room’s dread, zeroes its startle.
She does not move. That is the act.
Nobody has seen Dolores arrive or leave. She is in position when the building is unlocked, which would be alarming if she weren’t so professional about it.
GILT · ROOM
+40% startle in a tier‑3 room.
Four nights running, then he needs one off.
Twenty-two years on the drop panel. The number was twenty-two last year too. He checks the ceiling of every room he enters. Every room.
SIGNED · ROOM · 2 CREW
Doubles dread. The reflection is a second person.
Two crew. They will not be split up.
Booked as a pair, paid as one. In their portrait, one of them casts a shadow. The booth offered a reprint. The reprint was the same.
One card a night
Between groups, the crew has a night of its own. Thirty-three shift cards — drawn one a night, kept in the log, and not all of them are good news.
DRAWN TONIGHT
Somebody brought pizza to B2. Nobody knows who paid.
PERFORMANCE +6% · CREW CONDITION +8
DRAWN TONIGHT
Forty groups in and nobody is thinking about it any more.
PERFORMANCE +3% · CREW CONDITION +2
DRAWN TONIGHT
The work light does not reach the end of the duct. It is nine feet.
PERFORMANCE −5% · CREW CONDITION −11 · DREAD +10
The other investor
There is no photograph of Uncle Rick. There is only the note. Ten thousand dollars opened the doors, and every morning it is a little more.
OCT 1 — ten thousand, even. The doors open.
EVERY NIGHT — five percent. His five percent.
OCT 13 — he names a number. Half of what you owe.
OCT 21 — the number is due. He comes by either way.
NOV 1 — whatever is left is yours
He is not asking. And when you pay him off — and you might — he will not say thank you.
Support
Questions, bug reports, or anything strange in the house? Write in — a caretaker reads everything.
support@hauntgridhouse.com